Lent Day 21: Lady Day

When I find myself in times of trouble...

I'm going to tell you these things in the order in which I learned them. 

Growing up Catholic, of course I knew that March 25 was the Feast of the Annunciation of Gabriel to Mary. It was the first Joyful Mystery of the rosary, and I inherited my love of the rosary and of Mary from my mother. (She stopped going to church, but she never stopped saying the rosary.)

In the sixth month the angel Gabriel was sent by God to a town in Galilee called Nazareth, to a virgin engaged to a man whose name was Joseph, of the house of David. The virgin’s name was Mary. And he came to her and said, “Greetings, favored one! The Lord is with you.”
~Luke 1:26-28

At some point it occurred to me that, of course, someone did the math and counted nine months backwards from Christmas.

Nope.

Rather, I learned that March 25 was celebrated as the day of the conception of Jesus Christ very early in church history. The reason for this was that the church, from its very earliest days, marked March 25 as the date of the crucifixion. 

I did not understand. Why should these be the same day? Wasn't that some kind of crazy coincidence?

No. It was, rather, trust in the consistency of God's designs for humankind. If the crucifixion took place on March 25, it stood to reason that it was also the date of Christ's conception, because it was the day chosen by God to be the day of salvation. God's purposes were being worked out in creation on this very day, whether that was by Christ's crucifixion or his conception... or even the creation of all things. Yes, there is also an ancient tradition that March 25 was the first day of creation.

Finally, I was today years old when I learned that, for nearly 600 years, March 25 was New Year's Day for the British Empire, also known as Lady Day. (Thanks so much Cody!).

So, a blessed day of Annunciation to you all, and a blessed remembrance of the first Good Friday. However it was done, by whatever method or design, today is a day to recall God's overflowing love for us.

Enjoy this, my favorite rendition of Mary's magnificent song, the Magnificat.

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.
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