O Dayspring

O Dayspring, Brightness of the light everlasting, and Sun of Righteousness: come and enlighten those who sit in darkness and the shadow of death.

Isaiah 7:10-14; Psalm 24; Luke 1:26-38

"The people who walked in darkness have seen a great light; those who lived in a land of deep darkness—on them light has shined." Isaiah 9:2

Today is the second Annunciation.  The first was to Zechariah, whose question caused him to be silenced.  Today Gabriel comes again, and again says, “Don’t be afraid.”  Again, he tells of the Holy Spirit doing something crazy and scandalous.  Again, the recipient asks, “What are you talking about?”  But this time is different.  Instead of being silenced, Mary will go on the road and sing the Magnificat.  So what’s different?

Zechariah asks, “How will I know this is so?”  Mary asks, “How can this be?”  What’s the difference?

Here’s my guess.  Zechariah’s question is one we call epistemological.  He has questions about how he will know something to be the case.  It’s actually a stupid question: he’ll know when Elizabeth stops having her period and starts being queasy.  But the center of his question is him.

Mary’s question is not about her and her knowledge.  It’s about God’s activity in the world.  We might call it metaphysical, or even physical: how can this be?  What is going on in the universe, in God, in my body, that this could happen?

Where is the center of your life?  Where do your questions come from, and what do they concern?  Zechariah’s question points to himself, to his need to know, rather than to what God is up to.  Mary’s question points to God and what God is capable of, and she is open to learning about it.  She looks to find her place in what God is doing: “Let it be with me according to your word.”

I’m aware every day that I am a work in progress, a pilgrim on the way.  I know that God is up to something all the time.  But sometimes I’m more like Zechariah, catching myself up in questions about how I will know that something is of God.  I have lots of companions to help me through those questions.  But the more powerful questions come from Mary’s place, where I trust that God is speaking, I trust the angels who whisper and those who shout, those who drop me a line or give me a call.  There I’m actively on the lookout for what God is up to and how I can participate.

How will I know that this is so?  On a philosophical, logical level, never.  It’s the wrong question on that level.  But I do know through experience, through the signs of life in myself and those around me.  I know when the Holy Spirit blows through, whether it’s painful or scary or joyful.  

The real question is not, how will I know?  The real question is, will I say yes?  Will I let myself be part of God’s creation, God’s dwelling in the world?

And will you?