A Lenten Devotion

She did not cry, ‘I cannot. I am not worthy,’

Nor, ‘I have not the strength.’…

The room filled with its light,

the lily glowed in it,

and the iridescent wings.

Consent,

courage unparalleled,

opened her utterly.

—Denise Levertov (from “Annunciation”)

 

 

All religion is, at its root, counter-cultural. It demands we act according to a vision of reality that is contrary to the domination, acquisition, and fear that governs so much of human life. That we are called into the world to act well is obvious, but perhaps at this moment, so redolent with destructive possibilities, this annunciation is especially urgent. As we face down disaster, Mary, God-bearer, is our guide and model.

Mary is distressed: her call appears as from nowhere and is addressed to an almost perfectly unsuitable candidate – unmarried, young, inhabitant of a war-torn and colonized land – a woman of no standing. And yet she acts with decisive courage. What preceded this luminous moment that invisibly, silently prepared her for the cataclysmic “yes” that opened history to this particular Incarnation? This is the question that must haunt us. Our real decisions  arise in us long before the moment we act. We have already unconsciously filtered what we will see and what we will count as relevant. This is why religious practice is essential to our spiritual hygiene. Whether it is worship, meditation, prayer, yoga, gardening, hiking, street ministry, song, art –religious practice works not only on what we believe and do, but who we are; it determines what we experience as important. To act well, we must have already been pierced by the sacred worth of every person, culture, patch of moss, coral reef, parched creek. We must have learned to delight in the beauty of beings and to be martyred by their suffering – and we must forbid one to cancel out the other. “Utterly opened,” we dwell more deeply in joy and lament, eros and kenosis. Like Mary, we learn to love and grieve, withholding kindness and justice from not one single being – our actions arising as spontaneously as a mother adoring her child.

 

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“Arise My Fair One”: Thoughts On Radical Compassion and Contemplation in the Work Against Racism