Isaiah
7: 10–14 Hebrews 10: 4–10 Luke 1.26–38
There’s a little girl in
my congregation named Alyssa. She’s about 10 now, I guess. I
baptised her when she was 5. She’s an amazing kid. On the day of
her baptism she was beaming, I kid you not. When the liturgy began,
she stood in her pew with her family and I asked her “Do you desire
to be baptised?, she replied in a big, clear outside voice, “I
do!”. She has a remarkably keen sense of God’s presence in her
life and she is very open about the frank conversations she has with
God in her prayers. She often up-stages me during the children’s
talk (and sometimes during the sermon) with her astute answers and
profound insights. This past Christmas Eve, as the children were
sharing symbols of the Incarnation with the congregation, Alyssa went
‘off script’ and declared in that big, clear, outside voice of
hers, “Mary was Jesus’ first home”. Just think about that for
a minute – “Mary was Jesus’ first home” – it’s an
astonishingly accurate observation.
Today we hear the story of
the Annunciation; of the angel’s invitation to Mary to become
Jesus’ first home. “You will conceive in your womb and bear a
son, and you will name him Jesus – do not be afraid – you have
found favour with God.”
In the Hebrew scripture
appointed for today, Isaiah actually foretells this story: Look, a
young woman is with child and shall bear a son, and shall name
him Immanuel. Immanuel – God with us, or perhaps more accurately,
God at home with us. God came to nest with Mary – and Joseph, first
in a stable, then in exile, then in the apartment behind the
carpenter’s shop. But what about now? Where does God live
now?
Some years ago, I spent a
summer working as a chaplain in a psychiatric hospital in Montreal.
It was a hard job – one I wasn’t sure I could do. The patients I
was assigned to work with suffered from distressing illnesses that
caused them to hallucinate or hear voices. They were often fearful,
suspicious, frightened. They were all ages – some elderly, some
middle aged. One patient was 22, my age at the time. Her name was
Debby. Most of the time, she sat in the day-room, her arms wrapped
around her, hugging herself and rocking. She seldom spoke, just made
a low moaning sound. One morning, we learned she was being
transferred to a “secure” or locked unit for specialized
treatment, and as the orderly wheeled her away, she asked me
anxiously, “Fran, does God love me?” She was crying and soon, so
was I, and to comfort her, I said, though to be honest, I’m not
sure I believed it at the time, “Yes, Debby, God does love you!”
About two weeks later, Debby returned to our unit. I almost
didn’t recognize her. She was walking upright. Her blonde hair
was combed and gently braided on her shoulder. She was smiling –
actually, she was beaming. She came over to me in the day room with
her arms outstretched. She said, “You were right, Fran! God does
love me!” and she hugged me. I thought, “Finally! I’ve gotten
through to someone!” I asked her how she knew God loves her. She
said, “He told me – he delivers the mail on the locked ward.”
At first I was disappointed
– I hadn’t gotten “through” at all; I thought perhaps I had
been too optimistic, too naive. I guessed that this woman wasn’t
really cured at all – she was obviously still hallucinating,
perhaps even hearing voices, if she thought God was the postie on
the locked ward. And then it hit me. If God can come as a child
born in a stable, then who says he can’t be a postie on a locked
ward? Something in that postie’s manner – did he speak a kind
word? Did he smile at her? Did he treat her like a person, and not
merely a patient? If we believe, as we say we do, that Christ takes
“our nature upon him”, that God has made us in his image, then
aren’t we, like Mary, meant to “bear” God – to bring Christ
to others, not by what we “give” them, but by who we are? Jesus
told his disciples that if they loved him, truly loved him, then he
would dwell within them. And people will know you belong to me, that
you are my disciples, if you show love. Wherever you are, he said, I
am in your midst. So, then, where does God “live” now?
 |
| The Rev. Frances Drolet-Smith, Oblate SSJD with retreatant. |
Yes, indeed, Alyssa, “Mary
was Jesus’ first home”. And God continually comes to nest in each
one of us, inviting us to be a place of welcome in the world. Thanks
be to God.
The
Rev. Frances Drolet-Smith, Oblate SSJD
