Honored

Have you ever felt overwhelmed and honored by an opportunity that's presented to you? This Sunday, I felt that to an amazing degree: my parish priest asked if I would be interested in preaching for our upcoming Lessons and Carols service. The service by itself would be a big deal, coming as it does at such an important time in the liturgical year. But this service is extra-special because it's ecumenical -- members of all the local churches have been invited to attend. We're raising money for the charity Agape, and last year there was a really great turnout. By which I mean the church was full.

And now it looks like I'll get to preach at it.

It isn't like I'm not humbled and overwhelmed every time I get asked to preach. I am. I'm grateful and excited for every opportunity. And it isn't that I've never preached at a 'big' event before: I've done a baptism, Back to Church Sunday, and the service for the ACW of the deanery. But this is totally, completely a big deal, and certainly the most important event I've been asked to speak at.

First thought that went through my head? Terror.

Second thought? Yep, I'm terrified. And the priest is insisting I don't have to do it and he doesn't want to pressure me. But there's no freaking way I'm giving up this opportunity just because of a little fear.

I wonder if maybe that wasn't something like what Mary felt when the angel appeared to her and asked her to bear God's child?

I know, I'm being awfully presumptuous by comparing myself to the Virgin Mother. Obviously the situations are nothing alike. But still, I think that our everyday experiences give us insight into the miracle of God's work in the world, let us see intimately into the mystery of the Incarnation and the love God has for us.

She must have felt terror when he told her. She must have felt fear, and overwhelming awe, and humility that she was even being asked, even as he told her it was okay to say no. But in the midst of her fear, her uncertainty, her feeling that she couldn't possibly ever be enough, she reached out and grabbed that opportunity. She said yes: "Behold, the handmaid of the Lord; be it unto me according to thy word" (Lk 1:38).

When the Church talks about Mary, it is most often about her humility, her acceptance of the will of God. The way she is a good and faithful woman. But we don't talk nearly enough about her courage. Mary was a very brave woman. She said yes even in the face of fear and uncertainty. She didn't give in to God, the way someone gives in to a powerful demand because they cannot resist it. She grabbed hold, with both hands -- she said yes 'come what may.'

Mary the brave one, Mary of the strong heart. Mary who asks her son to perform his first miracle at the wedding feast in Cana, Mary who follows her son to the Cross, Mary who wraps and perfumes his body and lays it in the tomb. Mary who waits with the Apostles for the Spirit to come.

Mary who says yes to an angel and carries her beloved son inside her, her past and future wrapped up in these precarious moments, as precious, fragile, and uncertain as a newborn wrapped in swaddling clothes.

We can all learn a lot from Mary. She teaches us that fear is not something that needs to hold us back, that we can and must push through it if we want to realize God's purpose in our lives. We must not let fear stop us from grasping and cherishing the moments of our lives. As we keep these things treasured in our hearts, to ponder and wonder at them, we must nevertheless go through the uncertainty, through the doubt, and through the fear with humility and courage.

Humility and courage. Doubt and fear and overwhelming uncertainty are normal parts of our lives, and we are not meant to be ashamed of them. What we are meant to do is take hold of the moment in spite of them, and let God do the rest.