The Catacombs Paintings:Icon Mary by Greg Trinker |
And then the Holy Spirit whispered into my spirit on the second blup blup sound of my Mac increasing its volume. I'm tuning out the world of teenagers because they're interfering with my ideal environment. A couple of sophomore girls and a young lad were a nuisance in my mind. I didn't see them as my brother and sisters. I turned them into competition.
Only the guidance of the Holy Spirit kept me from maxing out the volume bar so that I could hear nothing but the King's College Choir in my safe, protected Advent environment. I stopped after that second blup and heard the Lord assure me that I needed both sounds in my ears. One sound should not drown out another in this place. There should be no opposition here, no competition. The sound of praise and the sound of angst belong in the ears of an attentive Christian watching for the coming Christ.
I realized today that I'm not only looking for the coming of Christ this Advent. As I listened to the climbing rhapsody of Ave Maria I realized that I'm looking for his Mother, too. I'm not naive about the girls carrying on their conversation across the room from me either. I wasn't listening to the blow by blow events, but it was obvious that there was an absence of an humble, reverent spirit in the tone and manner of their conversation. Nothing about them would remind me of the Holy Virgin. But perhaps the heart of Mary is not absent, but hidden and concealed within these girls. Perhaps it's been beaten down by the harshness of a high school world that can be downright cruel. Maybe underneath the melodrama there is fear and pain. How ironic that I was trying to drown out Mean Girl drama with a beautiful hymn revering Mary's role in the drama of the Incarnation. The Spirit has revealed spiritual blindness to me this Advent season and today he revealed my spiritual deafness--and a willing deafness at that.
Yet in the midst of my snobbish irritation in the back corner of Mojoe's, I felt the tenderness of the Spirit open the way of repentance. I learned to pray for these girls. With hymns of holy reverence for the Virgin Mother, my ears were unstopped, my eyes were opened to see, and my lips were opened to pray for holiness in the midst of West High drama. From the cross, Mary's crucified Son looked at John and said, "behold your mother." Somehow in the mystery of communing with the saints, with the memory of Mary in my ears, I heard the Spirit say, "behold your sisters." Yes, I am no different from you, my sisters. You in your melodrama and me in my arrogant spirit, both of us irritated in our souls. We all need the ancient drama written on our hearts anew: of Jesus Christ, conceived by the Holy Spirit, born of the Virgin Mary. Ave Maria, pray for us all.
Beautifully written and poignantly true. Thanks, Jack.
ReplyDeleteWords often seem like mallets used for brain surgery, but in the hands of a poet-theologian they can become scalpels for the cure of souls: first the slicing of repentance, then the healing of grace. Thank you for these beautiful words.
ReplyDeleteJack, you echo my heart for young people with this post. So often we drown out whatever it is we don't want to hear with something more 'favourable' - whatever the season. But the groaning of this generation is a sound we have silenced too often and hearing their voices in the midst of the Advent Antiphons is a great visual and musical picture for me of what this season of waiting, preparation and expectancy could be about. And it won't be long before our girls and my boy will be those high school students...glory! If only we had those ears, tuned in to hear and I'm praying for that to continue to resonate through the years as we prepare to be parents to teenagers. I am glad that you had that afternoon to yourself; space, solitude, an opportunity to think and pray and for Holy Spirit to break in and prompt you. Thanks for writing and be blessed...x
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