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Sunday
Sue Schmidt, pastor at the Salem United Church of Christ in Harrisburg PA, sent me her Christmas Eve sermon, which she says was shaped in part by Denise Levertov’s sublime poem “Annunciation.” Both Levertov and Sue focus on the human choice in accepting the divine call. It took courage on Mary’s part to do so, Levertov observes, while going on to note that we are all of us faced with comparable choices in our own lives. Sue quotes Levertov as she imagines the moment of choosing:
This was the moment no one speaks of,
when she could still refuse.A breath unbreathed,
Spirit,
suspended,
waiting.
Sue goes on to elaborate:
The angel waits, respectfully, for Mary has a choice. This is Mary’s call, Mary’s invitation to respond to. She could have said – thank you, but I don’t think so. God will have to choose someone else.
But after some time, Mary turns to the angel. “Let it be,” she says. “Let it be.”
Let it be – these aren’t passive words like some teenagers use – yeah, whatever…said with indifference. Or words of resignation. Sure, if that’s the way it has to be, let it be.
No, these are words of co-creation with the God of creation.
“All right, God, Mary says, I will do this with you. Together we will co-create the child who will show the world your love.”
“Let it be.”
After this choosing Levertov asks, “Aren’t there annunciations / of one sort or another / in most lives?” Sue makes the same point:
Tonight, as we sit surrounded by the beauty of the Christmas story, I wonder.
Has God come to you with an invitation?
Perhaps it’s a thought or longing that won’t go away. Or a new opportunity that’s been presented to you. It could even have been in a dream. And yet we wonder…
How could that happen?
I’m not able to do that!
I couldn’t be that person!
God leaves space for our questions; God stays in the conversation. “Yes, you can. I know. I’ve seen you. I know you. And I’m not asking you to do this alone.
My spirit is working in you. I am with you – isn’t that what Immanuel means?”
Sue then drives the theme home by making Mary relatable:
Mary was a regular person. You could have passed her on the road or in the supermarket and not even noticed. She could have been your daughter’s best friend, or your child’s daycare worker.
But Mary loved God. And Mary was willing to do something audacious – to create something new and beautiful and powerful with God.
Into the silence, into the question, into the improbability of it all, Mary said “Let it be.”
Here’s Levertov’s poem:
Annunciation
By Denise LevertovWe know the scene: the room, variously furnished,
almost always a lectern, a book; always
the tall lily.
Arrived on solemn grandeur of great wings,
the angelic ambassador, standing or hovering,
whom she acknowledges, a guest.But we are told of meek obedience. No one mentions
courage.
The engendering Spirit
did not enter her without consent.
God waited.She was free
to accept or to refuse, choice
integral to humanness.____________________________
Aren’t there annunciations
of one sort or another
in most lives?
Some unwillingly
undertake great destinies,
enact them in sullen pride,
uncomprehending.
More often
those moments
when roads of light and storm
open from darkness in a man or woman,
are turned away from
in dread, in a wave of weakness, in despair
and with relief.
Ordinary lives continue.
God does not smite them.
But the gates close, the pathway vanishes.______________________________
She had been a child who played, ate, slept
like any other child – but unlike others,
wept only for pity, laughed
in joy not triumph.
Compassion and intelligence
fused in her, indivisible.Called to a destiny more momentous
than any in all of Time,
she did not quail,
only asked
a simple, ‘How can this be?’
and gravely, courteously,
took to heart the angel’s reply,
perceiving instantly
the astounding ministry she was offered:to bear in her womb
Infinite weight and lightness; to carry
in hidden, finite inwardness,
nine months of Eternity; to contain
in slender vase of being,
the sum of power –
in narrow flesh,
the sum of light.
Then bring to birth,
push out into air, a Man-child
needing, like any other,
milk and love –but who was God.
This was the moment no one speaks of,
when she could still refuse.A breath unbreathed,
Spirit,
suspended,
waiting.______________________________
She did not cry, ‘I cannot. I am not worthy,’
Nor, ‘I have not the strength.’
She did not submit with gritted teeth,
raging, coerced.
Bravest of all humans,
consent illumined her.
The room filled with its light,
the lily glowed in it,
and the iridescent wings.
Consent,
courage unparalleled,
opened her utterly.