My wife is amazing. Anyone who knows her knows this. I married up in every sense of the word (except height). When she was pregnant with each of our children, I saw her do things that would have us mere men falter: manage the safe release of more than twenty thousand high school students from an arena, facilitate meetings with adults who behave like children, work full time, cook, clean, and wrangle our own children all by herself while I am an ocean away.
Yes, she is amazing. Pregnant or not. Women are amazing. We men should know that, respect that, honor that, and always remember that.
Even with all of this amazing-ness, all of it pales in comparison to what we read about in today’s Gospel. In Luke, chapter one, Mary sets out in haste. Having just learned she will be the mother of her Lord, an unwed mother at that, she thinks not of herself, but of her cousin whom she has learned is now with child. She must go help. There is no choice. She must head out in haste.
Having been to the Holy Land and having made the journey Mary made (in an afternoon, in a van), I am drawn into that story. We celebrate the Annunciation in March, the Visitation in May, and the birth of Christ at Christmas. It fits nicely with our modern-day calendar, but let’s imagine for a moment that it actually lines up with history. Mary receives a visit from the angel, to which she gives hers fiat, her “yes” to God. Then, hearing that Elizabeth, a cousin presumably, is with child, she forgets her own needs and heads out – in haste! For the next sixty or so days, she hikes her way up and down hills, through the valley of villages, across very dry land, traversing rocks, heat, and discomfort as she goes – all so she can be of service to someone else. The short van ride we made in air conditioning took her two months – though my hunch is that she probably would have stopped to help anyone else she saw in need. Still, I haven’t done anything “in haste” in some time and that line reminds us of Mary’s single-mindedness. Elizabeth is first. May is second. It’s clear she was teaching Jesus from the get-go.
Once again, we turn to Ruth Mary Fox and her wonderful poem about this event. Let each of us commit to going “in haste” to someone in need this week. Let us bring Christ to others so they, too, may leap for joy.
Into the hillside country Mary went
Carrying Christ.
And all along the road the Christ she carried
Generously bestowed his grace on those she met.
But she had not meant to tell she carried Christ
She was content to hide his love for her.
But about her glowed such joy that into stony hearts
Love flowed
And even to the unborn John, Christ’s love was sent.
Christ, in the sacrament of love each day, dwells in my soul
A little space.
And then as I walk life’s crowded highways
Jostling men who seldom think of God
To these, I pray, that I may carry Christ
For it may be
Some may not know of him
Except through me.
Have a wonderful week.
