Friday of the Third Week of Advent
What do you think happened to the innkeepers? You know, the ones who turned away Joseph and his pregnant wife, Mary? They were just doing their job, right? They were taking care of the people who got to their inn first and they were likely already overwhelmed by the task. Joseph and Mary were probably not the only ones turned away that night. But what if the innkeepers had known that they were turning away the Holy Family? Would it have mattered to them? Would they have believed it? Would they have offered to displace other guests in order to care for the Mother of God? Is that what Mary would have wanted?
I pondered these questions while driving through Dayton this week, listening to one of our family’s favorite Christmas CDs, Peace on Earth by Casting Crowns. The lyrics to the song, While You Were Sleeping claim that Bethlehem will “go down in history as a city with no room for its King, while you were sleeping.” The end of the song challenges the United States of America, asking if we will also be a nation with no room for its King. Yet while this is a powerful question to ponder, there was another verse that struck me: “Born among the animals wrapped in dirty rags because there was no room for Him in the world He came to save.” My heart is drawn to the vivid imagery of a baby wrapped in dirty rags. I came home, stepped up on my soapbox and began telling Brandon, “See! We think we need to build elaborate churches with expensive materials–gold, silver, incense, etc–in order to please a God who was born on Earth with some dirty rags!” After some thought, Brandon reminded me that all those expensive material things–the gold, the frankincense, the myrrh–they were part of the story too, just a bit later. Oh, yeah. There is room. It all matters; everyone and everyone’s gifts. Regardless of their worldly value, our gifts to God matter. Give all that we have–our heart, our soul, our strength–our most precious gift.
Perhaps, in that moment, in a stable, all that could be offered to sweet, baby Jesus were some dirty rags and a feeding trough. But as we hear at the Annunciation and as we read in today’s Gospel, Mary has already given her entire being - body, soul, and spirit to God. Her entire soul magnifies the Lord, her spirit rejoices in God, and she allows God’s will to be fulfilled in her physical womb. What more could she possibly offer? Similarly, in today’s first reading, Hannah brings her greatest gift, her son, Samuel, to give to the Lord. What a precious gift! Maybe the innkeeper who offered his stable was giving all he had left. The wise men were giving their most precious gifts. What are we giving? What is our most precious gift?
The Magnificat is one of my favorite prayers. It’s beautiful, challenging, and sometimes terrifying depending on where we stand in the world. Mary is so open to the ways the Spirit is moving within her and within the world that she prophesies a world turned upside down. She could envision a world where the Almighty would scatter the proud, cast down the mighty, send the rich away empty and, perhaps more importantly, lift up the lowly and fill the hungry with good things. As we ponder our own role in this prayer, let us consider how we are giving our best selves and our most precious gifts to God.
Gaudete,
LeeAnn Meyer