It started with a kiss.
For decades, generations perhaps, the image of the Immaculate Conception was not the familiar Virgin on the crescent moon with flowing hair...no, it was the image of a simple kiss between Joaquim and Anna. Two older parents who had struggled to maintain dignity and respect in a community built upon the importance of family and tradition. Joaquim had been shamed in the temple for not producing off-spring, and Anna carried the shame of being barren. It was the same Gabriel, the messenger who would later visit Mary at the annunciation, that appeared to Joaquim in a dream that announced that Anna would produce a child. That she would birth something new.
Tonight is the Eve of the celebration of this most miraculous event. This event, this Immaculate Conception, was one in a series of events in our salvation history, and it culminated in the birth of a child that would change the world, which we'll celebrate in a few short weeks.
But I'm getting ahead of myself.
I've been thinking a lot lately about the ways in which we birth new things in our lives. Sometimes it's a ministry, or a project, or an art piece. Sometimes it's a new awareness or understanding of our life. Sometimes it's recreating ourselves.
Mary, the perhaps ever-virgin, protectress of the vulnerable, the marginalized, the suffering, is my model of not only liberation, but also friendship. For the last several months I have been completely dependent on the love and care of my friends...Jeffrey, Nancy, Viviane, Callie, Samuel and Alexis. They have, in their own ways, provided hospitality; they have fed me, hugged me, listened to me cry, and absolved me of my shame. They have met me at the city gate with open hearts and arms, greeting me with the good news that Gabriel offered Joaquim...you will have new life...you will make new life.
So dear readers, on this Eve of the Feast of the Immaculate Conception, I invite you to consider what new life is awaiting you...what new life, perfect just because it is of God, are you creating?
For decades, generations perhaps, the image of the Immaculate Conception was not the familiar Virgin on the crescent moon with flowing hair...no, it was the image of a simple kiss between Joaquim and Anna. Two older parents who had struggled to maintain dignity and respect in a community built upon the importance of family and tradition. Joaquim had been shamed in the temple for not producing off-spring, and Anna carried the shame of being barren. It was the same Gabriel, the messenger who would later visit Mary at the annunciation, that appeared to Joaquim in a dream that announced that Anna would produce a child. That she would birth something new.
Tonight is the Eve of the celebration of this most miraculous event. This event, this Immaculate Conception, was one in a series of events in our salvation history, and it culminated in the birth of a child that would change the world, which we'll celebrate in a few short weeks.
But I'm getting ahead of myself.
I've been thinking a lot lately about the ways in which we birth new things in our lives. Sometimes it's a ministry, or a project, or an art piece. Sometimes it's a new awareness or understanding of our life. Sometimes it's recreating ourselves.
Mary, the perhaps ever-virgin, protectress of the vulnerable, the marginalized, the suffering, is my model of not only liberation, but also friendship. For the last several months I have been completely dependent on the love and care of my friends...Jeffrey, Nancy, Viviane, Callie, Samuel and Alexis. They have, in their own ways, provided hospitality; they have fed me, hugged me, listened to me cry, and absolved me of my shame. They have met me at the city gate with open hearts and arms, greeting me with the good news that Gabriel offered Joaquim...you will have new life...you will make new life.
So dear readers, on this Eve of the Feast of the Immaculate Conception, I invite you to consider what new life is awaiting you...what new life, perfect just because it is of God, are you creating?