With Mary, let it be

‘You were also blessed because you have heard and believed. A soul that believes both conceives and brings forth the Word of God and acknowledges his works. Let Mary’s soul be in each of you to proclaim the greatness of the Lord. Christ has only one mother in the flesh, but we all bring forth Christ in faith.’ (St. Ambrose, 339-397)

With eyes to see and ears to hear, we receive the wonder the Lord unveils to our senses that we might discover the beauty of the divine heart and know this wonder within ourselves, amid tears of joy.

For in this of all seasons, we see that we are loved by a Great Love whose joy is seeing our faces come to life, our eyes alight with surprise that we, of all creatures, should be one with the Love who made us. It is for exactly this purpose that we are created, to be joined in love with the One who is Love.

From the start of the Christmas story, we can see this. Imagine an angel, Gabriel, pure spirit, appearing in such form that a young woman might see and hear words of divine favor spoken just for her. Gabriel appears, loving the very sight of her soul, longing for Mary to believe that the secret darkness of her womb might hold the Light whom heaven and earth cannot contain.

But who can imagine it? Words are insufficient. Perhaps artists can bear us into the mystery. Thousands have tried, the great and the mediocre. With paint and brush, light and color, they exhausted their skills, longing to touch the mystery and capture the moment when heaven’s heart was conceived in the body and soul of a mere mortal who dared to say, ‘let it be.’

 

(Fra Angelico, Annunciation 1440-1445)

I return to two images each year. In Fra Angelico’s Annunciation, Gabriel bows before Mary, holding his (her?) heart lest it burst with love and hope, longing for her to believe, trust and know that Love has chosen her to be Love’s holy temple. For she is to bear the beauty of the divine face into a dark and dying world that we might see and feel the warmth of divine light melting the cold darkness of our hearts.

Mary’s eyes turn down before the wonder of heaven’s messenger. Bent at the waist, her posture matches Gabriel’s bow, each offering humble reverence to the other.

With Gabriel, she is consumed in the moment of encounter, lost in the incomprehensible surprise that her life, hidden in an insignificant place, should be known, desired and chosen to bear Love’s greatest gift that we, the exiles, lost and mortal, might find our way to the home we have always wanted.

But perhaps Mary’s eyes cannot conceive or understand any of this, any more than we can. Perhaps her eyes are like ours, confused, wondering, apprehensive, not knowing what Gabriel’s greeting portends, but not turning away either, for we want, we need, we long. Our hearts attuned to the heart of the One who made us, restlessness remains until we are one with the Mystery of the Love we shall never understand in all of eternity.

(Henry Ossawa Tanner, The Annunciation, 1898)

Yes, this is our state as we listen to Gabriel’s words to Mary, inviting her to believe that she will bear the heart of God, the beauty of Christ, into the world. But this is not a message for her alone. It is a word to us and very much for us. For, the One who is born of Mary longs for your consent.

The Loving Mystery, who fashioned the stars, shaped your soul to be Love’s own dwelling, ever waiting, eager and longing for our hearts to lay down our pretenses, surrender our defenses and open ourselves to Love’s invitation to bear the beauty all heaven and earth cannot contain.

Speak then. With Mary, offer your heart in the words we most need to say, ‘Let it be. Let the beauty you are take flesh and blood in the kindness of my heart, in the forgiveness I struggle to share and the grace I try to be. Let it be, let it be, let it be … that your greatness may be known in the one life you have given me.

David L. Miller