Becky in front of H.D. Tanner The Annunciation
Photo by Matt August 2010
The bright light on the left side of the painting was the first thing that caught my eye as I entered the room. There was something hinting of the divine in it. I walked over for a closer look, and then I saw her. She was sitting on her bed, the look on her face was priceless. H.D. Tanner had nailed it.
I had taken the train into Philly. I love to ride trains. I’m thinking about taking a train all the way to Seattle, but Matt says that’s crazy. (Crazy never stopped me before.) I love the rhythm, the swaying, and seeing a view of the countryside you don’t get from the road. Every once in a while I get to take a field trip by myself, and living in walking distance from the unmanned train station in Elizabethtown gives me lots of options. This day, my destination was The Philadelphia Museum of Art. I had everything I needed in my pseudo backpack—camera, journal, bible, pencil and sharpener, mp3 player, snack, and a little cash. The sun was shining for the first time in days and I was in love with the moment.
I didn’t really have much of a plan. I’m not much into plans right now. I did know the museum was in walking distance from the Amtrak station, and as they say in Brazil, quem tem boca vai a Roma. It means whoever has a mouth gets to Rome. (Which means if you can talk you can find your way anywhere.) So I made my way with a bit of help. I LOVE cities. Have I ever mentioned that? The sights, the smells, the colors, the people--so many stories happening in front of you at every moment…I could go on, but this is an unnecessary rabbit trail.
I decided to just wander around the museum and take it all in. It was only about 20 minutes into my wanderings that I saw L’Annunciation. I stayed with it for a little while, but knew I needed more. Henri Nouwen wrote The Return of the Prodigal Son after he had spent hours reflecting on Rembrant’s painting. I thought if I spent an hour maybe I could come away with a decent journal entry at the very least. So I decided to walk the rest of the museum, have something to eat, and then come back. There was a bench directly before the painting, so I sat down (thankfully the museum was fairly empty that day) and pulled out journal, pencil, and Bible.
I turned to Luke 1:26-38 and soaked it in a bit. Then I looked at Mary. I was mesmerized by her face. It was, as the NLT says, “confused and disturbed.” Yet her posture looked receptive, submissive—like she was agreeing to bear a great burden. Or was it, as the angel said, a blessing? It all seemed so bizarre and yet undeniably real. She seemed to me like she was trying to get her bearings…desperately wanting to be obedient to God and yet incredibly disoriented. “Favored woman…you will conceive and give birth to a son…the Lord God will give him the throne of his ancestor David.” Can you imagine the honor of receiving such words from God? She must have struggled to grasp their meaning, to feel the deep blessing of such words, and receive them in truth without pride or false humility creeping in. The next moment she must have realized that she could never tell others what she had heard--the act of telling would render her unbelievable. The great spiritual blessing which would open up in her physical body would also bring great trial and suffering. But in the midst of all this there was this comfort. “The Lord is with you.” There was the promise of Emanuel.
I have many thoughts about Mary. But what spoke loudest to me through my time with L’Annunciation are these. Elizabeth says it best. “Blessed is she who has believed that what the Lord has said to her will be accomplished.”
It doesn’t say Mary was blessed because she consulted the priest, her parents, her psychologist, or Joseph. It doesn’t say Mary asked for further proof so that she would know it was God and not Satan masquerading as God trying to trick her. It doesn’t say Mary was blessed because she figured out how it was all going to work out, and since it made sense…she believed.
Mary said, “May it be to me as you have said.” Not passivity--meekness. It would take great strength and great humility to walk this path placed before her. And in every way, God went before her to make His word come to pass. He gave her a haven in Elizabeth. He showed up to Joseph. He guided every step of Jesus birth to align with the prophecies that had been spoken.
But how? Did God orchestrate everyone’s choices and responses ahead of time, or did He work along with human decision to bring about His will through their human decisions or even despite them? I don’t know. I have more questions than answers.
I know this--the angel said something really important. “Nothing is impossible with God.” It’s important in this particular situation, but it is also a connection to another woman who was promised a child. Her name was Sarah. “Is anything too hard for the Lord? I will return about this time next year, and Sarah will have a son.” (Gen.18:14)
I think the angel is reminding Mary, what God did for Sarah, He will do for you.
I packed up my belongings and headed outside to see Joan of Arc riding to victory on her horse in the middle of a busy intersection of Philadelphia streets. Another girl who believed nothing was impossible with God. Her greatest victory was her death. I wonder what mine will be.
Originally Posted on Deep Calls
June 23, 2008
