CONGREGAZIONE
SUORE DELLA PROVVIDENZA ROSMINIANE
Via Aurelia, 773
ROMA
Solemnity of the Annunciation, 25 March 2015
My dear Sisters,
I give thanks to God and to Sr Francesca Saveria and Sisters for the wonderful visit to India recently, in Kerala and Maharashtra: two places where there are many and clear signs of life all around and where the Sisters are fully and joyfully involved in the local Church. In both places there are many legal and fiscal issues to be addressed in order to comply with local regulations, including numerous meetings with Bishops and lawyers, covering long distances.
Walking on the land of a country such as India where distance is taken for granted, fills the mind with gratitude along with all sorts of other emotions. In this context I consider the Annunciation. Mary listensto the message of the Angel: she is called to become the mother of the Word incarnate and almost in the same breath she discovers that Elizabeth in her old age has conceived a son – this two-fold news contributes to and confirms her ‘Yes’.
The Spirit overshadows Mary, forming in her body a relationship with Jesus: as the child begins growing in her womb, she brings the real presence of God into the world. Mary, in creating a relationship with Jesus Christ, receives the possibility to create relationship with others in Christ. She doesn’t keep the revelation of joy to herself and turn in on herself. Instead she listens to and believes the message ‘nothing is impossible for God’ both in her own regard and in that of Elizabeth and consequently as soon as the Word Incarnate IS there in the flesh of Mary she goes, in joyful gratitude,focussed on moving outwards in compassion ‘with haste’, irrespective of the long journey and the nature of the land ahead of her.
Mary is more than a symbol, she is the Reality – of one filled with Spirit of God, the Word of God – entrusted with a mission: Mary says ‘yes’ to a future that she does not know; she lets God be God in her life, doing what he wants without trying to figure it out. The story of the Annunciation mirrors the life of the disciple, our life: what happens to Mary happens to us. God initiates the dialogue; we are afraid, we doubt; God points out the seemingly impossible IS possible if we trust; we listen and say ‘yes’; and finally with God’s grace, we are able to bring something new into the world.
We too echo Mary’s words, “How can this be?” in times of surprise, reverence or gratitude – uniting us with something beyond our immediate circumstances. It may be simply in being silent; in listening to sounds of nature or music; the awesomeness of the setting sun or an eclipse; holding a new-born baby; experiencing forgiveness. It is at a times like these – annunciation moments – when new possibility, new meaning, new hope, new life and ultimately, God’s presence becomes real for us in everyday situations.
We are surrounded by such moments where we meet God in a place of stillness and become ‘filled with grace’, in spite of our fragility and sinfulness. As Thomas Merton says: “At the center of our being is a point … which belongs entirely to God, which is never at our disposal, from which God disposes of our lives… This little point of nothingness and of absolute poverty is the pure glory of God in us. It is so to speak His name written in us, as our poverty, as our indigence, as our dependence, as our son-ship. It is like a pure diamond, blazing with the invisible light of heaven. It is in everybody, and if we could see it we would see these billion points of light coming together in the face and blaze of a sun that would make all the darkness and cruelty of life vanish. …the gate of heaven is everywhere.” (Conjectures of a Guilty Bystander) These words of the Spiritual Master (100 years since his birth), challenge us to live in deeper contemplation, compassion and unity – a legacy of deep prayer, leading to action and a commitment to justice.
During this grace-filled year dedicated to Consecrated Life and Vocation, we have two invitations. First, ‘Rallegratevi’, with its exhortation: for “all who encounter Jesus … joy is constantly born anew”, God loves and calls each one of us by name, echoing the greeting to Mary “Rejoice … the Lord is with you”.. Second, ‘Scrutate’: ”Do not put up resistance to the Holy Spirit … docility to the Spirit who comes to us and makes us go forward on the path of holiness, that holiness of the church which is beautiful” The grace of docility to the Holy Spirit, again re-echoing the words to Mary, “The spirit will come upon youtherefore the child to be born will be holy”.
At the end of this Year of Vocation, I recommend we read and take to ourselves St John Paul 11’s Address to Women Religious, Turin, Sep 4, 1988. In his words: “Now, here is a task for you: be signs of this new type of relations, of this new bond of relationship, not in an abstract manner, but in the concrete fabric of your existence, as a progressive rediscovery of the way of being disciples of Jesus in every moment and condition of life. (6) And “In the Church you incarnate the task of Mary Most Holy (3) “Never take your gaze off Mary; listen to her when she says: ‘Do what Jesus tells you’ (Jn 2:5). Pray to her too with daily solicitude, that the Lord may continue to raise up generous souls who can say ‘yes’ to his vocational call.”
Reflection:
Dear Sisters, we are here for each other: to create human kindness and compassion and to make a difference in the world.
This is God beginning a conversation. And when we realize that this might be God’s voice, what happens? Sometimes we’re grateful. But just as often we’re fearful—like Mary. First of all, the initiative lies entirely with God. God begins the conversation with Mary, as God does with us, breaking into our lives in unexpected ways. We find ourselves touched by a Scripture reading, moved to tears by a friend’s comforting words during a confusing time, or befuddled by joy at a glimpse of autumn leaves shining in the late afternoon sun. And we think: Why am I feeling these feelings of longing, gratitude, wonder?
This is God beginning a conversation. And when we realize that this might be God’s voice, what happens? Sometimes we’re grateful. But just as often we’re fearful—like Mary.
First of all, the initiative lies entirely with God. God begins the conversation with Mary, as God does with us, breaking into our lives in unexpected ways. We find ourselves touched by a Scripture reading, moved to tears by a friend’s comforting words during a confusing time, or befuddled by joy at a glimpse of autumn leaves shining in the late afternoon sun. And we think: Why am I feeling these feelings of longing, gratitude, wonder?
This is God beginning a conversation. And when we realize that this might be God’s voice, what happens? Sometimes we’re grateful. But just as often we’re fearful—like Mary.
Fear is a common reaction to the divine. When one realizes that it is God who might be drawing near, we instinctively withdraw. Thinking about the Creator of the Universe entering into the “particularity” of our lives can be terrifying. Sometimes on retreat, when I feel that I’ve suddenly received an answer to a longstanding problem, or given an insight that seems to have originated from outside me (as in “There’s no way I could have come up with that on my own”), I grow frightened or, as one translation describes Mary, “greatly disturbed.” God is paying attention to us. How could that not frighten?
We may also struggle with the notion of God paying attention to us in our littleness: in other words: Who, me? It may be hard for modern-day believers to appreciate this aspect of Mary’s life, but we must remember who Miriam of Nazareth was. First, she was a woman. Second, she was young. Third, she was most likely poor and living in an insignificant town. Finally, she was a Jew living in a land ultimately ruled by the Roman Empire. Taken together, Mary can be seen as a figure with little power. For a more contemporary image, think of God appearing to a young girl in a small village in Africa.
The angel gently counsels her to set this aside: “Do not be afraid, Mary.” Among the first words Mary hears are ones that her son will frequently use in his ministry, as when he walks on water in full view of the terrified disciples. Perhaps Mary shared her own experiences with Jesus. Why wouldn’t she? Who knows if Mary repeated the angel’s calming words to a frightened boy, a confused adolescent, or a worried adult: “Do not be afraid, Jesus.”
The angel then explains things for her. Again, as in our own lives. Take the example of a young person from an affluent background who hears a call to a different way of life. Naturally, it’s not as dramatic as Mary’s encounter, but it is an encounter with grace all the same. Imagine a college professor inviting you to consider working among the poor in the developing world. You’re initially stunned—me?—but you also intuit a sense of God’s voice in the invitation. After the initial shock wears off, the professor describes what life overseas will be like. You’ll be living in a remote village; you’ll have to learn a new language; you will be separated from your friends and family; but your encounters with those living in poverty, she says, will transform you. This is what the angel does for Mary once she surmounts her alarm: helps her discern.
At this point, along with Mary, you would probably ask, “How can this be?” This may be the facet of Mary’s life that intersects most with our own. We feel inadequate to what God seems to be asking—even if we are sure that it is God who is asking. This happens not only with an invitation to something wonderfully new and exciting, but also with a sudden turn of events that darkens life. An illness. The loss of a job. A ruptured friendship. Who hasn’t said, “How can this be?”
In response the angel is considerate. Gabriel doesn’t threaten her for the insolence of asking a question or burden her with a physical malady for speaking up, as he did with Zechariah.
Instead, the angel simply asks her to look around. “And now, your relative Elizabeth in her old age has also conceived a son; and this is the sixth month for her who was said to be barren.” Sometimes this verse is interpreted as the angel’s revealing something unknown to Mary: “Here’s a secret: Elizabeth is pregnant.” But it’s more likely that Mary, Elizabeth’s cousin, already would have heard the astonishing news of the elderly woman’s pregnancy. To my mind, the angel is saying: “You have doubts about what God will do? Then just look at what God has already done.” Looking backwards helps Mary to look forward. Awareness leads to trust.
Frequently I meet with people struggling with devastating news. In those times even the most devout can begin to doubt God’s presence. But often what helps them to regain trust is a simple question: “Has God been with you in difficult times in the past?”
In the same way that the angel reorients Mary by pointing to what has already happened, a friend can invite us to remember. “Were there times in the past” a friend might ask, “when you felt like things were confusing, but where you can now see God’s hand?”
Often we will pause and say, “Now that you mention it, when I thought I couldn’t possibly go on, I found that something or someone helped me to face my difficulties. God was with me.” Memories of God’s activity in the past enable us to embrace the future.
Newly confident, Mary says yes. Notice that she does so in absolute freedom. No one coerces her. And she was free to say no. Mary also makes her decision without appealing to a man. She doesn’t ask Joseph for permission. Nor does she tell the angel that she must consult with her father. The young woman living in a patriarchal time makes a decision about the coming king. Someone with little power agrees to bring the powerful one into the world: “Let it be with me according to your word.”
With God’s help the world is poised for something new, something that even Mary may not be able to understand fully, perhaps until the Resurrection. Remember that Mary was told that her son would be Son of God, not that he would be tortured and put to death on a cross and then rise from the dead. Mary says yes to a future that she does not know. She is an example of letting God do God’s work, without trying to figure it out.
When we say yes to God we are usually surprised by the results. We say “I do” during a wedding and receive blessings far beyond what we could have imagined. We accept a position as a teacher and our lives are changed by our students. More simply, we say yes to God and are completely transformed.
That brings us to the final part of the Annunciation. A few years ago I was discussing this passage with a friend, a Catholic sister named Janice. We were talking about how this narrative mirrors the life of the believer: God initiates the conversation; we fear; God reassures us and tells us what will be required; we doubt; God points us to past experiences and helps us to trust; we say yes; and finally we are able to bring into the world, with God’s grace, something new.
“You’re forgetting the most important part,” she said. “Then the angel left her!”
Janice was right. Then came for Mary the time of faith. Who knows if before the Resurrection she ever had an experience as transformative as the Annunciation? The Gospel of Luke tells us that Mary “pondered” all these things in her heart. It may have taken many years for things to become clear.
Profound spiritual experiences usually engender feelings of confidence and trust. But as time passes, you may begin to wonder if those events were real. Or you may never again have an experience as profound.
Mary lived long enough to see her son perform wondrous deeds. She was present at the Wedding Feast at Cana, when Jesus turned water into wine, and she also would have been witness to him after the Resurrection. Yet in those intervening years, when Jesus was an infant, then a child and an adolescent, she may have asked that same question that believers ask today: Did that really happen? Was that really God? How can I believe?
The Gospel of Luke tells us that, after the Annunciation, Mary rushed to spend time with Elizabeth, who was carrying John the Baptist in her womb. It’s hard to imagine that Mary would not have discussed her experiences with Elizabeth, a trusted older woman, and with her husband Zechariah, a devout man steeped in the Jewish Scriptures. Both would have listened carefully as Mary told her strange story, reflecting on Mary’s experience in light of the Jewish traditions. But even with the support of the wise Elizabeth and her learned husband, Mary may still have questioned.
Am I awake to the unexpected whispering of Holy Spirit?
Who are the ‘Elizabeths’ in my life for whom I would walk the distance? Are there any whom I ignore, walk away from, even reject?
At the beginning of Year of Vocation we focused on the words of Pope Francis: ‘A vocation is a fruit that ripens in a well cultivated field of mutual love that becomes mutual service, in the context of an authentic ecclesial life’. (Letter 2 Feb 2014)
What has changed in my life during this Year?
What new thing am I committed to?
What am I committed to do for others?
Happy Feast of the Annunciation to each one!
And a happy remembrance of the Birthday of Blessed Antonio Rosmini!
Love,
c.m.
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