Celtic Advent - Day XI - November 25

 

Celtic Advent - Day XI - November 25

No Wind At The Window

No wind at the window.

no lock on the door,

no light from the lamp stand,

no foot on the floor;

no dream born of tiredness,

no ghost raised by fear;

just an angel and a woman

and a voice in her ear.

Of all the songs in Advent, I think this one is right at the tipity-top of my list. You can hear the first verse of this song sung here. 

The tune is 'Columcille' (Gaelic for St. Columba) but it's not the tune we're used to hearing in in the Episcopal Hymnal. (The meter is 6565 D) 

It's from the Wild Goose Community at Iona. The powerful words of this poem and the picture it paints, were written, of course, by John Bell and Graham Maule and can be found in their book, "Known Unknowns: 100 Contemporary Texts to Common Tunes". 

This is the Annunciation - that sacred moment when Gabriel came to Mary to tell her that God had chosen her for a special task and to ask her to respond to his request. 

Here's the second verse: 

Oh Mary, oh Mary

don't hide from my face.

Be glad that you're favored

and filled with God's grace.

The time for redeeming

the world has begun;

and you are requested

to mother God's son. 

I love how the poem gives Mary agency. Not a lot of hymns or the way the story is told or preached do that. In John Bell's version of this sacred moment, it is not assumed that "Lady Mary" would simply, humbly, quietly, like a bleating lamb to the slaughter,  say 'yes'. 

The words Gabriel says to Mary have a different connotation than the interpretations of Luke's gospel (Luke 1:26-38). In the translation of Luke's ancient words, the action is in the future (" . . . and now you will conceive in your womb"), but interpreters have assumed that it "will" happen, no matter what Mary thinks of the plan. 

Luke seems more keen to tell what "will" happen rather than to communicate Mary's will in the matter of what will happen to her body and her life. 

John Bell's poem/hymn conveys that Mary had an option to say no. The words of his poem are: " . . . and you are requested to mother God's son." 

God 'requested' of Mary. What a lovely idea, so in keeping with what we've come to know of God through the revelations of the teachings and the life of Jesus . 

One of the real joys of being a priest is hearing other people's stories of an Annunciation - a call to a vocation, most often to ordained ministry. I have never heard anyone's story including an actual angel, much less one with a name, but I'm sure those stories also exist.

The "angels" in the stories I've heard have to do with receiving a sense of enlightenment while listening to a sermon, or a piece of music, or, in one case, while talking to a homeless person. 

My favorite story is about a woman who struggled for years with a sense of vocation, but because she had also struggled with learning, she thought she was, in her words, "a moron, too dumb to be a priest." 

She saw her skills in the kitchen as her vocation, so she became a caterer, to the raving and appreciative cheers of her clients and customers. "Jesus said, 'feed my sheep'," she said. "I guess that's what I'm doing."

But, the "call" wouldn't go away, so she came to me to do some spiritual discernment. It took me some time of gentle persuasion, but I finally got her to confront her presenting "problem".

I was convinced that she was not "dumb" but probably had some learning disabilities that had been undiagnosed.  I didn't say that to her, of course, but little did I know how close to the truth I had come. 

We finally found a psychologist who would administer an IQ test. 

She had her appointment and, a week later, went in for the results. That afternoon, we had a scheduled appointment. She was noticeably pale and seemed stunned. She sat down in the rocking chair and rocked for about 5 minutes before she finally found the words to speak.

She started by saying that the first thing the examiner asked her was about her son, which she thought quite peculiar. She asked his age and how he was doing in school. 

She said, well, he had had a difficult start but once he had been diagnosed with learning disabilities, he got the help he needed and was actually excelling.

The examiner asked if anyone had ever asked her if she had learning disabilities. She said her heart sank. "No," she answered, "I've just never been very good at school." 

"Did anyone ever tell you that your son's learning disabilities were probably a familial thing - that it probably ran in her family?"

 

"No," she said. "No, I just thought my son, well, had learning disabilities, as I had been told." 

"Well," said the examiner, "so do you. Which is why your IQ score can't be accurately measured."

She said her heart sank. She just knew that this was where the hammer dropped. She was so stupid, her IQ so low, it didn't even register.

She took a deep breath and asked, So, just how low is my IQ?" 

"Low?" The examiner put her head back and laughed. "My dear," she said, "your IQ is so high we don't have the tools to measure it here." She added, "You are at the level of genius."

As the words of the examiner washed over her, she closed her eyes and, when she opened them, she realized she had gone from a moron to a genius.  Just like that. 

And, just like that, right there in the examiner's room, right in front of the examiner, she heard a voice in her ear say, "I have called you to be one of my priests."

She looked at the examiner and said, "Yes," right out loud, as tears streamed down her face.  She told me that was the first time she had dared say 'yes' out loud but, she said, "I know I had been saying 'yes' in my heart for years."

She said the examiner looked a little confused but understood that something else - something more, something deep, something important, something spiritual - was happening in that room. 

To this day, I refer to that as her own Annunciation. I love how her son was an unknowing vehicle of the discernment of her vocation. 

God speaks to us in various ways - sometimes right into our ear - but first God speaks through other people, other things. We just have to listen to the varieties of ways God sends messages and messengers. 

And, when we do, God does respect our agency, our ability to choose how it is we want to respond. When we do respond, our lives, like Mary's life, are changed and transformed and will never again be the same.

Take some time to consider some of the stories of your own life. Look at the patterns that emerge. Look back at the road you traveled to have made the decisions you made to be where you are now. Is there wind at your window? Or, is there a voice speaking to you through your stillness or surprise or tears? 

I will leave you with the last two verses of Bell's poem/hymn as this evening meditation:

This child must be born

that the kingdom may come -

salvation for many

destruction for some:

both end and beginning,

both message and sign,

both victor and victim,

both yours and divine.

No payment was promised,

no promises made,

no wedding was dated,

no blueprint displayed.

Yet Mary's consenting

to what none could guess,

replied with conviction,
'Tell God I said, 'yes.'