Listening
to the Infancy Narrative from Luke’s
Gospel in snippets may be necessary for liturgical worship but much is missed
when we don’t see the whole canvas on which Luke paints his grand, programmatic
overture. But when we do see the whole,
we begin to appreciate Luke’s rhetorical and theological strategies. And, in this case, what stands out among them
all are the series of contrasts he makes between the birth of John and the
birth of Jesus. His point is clear:
while comparisons with John are understandable, they ultimately and woefully
fail because in Jesus God is doing something utterly unique…something no one
has ever seen before…not even dared to imagine.
Between
the two birth stories many elements are shared: the angelic visitor, the
proclamation, the overcoming of a human deficiency (age and barrenness in the
first instance, youth and virginity in the second), and a sign to legitimate
the prophecy. Because the form of the
angel’s statement in each case is so
similar, the difference in content concerning the identity and role of the
respective children attracts the reader’s eye.
John will be great before the the Lord, but Jesus will be Son of the
Most High. John will prepare a people,
but Jesus will rule the people. John’s
role is temporary, Jesus’ kingdom will never end. John is to be a prophet, but Jesus more than
a prophet: he is Son of God. John will
be “filled with the Holy Spirit,” but the overshadowing of the Spirit and Power
will make Jesus “the Holy One.” The full
meaning of these epithets become clear only in the course of Luke’s narrative,
but from the start the reader is prepared to see in Jesus something far more
than a Davidic king.
Luke
expands his theological vision by also drawing contrasts between Zechariah and
Mary. In contrast to Zechariah, we
notice, Mary holds no official position among the people, she is not described
as “righteous” in terms of observing
Torah, and her experience does not take place in a cultic setting. She is among
the most powerless people in her society: she is young in a world that values
age; female in a world ruled by men; poor in a stratified economy. Furthermore, she has neither husband nor
child to validate her existence. That
she should have found “favor with God” and be “highly favored” shows Luke’s
understanding of God’s activity as surprising and often paradoxical, almost
always reversing human expectations.
Mary’s mode of response is more positive than Zechariah’s. Instead of his “how shall I know,” which is a
demand for proof, Mary simply asks how the promise might come true in the light
of its obvious roadblock, her virginity.
When the angel makes clear that not human actions but divine power will
effect this birth, she responds in obedient faith as powerful as the response
spoken later by her son in the garden before his death, “let it be with me
according to your word.”
Finally,
there is the contrast in signs.
Zechariah is struck mute, but Mary will magnify the Lord in song.
Yet,
even as this overture comes to an end and the themes have been clearly
introduced, no human ear will be prepared to hear or apprehend the chords
struck and melodies developed by the Gospel’s
end, and we, too, will sit awestruck like Mary before Gabriel wondering how
can this be?
The
Annunciation of Our Lord Jesus Christ by the angel Gabriel to Mary, the maiden
of Nazareth is, then, about the total subversion of all norms and customs and
paradigms. Nothing that has come before
can contain this new thing that God is about to do. Except two things…a faith that is open to discover new wonders and an
imagination wild enough to contain it.
And its Mary, not Zechariah, who serves as our guide to this expansive
faith and wild imagination.
Mary,
then, is the archetype of how God’s
new thing, God’s kingdom, comes into our world and establishes itself. Several points can be made to help us follow
her example and live into this archetype.
First,
we should be open to surprises from God.
Pope Francis used to always say that God is full of surprises. So, we need to develop a contemplative gaze
so that we don’t let them pass us by. Mary had that contemplative gaze and open
heart that didn’t let this divine theophany pass her by.
Second,
we should listen with humble reverence to what God is trying to tell us. “Listen,
my son, to your master’s instructions, and attend to them with the ear of your
heart.” To listen humbly with a burning
desire to know, to understand, and to put what we hear into practice is the
proper posture of the Christian disciple and monk.
Third,
we should never allow our circumstances to limit the power of God. Though Mary knew she was a virgin, she had a
faith that God was bigger than her circumstances and not constrained by her
limitations. “For nothing will be impossible with God.”
Fourth,
it is not a lack of faith to seek clarity like Mary. It is a lack of faith to doubt the power of
God like Zechariah. Reason should be a
handmaid to faith, not its substitute.
And
fifth, we should consent whole-heartedly to the mystery of God’s message and come to know the implications of it through
pondering it in our hearts.
Through
the movement of this five-fold process a uniquely Marian spirituality is
developed. Every Christian is called to
be a God-bearer and to birth the divine life into our world. We do this just like Mary did through this
process of openness, deep, reverential listening, faith in God’s power, the acknowledgment of our own limitation, and the
contemplation, or, in this case, gestation, of God’s word.
Yet,
this Marian spirituality remains part of the overture to Luke’s programmatic prophecy.
The story to be told is not ultimately about her. The events of her life, at this point in the
story, foreshadow a similar, yet altogether greater, event about to
unfold.
The
two other lessons for today’s feast point
also to this utterly new thing that God is doing, not just in Mary but more
specifically in Christ. Hebrews quotes
Psalm 40, “Sacrifices and offerings you have not desired, but a body you have
prepared for me…. Then I said, ‘See, God, I have come to do your will.…’” The old order of worship is abolished in the
establishment of the new in the offering of the body of Jesus Christ as a
sacrifice for sin once for all. Isaiah
captures the utter newness of what God wants to do when God insists on giving
King Ahaz a sign: “Look, the young woman is with child and shall bear a son,
and shall name him Immanuel.”
The
feast we celebrate today is the feast of new beginnings. But, let’s
be clear, it’s new beginnings of a very special kind. This is not about renewal; nor about reform. This is about the birthing the unimaginable…about
putting human ingenuity and control aside and letting God be God. This isn’t just another feast that marks the
changing of the seasons of time. The
Feast of the Annunciation is more like a turning point in history…the turning
point of time itself. For here, in the
womb of this humble maiden, the eternal, transcendent, all-holy God bears a
human face…to be seen, known, and embraced…but, also, with the possibility of
being despised, rejected, and spat upon.
In the Annunciation, God becomes Immanuel in daring, vulnerable
immediacy, and the Word becomes flesh, and God speaks directly to the human
heart.
What
will the human response be to this appearing?
This is the fundamental question which each of the Gospels pose to those
who read them. Luke, here in the Infancy
Narrative, as he will do throughout his two-volume work, interrogates us with
this question. Will we be like Mary who
responds in humble faith? Or will we be
like Zechariah who doubts, only to come around after much rationalizing? Or will we be like those to come who will
reject him altogether? For, as he will
soon put forth in Simeon’s address to Mary, “Behold, this
child is destined for the fall and rise of many in Israel….”
Today different paths ahead now open up before us in this feast of the turning of time, and Mary and her Son show us the way to proceed forward. Luke’s Gospel, his good news to us, is that heaven and earth are becoming one in this new, decisive in-breaking of God to humankind…and God is in search of some who will give their unequivocal fiat, their whole-hearted “yes” to this summons. God’s power plus our “yes” equals a new creation…one where the dust of the earth is transfigured and can bear the face of God. Will you dare to believe? Will you, too, out of the dust of your life come to bear the face of God?
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