In
his compelling and controversial novel, The
Testament of Mary, Colm Toibin, imagines how Mary felt while carrying Jesus
in her womb:
I know that my own happiness in those first months,
when I was with child, felt strange and special, that I lived in a way that was
different, that I often stood at the window and looked at the light outside and
felt that the new life within me, the second heart beating, fulfilled me beyond
anything I had ever imagined. Later I
learned that this is how we all prepare ourselves to give birth and to nurture,
that it comes from the body itself and makes its way into the spirit (p. 77)
when I was with child, felt strange and special, that I lived in a way that was
different, that I often stood at the window and looked at the light outside and
felt that the new life within me, the second heart beating, fulfilled me beyond
anything I had ever imagined. Later I
learned that this is how we all prepare ourselves to give birth and to nurture,
that it comes from the body itself and makes its way into the spirit (p. 77)
The
Magnificat, Mary’s song about Jesus, voices her intuition that the happiness in
her would become cosmic joy and that the second heart beating in her was the
heart of God’s new life for the world.
That life, for a time enclosed in her body, would embrace all the world
with healing, restoring, and reconciling love.
Magnificat, Mary’s song about Jesus, voices her intuition that the happiness in
her would become cosmic joy and that the second heart beating in her was the
heart of God’s new life for the world.
That life, for a time enclosed in her body, would embrace all the world
with healing, restoring, and reconciling love.
Our
imaginations soar on the wings of her song.
If we hear it well, it will move us to action, because it is a movement
song, a freedom song. It isn’t a
lullaby; and, because it isn’t, I’ve been wondering about what her lullabies
must have been like. When she held him
to her breast in the middle of the night, what did she say and sing? Maybe something like this?
imaginations soar on the wings of her song.
If we hear it well, it will move us to action, because it is a movement
song, a freedom song. It isn’t a
lullaby; and, because it isn’t, I’ve been wondering about what her lullabies
must have been like. When she held him
to her breast in the middle of the night, what did she say and sing? Maybe something like this?
You, my child, are God’s child, too.
God’s heart is filled with love for
you.
you.
In my arms you sleep tonight.
Always you rest in God’s delight.
The angels sang when I gave you
birth.
birth.
You are peace for all the earth.
Time
and again, Mary whispered to Jesus that he was, not just her boy, but God’s
beloved child in whom God took great delight.
With her deeds and her words, her spirit and her songs, she prepared him
for the profound experience he would have at his baptism. His hear was ready to hear God’s own voice
claiming him and reassuring him: “You
are my son. I love you. I take great delight in you.” The adult Jesus trusted in God as Abba,
Daddy, Tender Father, because Mary was Amma, Mommy, Loving Mother. She had been telling him all along: “You, my
child, are God’s child, too. God’s heart
is filled with love for you.”
and again, Mary whispered to Jesus that he was, not just her boy, but God’s
beloved child in whom God took great delight.
With her deeds and her words, her spirit and her songs, she prepared him
for the profound experience he would have at his baptism. His hear was ready to hear God’s own voice
claiming him and reassuring him: “You
are my son. I love you. I take great delight in you.” The adult Jesus trusted in God as Abba,
Daddy, Tender Father, because Mary was Amma, Mommy, Loving Mother. She had been telling him all along: “You, my
child, are God’s child, too. God’s heart
is filled with love for you.”
I
know that it is a cliché, I know, but it is also deeply true: the greatest gift
of Christmas is the life of Mary’s cherished child and God’s beloved son. Jesus is God’s love made flesh and blood,
muscle and bone. Jesus he is the heart
and soul of divinity wrapped in our essential humanity. Jesus was God’s love
born in a Bethlehem manger, walking the dusty streets of Nazareth, roaming the
Galilean countryside, and clashing with arrogant, death-dealing power in
Jerusalem. In Jesus, the love of God
found a human voice, touched broken bodies with human, healing hands, embraced
the alienated and excluded in human arms, held children close to a beating,
loving human heart, shed human tears, shared human laughter, knew human desires,
and died a human death. Through the
resurrection and Spirit of Jesus, God continues to lavish love on us. God sings to us with Jesus’ voice: “My heart
is filled with love for you.”
know that it is a cliché, I know, but it is also deeply true: the greatest gift
of Christmas is the life of Mary’s cherished child and God’s beloved son. Jesus is God’s love made flesh and blood,
muscle and bone. Jesus he is the heart
and soul of divinity wrapped in our essential humanity. Jesus was God’s love
born in a Bethlehem manger, walking the dusty streets of Nazareth, roaming the
Galilean countryside, and clashing with arrogant, death-dealing power in
Jerusalem. In Jesus, the love of God
found a human voice, touched broken bodies with human, healing hands, embraced
the alienated and excluded in human arms, held children close to a beating,
loving human heart, shed human tears, shared human laughter, knew human desires,
and died a human death. Through the
resurrection and Spirit of Jesus, God continues to lavish love on us. God sings to us with Jesus’ voice: “My heart
is filled with love for you.”
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