There comes a time in every
woman's pregnancy when she has to face the hard truth: she can no longer fit
into her clothes. That cute little muffin-top bulge has morphed into something
larger, firmer, rounder than her skinny jeans can accommodate. If last week was
all about the subtle hints that change is coming, we are now in the land of no
subtlety whatsoever. It is increasingly obvious to anyone with decent vision
that she is expecting.
And one of the things that
happens when a woman reaches this stage of pregnancy is that your body is no
longer your own. Friends and strangers alike feel it is just fine to pat your
baby bump, and are surprised if you pull back from their hand. Everyone - and I
mean everyone, including the bus driver, the post office clerk, and the girl
checking out your prenatal vitamins at Walgreens - has a story to tell you. It
may be about how the way you're carrying the baby means you are going to have a
girl. It may be someone's speculation that you sure are old - or young - to be having a baby - did you plan it or was
this a surprise? it may be about that person's delivery - oh, the labor was
forty-eight hours, so don't be brave and try to go without an epidural, because
you don't want to wait until it's too late to get pain relief. Suddenly your
pregnancy is not your pregnancy, it's everyone's, and they sure do want to tell
you about it!
This shouldn't be a shocker.
After all, it's been happening for eons. I wonder if Eve's daughter-in--law got
lectured by the first woman: "You think you have problems? You should have
tried delivering with no one around to help except your useless
father-in-law...and we had just been kicked out of Eden, and we didn't know squat
about having babies, except that warning from the Big Guy that it would be
labor. Labor? Hah! He didn't know the half of it."
I expect the women in Nazareth,
once they realized that Mary was pregnant, did the same thing.
And it makes sense, in a way.
Our bodies are no longer simply our own when we are pregnant. We have a
passenger on board, and we have to do all sorts of things to accommodate the
passenger's wishes. We should eat healthy, and get some exercise, but not too
much, and not be stressed (hard to do with all the stories every woman we know
is telling us), and did you know that dying your hair when pregnant is bad for
the baby? That's one of the things I heard when I was expecting...
But for Mary, it was even more
complicated. The child in her womb wasn't an ordinary child, this was the Son
of God. Nobody knew that part of the story, and for better or worse, that meant
that there was no advice that could be offered for her particular situation.
And talk about your body not
being your own! The child within was owned by the whole world. The story of the
child had been trumpeted by prophets for generations. He even had his own
personal announcer-in-chief, his cousin John, who was at this point also not
even born yet...but his task was already laid out for him - tell people that
the Messiah is coming.
This is the piece of the story
that we sometimes forget. This baby in the womb, who had not yet drawn a single
breath, was the fulfillment of a much larger story that people had been hearing
about for centuries. There were already expectations about what this child
would mean and who he would be.
An expectant mother sometimes
bristles at the suggestions that well-meaning family and friends offer about
her pregnancy and her baby. "Oh, I'll bet that baby is going to be a
quarterback just like his daddy! All the girl babies in this family are
redheads. Betcha that little one will be a doctor just like her mom." How
dare they? This is her baby! He or she will be exactly who he or she is, not
someone else's projection of who the baby should be!
But what if your child is the
fulfillment of an ancient promise, one that everyone has heard for as long as
anyone can remember? What if, when the child is kicking, you cannot help but
think "this is the Messiah who is tumbling around within me." What if
you wonder what raising such a child will be like? what if you think, "all
these ladies around the well giving me advice and snickering because I was
pregnant before Joseph married me, if they only knew the story?"
What if there is no frame of
reference for what is happening, and all you can do is roll with the passage of
the days as your belly grows larger and your heart and soul love this child
more and more?
It is clear what is happening
now. It isn't like the first trimester when it was all a secret and a mystery.
Mary, like all second trimester mothers, looks healthy and fruitful and happy
as she moves through her days. But perhaps she is already feeling the
separation. Her child, like all children, is not entirely her own. Her child,
like all children, will be born from her body and begin the long journey to
adulthood and the leaving of the family home. But unlike other children, his path is planned, has been for a long
time, in ways that most people did not fully understand, but that she senses in
the deepest part of her heart. So even now, well before the child is due to be
born, she must face the fact that it is not only her body that is not her own
anymore, her child is already not her own either. It is bittersweet, but she
knows her part. She will nurture him, birth hhim, raise him, and then let him
go. All mothers must let go, we know. But her letting go is shaded by the
knowledge that his future will be, let's say, complicated. So remember Mary
this week, in the fullness of her pregnancy, with rosy cheeks and a happy
smile, and just the faintest hint of what is to come etched on her brow.
Amen.
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1 comment:
Good sermon!
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