Beginnings

I used to think on Mary only around Christmas time. To be sure, when it comes to the arrival of our Lord on earth, she is impossible to ignore. But I have thought of her lately for other reasons altogether.

I suppose it's only natural I should think of Mary as I've undertaken my study of the Catholic faith. Even before I began to understand what her special significance was in the Catholic church, I began to look to her example.

And then I let my imagination do a little wandering.

Nothing is said of how the community around her responded to her pregnancy. Imagine if you will a teenage girl, a betrothed virgin, belly swelling with pregnancy. Oh sure, some would say. An angelic visitor? The Son of God? Pshaw! Did some think her the ancient middle-eastern equivalent of Hester Prynne, an adulterous woman unwilling to call out the true father of the child within her?

What did the neighbors think? What were the temple priests saying? People would be incredulous, naturally. They were expecting a political hero, a conquering king for a Messiah. Not a squealing infant. Who besides Elizabeth and Zechariah, I wonder, believed the story of her angelic visitation?

Imagine the secret whispers, the sideways glances of those around her. Imagine the consequences a woman believed guilty of adultery would face. And still she was able to say, my soul doth magnify the LORD (Luke 1:46). I imagine she knew the manifold social and religious implications her mysterious pregnancy held. I imagine she came to know only too well the cost of obedience.

While I may in no way compare myself to the Blessed Mother, I look to her as an example. Though the text is not explicit, I have to believe that her obedience cost her more than we know. When the story of the Immaculate Conception circulated, I can only hypothesize as to what people thought of her, what they whispered about her as she walked past them. I imagine some thought her a liar, or just plain crazy, concocting stories of angelic visitations and the whole Holy-Spirit-coming-upon-you and power-of-the-Most-High-overshadowing-you thing (Luke 1:35). I imagine some were compelled to collect stones.

But she remained obedient in spite of what was likely a prevailing sense of disbelief and outright obstinacy that God would choose such humble and entirely unexpected means to redeem His people.

So I endeavor to adopt the same attitude here, if even in its smallest portion. I know some will think I've gone off the deep end. I know not everyone will approve or understand. But obedience comes with a cost; that much is promised us. And so I find myself compelled by the truth God has revealed, pulled to a new place in my journey of faith. I certainly did not expect it.

But isn't it just like God to do that?

[if you're just getting started, click here, here, and here to see where the journey began ...]