Thoughts on Advent and Pregnancy

My daughter Sophia was born in July 2001. That fall, and the following year, my perspective on the world, on my place in it, and my nation and government, were totally in upheaval. I was fearful, worried, anxious about the future. There was no way I was going to bring another child into this world, not until I knew things would be ok for them. There were even moments in a post-partum haze when I regretted giving birth the first time. Christmas was pretty hollow to me that year, and the following.

This feeling of wanting to control the fates of my child, of potential later children, was strong for a long time. And then last Advent, I was caught unprepared. I was sitting under that window, back beyond where the choir sits, that shows Mary arriving at Elizabeth’s house. Mary said yes to the angel. Mary let go and trusted.

Not only was she quite young, still living at home, and she was technically married but not even old enough to move in with Joseph—betrothed is the word, not only all that, but she was visited by an angel who told her this would happen to her. While angels appear with some regularity in the Bible, nobody I know has ever been visited by an angel. I can probably guess that nobody Mary knew had ever been visited by an angel either—well, Elizabeth’s husband Zechariah has, but since the angel struck him mute until John is born, he can’t tell anybody about it yet at this stage. When the shepherds are visited by angels on Christmas night, they are very much afraid. Zechariah is greeted with a “Do not be frightened”—Mary was probably more than “deeply troubled” as Luke puts it, when Gabriel comes to call.

But she said yes. She couldn’t have known what she was in for, the joy, grief, pain, love, that being the mother of Jesus would bring her. Luke is understated there too—Mary treasured all these things and reflected on them in her heart. No mother, I think, knows what she’s in for. Will her child get sick, will she live to see them graduate from high school, will this child be good, be smart, be a burden, will he leave home and live in the desert eating honey and locusts, will this child be happy, will he make her happy, will he die before his time, will he be murdered by the state, will they have to flee to another country in order to save his life? It’s too much to take in, to consider. But she trusts.

There is no perfect moment in which to conceive or give birth. There are no perfect situations, times, circumstances. What is of concern when you get pregnant is nine-moth-old news by the time the baby arrives. It is always a gamble. It is always a leap of faith.

And so I stopped trying to control. Maybe another baby was just what my world needed. And, like some sort of reverse prayer, not asking for something from God, but taking what might come, I was pregnant within a month.

There I was, full of baby, full of doubt and hope and joy, maybe a little grace. Just like this season.

We see Mary pregnant for 4 weeks of Advent. It’s really 10 times that long, and that isn’t an exaggeration—typical pregnancies are 40 weeks, not 4. Mary had a long time to think about what the angel said. Why did I say yes? may have crossed her mind at some point while she couldn’t sleep due to third trimester insomnia or some other strange symptom pregnancy brings on. But more often, at least from my own experience, she had a long time to be completely fascinated by the changes she was going through physically and emotionally.

She had a long time to worry about what Joseph was going to do. Matthew shows a worried and betrayed Joseph, debating about what he should do about his pregnant wife-to-be. According to Jewish law, he had the right to divorce her, and the society had the right to stone her to death. Mary would have known this might happen.

And then she had a long time to thank God for her stand up guy. She wasn’t publicly disgraced and stoned to death, she wasn’t even quietly divorced and sent away to fend for herself, which is what Matthew portrays as Joseph’s first plan. He takes her in. He pledges to raise her child.

Of course, the first thing we see Mary do after the angel leaves her is run away, to her kinswoman Elizabeth’s house. Luke says that she set out, proceeding in haste into the hill country. Was she running to Elizabeth to see if it was so, if Gabriel had really told her the truth? Was she afraid? Excited? Was she looking to prove to herself that she wasn’t crazy? Had she talked to Joseph before she ran off? Did she talk with her family? We don’t know. All we know is that she left in haste. Perhaps in fear.

When she reaches there, as we all know, the baby Elizabeth is carrying leaps for joy in her womb. Elizabeth is filled with the Holy Spirit. And she asks Mary why she has come to visit, why her, why now? Who am I that the mother of my Lord should come to me?

Mary answers with the Magnificat. She began her journey to Elizabeth’s in haste, perhaps in fear, for her life, for her future. But by the time she arrives, and Elizabeth greets her, she knows, she trusts, she seems almost relieved: My being proclaims the greatness of the Lord, my spirit finds joy in God my savior…for he has looked upon his servant in her lowliness; all ages to come shall call me blessed. God who is mighty has done great things for me, holy is his name. Instead of running away to Elizabeth, which may or may not have been her first plan, she arrives there announcing the kingdom of heaven: he has deposed the mighty from their thrones and raised the lowly to high places. The hungry he has given every good thing while the rich he has sent empty away.

We watch during Advent as some things work out for Mary, and some don’t go the way anybody would want. She and Joseph do marry. He trusts God too. She isn’t stoned to death as an adulteress. She has a son, they both survive the birth, which, given the times and circumstances, is no small feat. Shepherds and astrologers come to visit. There’s this star…of course, she walks 65 miles from Nazareth to Bethlehem. She gives birth in a stable, or maybe a shed or cave, some sort of minimal shelter for livestock. Later she has to move to Egypt to keep Herod from killing her toddler. No matter how much she could have prepared, she couldn’t have been very ready for those things, good or bad. But she trusted.

Advent is full of ups and downs as well. Just as there is no perfect birth situation, no easy breezy pregnancy (no matter what your mother or best friend told you), there is no perfect Christmas season or Christmas. There are relatives you don’t want to deal with but know you have the obligation to do so. You spend too much money even though you said you wouldn’t. The divinity doesn’t set up and you know your mother is going to blame it on your lack of moral fiber instead of the humidity in your kitchen. On the other hand, the lights are beautiful this year, your kids come home and spend time with you, people really seem to enjoy your sugar cookies, your mother in law tells you how glad she is you made the trip. There will probably be moments to treasure and reflect on in your heart.

We can be filled with joy or anxiety about this season, but, just like once you’re pregnant, birth is the inevitable result. We can try to orchestrate every moment, every party, every fruitcake baking session, but in the end, it’s not about that. It’s about a young woman, and her uneasy betrothed, who trusted that God would come through on his promise. Keep in mind that they did walk 65 miles and gave birth to a baby alone in a barn to help that promise to fulfillment. God didn’t do it alone.

God doesn’t change our hearts or bring stillness and peace to the world alone either. Human action is required. We must prepare, we must listen, pray, engage our senses in the Advent season if we are to fully participate in its joy. But most of all, we must trust that Jesus is coming, that he seeks us out, he needs us to help bring his promises to fulfillment.

Elizabeth’s words to Mary are well known in the Hail Mary, but one sentence doesn’t get heard as often, and I thought I would close with her words. Blest is she who trusted that the Lord’s words to her would be fulfilled.