Read: Luke 1:26-56 and 2:1-20
When the angels had left them and gone into heaven, the shepherds said to one another, “Let us go now to Bethlehem and see this thing that has taken place, which the Lord has made known to us.” So they went with haste and found Mary and Joseph, and the child lying in the manger. When they saw this, they made known what had been told them about this child; and all who heard it were amazed at what the shepherds told them. But Mary treasured all these words and pondered them in her heart. The Shepherds returned, glorifying and praising God for all they had heard and seen, as it had been told them (Luke 2:15-20, NRSV).
You know how it is. Something incredible happens, and the next day your brain tries to convince you that it didn’t really happen.
That’s sort of what it was like after the angel Gabriel showed up to tell me that I would bear the One for whom we’ve been waiting. I had the presence of mind to point out to him that I was a virgin, but that didn’t deter him. “The Holy Spirit will come upon you,” he said, swatting away my question as if it were a pesky fly. “The power of the Most High will overshadow you; therefore, the child to be born will be holy; he will be called the Son of God.”
Oh, well then, I remember thinking. That explains it all…
Still, when the Angel Gabriel is standing there waiting for a response, it’s best to say “yes” and leave any unanswered questions for later.
As the weeks passed, I decided I must have dreamed it. But then the morning sickness started. Then my cousin Elizabeth showed up. The minute I saw her obviously pregnant profile I remembered what Gabriel had said about how she was expecting as well (at her age!), and how “nothing will be impossible with God.” When Elizabeth greeted me as the “mother of my Lord,” I knew for sure it hadn’t been a dream. As if to confirm that thought, I suddenly burst into a song I didn’t know I knew. It was a song about how all generations would call me blessed. But even more importantly, it was a song about how this child would lift up the lowly and fill the hungry with good things. How he would bring down the powerful from their thrones and send the rich away empty. How he was the answer to our people’s prayers.
At a certain point, you just have to get used to an idea, even if it does seem too incredible to be true.
So, when the shepherds showed up just after Jesus was born, I heard their words as a welcome confirmation of what I already knew. It was something of a relief to know that the angels were spreading the word to someone other than my immediate family.
All this is to say that God has given me a great deal to think about. Oddly, however, I also find myself pondering a story about our ancestor Moses. Do you remember the story about him hearing God’s voice from the middle of a burning bush? A bush that burned, but was not “consumed” by the fire?
I wonder if Moses woke up the next day wondering if he’d dreamed that! I’ll bet he couldn’t stop thinking about it, even so. And I can’t stop thinking about it either. It occurs to me that I am like that burning bush. Any other human who carried the Son of God in her arms—to say nothing of her womb—would surely burn to ash. Yet, I haven’t.
At a certain point, you just have to get used to an idea, even if it does seem too incredible to be true.
Ponder: Fourth-century church father, Gregory of Nyssa, was the first person to connect Mary to the story of the burning bush. Later, Christian artists picked up on the connection. An icon of Mary Mother of God as the burning bush hangs at St. Catherin’s monastery at Mt. Sinai. How does the connection between these two stories enrich the way you “ponder” the incarnation?
Pray: Light of light, yet born of Mary, we worship and adore you.