“And Mary said, ‘Behold the handmaid of the Lord; be it unto me according to thy word.’ And the angel departed from her.” (Luke 1:38)
Not having grown up in church, the four weeks of Advent leading to Christmas were a discovery for me. To anyone struggling with and or afraid to face Christmas, I would proclaim the benefits of Advent. I would say, Christmas can be difficult and I do not blame you if you cannot bear it. But Advent is made especially for those who feel they have nothing to give.
Recently I offered something that makes me feel weak and inadequate, as it probably should. I gave an account of how I received my calling. Antithetical to how I would speak of my accomplishments, I told of God caring for me in the midst of my weakness and sickness. I tried to describe grace, the gift that defies description. The effort left me exhausted and dumbfounded.
My response to contemplating God’s Glory up close is always more or less like that of the prophets--it involves protestations, fear, and eventually praise. Remembering my struggles in God’s presence reminds me of the explanation of The Fall I like best--that we humans cannot accept our weakness—our being mere creatures. And that sin—eating from the forbidden tree of the knowledge of good and evil—is claiming an authority which dooms us to a false existence.
I think this touches on why Mary, the virgin mother of Jesus, is called the “second Eve,” and why we are in awe of her questioning but full assent to the angelic annunciation. We spend much effort insuring against being done “unto.” Despite our barrenness and need for God, we keep a tight grasp on our illusion of control.
Imagining how Mary was able to let it go is a wellspring of human creativity.
It was a few words in the conclusion of his early book, Creative Ministry, by Henri Nouwen, that enabled me to find words again:
“There are few who are willing to lay down their lives for others and make their weakness a source of their creativity.”
I have that ingredient, I thought. I will try to make an Advent gift from it.
The story of Jesus blessing the children and his explanation for doing so is not what we tend to read on Christmas, but I think it illuminates the potential in our weakness, in Mary’s youth, and in the nativity of Jesus well:
“Verily I say unto you, whosoever shall not receive the kingdom of God as a little child, he shall not enter therein.” (Luke 18:17, Mark 10:15)
Advent contemplates and Christmas eventuates the coming of the Kingdom of Heaven through the incarnation of Christ. None of us wants to feel bereft or lost, but when we allow our weakness and emptiness to prepare us to receive what God offers, we receive the seed of a creative gift and also a point of entry into God’s kingdom.
Join me for a short Advent retreat on Zoom on 12/17 in which we will prepare for and celebrate God’s creative work in us through art, with a short prayer service of Compline after for those who wish to stay on. All are welcome. Click HERE to register.
And look for John Milton’s “On the Morning of Christ’s Nativity” in the next Blog post, with some thoughts by our poetry consultant, Evan Craig Reardon.
Click HERE for a listing of our Advent and Christmas services.
Wishing you God’s peace,
—Brynna, Director of Cathedral Arts and Assistant to the Dean for Mission
For a creative and perhaps odd Advent gift, learn about the painting below and see more by this artist by clicking HERE.
