Waiting on God

On Monday 8 April we celebrate the moment when Mary received the message she had been chosen to be the Mother of God. It’s a feast we call ‘The Annunciation of the Lord.’  It’s usually celebrated on March 25th but this year was transferred because it fell during Passiontide. As we celebrate Mary’s attentiveness to God, we reflect on what it means to wait on God.

---

Across the country there’s a shortage in social housing. Politicians make promises but private investment often takes precedence, which means that those with little money have little hope of having their own place to call home and are left on an increasingly growing waiting list.

Mary’s Home

The home of Mary in Nazareth would be almost unrecognisable from those we build in Britain today. Nestled into rock with a brick extension butting out, and shared common facilities, it was a place she called home, a place she shared with others, where she welcomed others.

Perhaps, at times, despite such overcrowded conditions, she could be alone and quite at home there. Maybe it was one of those quieter days when Mary’s alertness to God was deepened, when she experienced a memorable encounter, a time of change.

A day in the life of…

Today, we have Luke’s written witness, an insight into Mary’s life that day, a peek through the keyhole, a glimpse into her heart.

Some time ago, there was a photograph on someone’s Social Media feed, featuring the image of Our Lady of Walsingham in the Roman Catholic Shrine’s Slipper Chapel.  There was a sign next to the image requesting that people do not to touch the image, for the statue was alarmed.

Mary was alarmed.

Meanwhile, back in Nazareth, we know that Mary had questions for the angel. She grappled with the message, her whole life shaken, the angel reassuring her, “Do not be afraid.”  Mary has learned to be at home with God, and to welcome him not just into her home but into the whole of her life, into her heart.

In the Orthodox Tradition of the Annunciation the encounter is more drawn out, given more depth. It begins as she draws water from the well,  So easily could she be distracted, and yet she senses God’s presence even in the midst of everyday jobs. In her arms she carries water. In her heart she carries Christ back to her home.

Rising and resting

Yes, she is alert to God in walking and stillness, in work and play, in rising and resting. Through those moments of attentiveness to God in her work and in her busyness, she herself becomes a home for Christ.

For nine months, the whole of her being becomes aware of the presence of God, kicking and moving and growing within her. And what of our home?

Our house

Maybe our own home is too full, too busy at times, or maybe it feels empty, lonely, too still, too silent.  For some, home may be uncomfortable, full of tension and frayed relationships, filled with memories, too much to take, not homely at all.

“Do not be afraid,” the Angel said to Mary.

And what of the house of the church with its altar shaped heart and a tabernacle full of treasure? In the Eucharist, Christ comes to dwell with us, feeding us and filling our lives with his love.

Perhaps we too are on a Waiting List. Waiting for things to happen, anxious to see things move on, to have things change for us, for others, wanting something different, something new, something to change.

We wait on God, try to learn the art of being attentive to him, being at home with him, as he comes to make his home with us.

You can read the account of the Annunciation in Luke 1:26-28