Lent Day 17: March 25: A Woman's Body

Today is March 25: according to the church calendar, it is the feast of the Annunciation of the angel Gabriel to Mary.

The gospel of Luke paints a rosy picture (Luke 1:26-38; you can find it here.)

An angel comes and greets Mary, who must have been a young girl (somewhere between 13 and 16). "Rejoice, favored one! The Lord is with you!" And when Mary doesn't exactly immediately rejoice, because, divine messengers are, apparently, terrifying, the angel adds, "Do not be afraid."

I'll stop there for a moment. I can't imagine she could have been anything but terrified by the news that followed: that God was going to cause a miraculous pregnancy in her, and that the child would be some kind of exalted, divine figure.

"...Son of the Most High."

"... the throne of David."

"...ruler over the house of Jacob forever."

No matter how you look at it, Mary is in a terrible position.

She is engaged to be married, and in this culture that is a contract every bit as serious as the wedding itself.

Given the laws that are on the books at this time, there is a threat, not just of disgrace, but of death by stoning.

There are cultures in our world today where that is still true; death by stoning, or by fire, or simply by your father or brother shooting or strangling you for disgracing the family by having sex where/ when you weren't allowed to.

(Because, what is the likelihood anyone will believe this story?)

My mom's beloved little statue of Mary.

On this feast of the annunciation, color me skeptical-- not of the virgin birth, necessarily. I am confident God could and can achieve whatever outcomes God wants. But of this story, in which the only emotion betrayed by Mary is a gentle wondering, "how is this possible?" followed by a calm "I am the Lord's servant. Let it be with me just as you have said."

Color me skeptical, because men have long policed and claimed ownership over women's bodies, and that's still a thing.

I guess I read this story in this way: It's a memory colored (just like all our memories) by what happened after that.... here, a fiance who, apparently, did believe her, or, at least, still wanted to be married to her... followed by the life of Jesus, her child, followed by his terrible death, which these scriptures tell us she witnessed, followed by the resurrection, during which time she was among his followers.

This is a memory filled in with the bright and shiny hues of life bursting forth from death.

Today, I want to remember that scared girl. I want to honor whatever it took for her to live through whatever kind of day this was, and the day after that, and every day for the next, long nine months. The looks on her parents' faces. The look on Joseph's. The women leaning together at the well, whispering when she came for water.

I want to remember and honor her, not as the calm, self-sacrificing Mother of God, but as a terrified teenager, wondering how in the world she would get through this.
.