Contemplation and Participation--December 30, 2019
"But Mary treasured all these words and pondered them in her heart." [Luke 2:19]
There are these moments in your life when you know--and maybe you can't quite put your finger on the "why" of it, but you still know--that you are a part of something important. Something vital. Something life-changing, or maybe even world-changing.
And sometimes you don't know yet what is important about the moment, or why it will turn out to have been good that you were there, or even what the ripple effects will be of the moments you are a witness to. But nevertheless, some voice says to you, "Stop. Remember all of this. Take a mental picture, and don't let this instant pass you by."
Often, if we are glued to our rectangles of technology or in our own little worlds of socializing and self-amusement, we will miss those moments as they happen, and maybe only in hindsight as we see them in the rear-view mirror do we realize what was so significant. Or maybe we know something momentous is on the horizon, but we are frightened of the consequences of participating rather than watching from the sidelines, and so we step back and stare at our feet while the important moment comes and goes.
But sometimes, we are graced with the courage, the wisdom, and the openness of our eyes to see one of those Important Moments as it is unfolding, and we both step into it to take our part in living it, and also commit that instant in time to our memory to become a defining piece of who we are. I've got to be honest--it seems like it is a pretty rare bird in this life to find someone who knows how to do that with regularity. But Mary, the Mother of our Lord, she does it twice in the first two chapters of Luke, all within a span of nine months.
At the beginning of her pregnancy, literally as she is being greeted by an angel with the news that she is being tapped to bear the Christ into the world, Luke says that Mary "pondered what sort of greeting this might be." She does not run away from the huge significance of this moment, nor does she fail to understand the burden that comes along with the blessing. But as she sees this moment that is unfolding in front of her, she "ponders" what is about to happen, and what it will mean for the course of her life, and for the life of the whole world. She is wise to "ponder," to sort of let the reality steep like tea or simmer like a pot on the stove slowly becoming soup. And she is brave to say "yes" even though all the costs of that yes are not yet spelled out. And that is only on the day she finds out about the pregnancy.
When the baby is born, of course, and the wild-eyed scruffy-lookin' sheep-herders come in from the fields with a story about angels as well, Luke notes that Mary once again "ponders" these words in her heart and treasures them. She knows she is living through something important. She knows that her role is just beginning. And she knows that her part is just one piece of a much larger movement that God has instigated, which will culminate in the restoration of all creation itself. She may only have glimpses and hints and hunches about all that is in store, both for her and for her son, but she knows to pay attention... and she knows not to run away from the action. Once again, Mary shows remarkable and rare wisdom and courage, and she holds onto the moment, knowing that her actions in that night will reverberate far beyond the manger.
And in that, Mary is a good example for us as well. I know, we among the tribe called "Lutherans" are not great at knowing what to do with Mary. Sometimes we run away from any talk about her at all, because we are nervous about treating her as somehow more important than Jesus. Sometimes we treat her only as a quiet, unthinking vessel who just smiles and nods like the nervous girl who plays her in so many church Christmas pageants, rather than seeing her as a strong, faithful, intelligent, and bold woman of faith who dares to sing about a God who feeds the hungry with good things and scatters the proud. Sometimes we treat her as unapproachable, as if the fact that she is rightly called "Mother of God" makes her more than human... which just ain't so.
But this moment is one of those times when it seems clear, like shouting from the pages clear, that Mary offers us an example of how to respond faithfully to the Big Thing that God is doing among us. We would do well to watch her wisdom and her courage, and to see how she steps up to the moment she is summoned into, both to act, and to reflect on what is happening. We are called both to join in the movement God is stirring up, and to ponder what it means as we participate. One with out the other won't do: just leaping in without reflection leaves us thinking ourselves the heroes and leads into recklessness, but all thinking without ever getting around to leaping into the roles we are called to is just a cover for cowardice. Mary thinks AND she acts. She participates AND she ponders. And she has her eyes open enough to know that the moment she has been brought to requires both of her.
It occurs to me that other heroes and role models of our faith have learned the same lesson in their own lives and actions. There's Dietrich Bonhoeffer, honestly reflecting on the monstrosity that the Reich-Church had become in its fawning devotion to Hitler, and seeing that such a co-opted faith hardly fit with the God who loves and protects the marginalized and the lowly in the Scriptures. And it was his pondering, much like Mary's, that led him to act in resistance to the Nazi war machine as well as gave him the resolve to keep at it. There's Dorothy Day, whose devotion to the God who loves recklessly led her to act with prodigal care for those most in need and most ignored in the city streets around her. Her "treasuring" of God's word did not stop in her head, but led her to participate in God's life-giving mission right at her doorstep. There's Dr. King, and Bayard Rustin with him, both deeply committed to reflection and self-examination as a part of their commitment to non-violent resistance to Jim Crow, to segregation, and, frankly, to the apathy of so much of the white moderate Christian church in America at the time as well.
None of these wise and courageous voices from our history--from our family story as God's people--are the savior or the central hero. But like Mary, they know they are being called to play a vital role, to contribute, in Whitman's words, their own verse to the song. And each of them were both wise enough to think, to pray, and to ponder what was happening in front of them, and also courageous enough to act, to speak, and to love when the time came.
In that sense, Mary's work continues with all of us, because we continue to be called to step up as well as to study up, to contemplate and to participate, in the unending work God has begun to bring life to all things, to resurrect every corner of creation.
Where are you and I being called to both the tasks of action and reflection, as part of God's movement in the world to restore all things?
Maybe there's something to ponder in this new day.
Lord God, we are thankful for the examples and witness of those whom you have drawn into your work ahead of us, and we are thankful for your gifts of wisdom and courage. Open our eyes to see where you are leading us today, and open our hearts to ponder what you are calling us to be about within it.
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