It's time to change gear. The liturgy invites me to increase my attention to the Good News. The time is nearer: Christ's coming is closer than I think.
One part of my brain just panicked: Christmas is so close and I still have cards to mail and gifts to buy. Yet, the other part seems to be rejoicing because I have been trodding the Advent path for a month and now I am ready to say Yes to the "Word-Made-Flesh," Immanuel who comes to me.
The liturgy today invites me to enter into the "impossible things" that God can do, things that the angel told Mary in yesterday's liturgy. Both readings highlight this reality: God uses my own limitations and shortcomings and transforms them into something new. I see the pattern: Both Samson's and John's parents cannot have a child: barren, old age... impossible! Yet, God uses what seems impossible and unusable by our own earthly standards and lifts them up as instruments of Christ's coming.
How many times I have said that something was impossible to be done because the "structures" (manpower, money, lack of volunteers, etc.) were not up to the task? And how many times I have been blown away by the results? The difference? One group relied completely on God and He used their "Yes" to make something beautiful. I want and I need to keep this in mind: if I believe that God is with me then I ought to remain focused on the fact that only He can do the impossible; all that is required of me is to say "Yes, let it be done to me according to your word."
I can't help noticing that the story of Zachariah happens in the Temple. Yesterday I meditated on the fact that Mary was visited by the angel in her own home. This story seems to be going in the opposite direction than that of Mary. Why? Both Mary and Zachariah expressed doubt at what the angel was telling them. But it is Mary that takes the further step and moves forward in faith, putting all her trust in the Word of God.
When I fail to take that step, I too experience a sort of spiritual "mutism." I focus on what I think it's the right thing to do, on what I think it's the right thing to say and I get dry, I realize there is nothing to say and nothing I do or say seem to bring fruit. It's the Zachariah's syndrome. Unlike him, I don't have to wait nine month to shake this off - I can ask God for forgiveness and start again by making Mary's "fiat" ("Yes, let it be done....") as my own.
But I feel Zachariah's words: How can I know this? I want to know what is ahead, I want to plan and be ready. I understand this is not always possible and I am learning, formed by the Gospel, to say Yes. I found this quote of Teillhard de Chardin: "What really matters is to adhere to the divine action that can be found everywhere; the more we submit to Him our destiny, by subtracting our planning and our control, the worthier it is of adoration." (my translation)
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