Mary held all these things and pondered them in her heart...

This week, while basking in the joy of being with family after the storms created an unexpected reunion for Christmas, I am thinking about both the 12 days of Christmas and the gospel text for this coming Sunday: January 1, 2023. The essence of the gospel from St. Luke 2 is: "Mary held all these things and pondered them in her heart." So, I am going to share some of my ponderings shaped by her spirit and presence. Reading the reflection from Richard Rohr this morning was a serendipitous affirmation:

The ego loves to use words, but the primary way we communicate “the reign of God is at hand” is by our presence. Jesus clearly modeled this. It seems that Jesus and his disciples took up residence in people’s homes and lived as closely as possible to the people. In their ministry, healing and preaching are so intertwined that we could say that there has been no real proclaiming of the kingdom, no authentic conversion, unless there is healing in some real sense. Understandably, many of us have come to rely on an impersonal medium like the printed word. But the only way words can have any effect on our lives is if a person is coming across through this medium. When I am preaching, teaching, or writing, I have to try to give myself away; I have to let others encounter me in some real way. That’s the only experience that will make any of my words halfway believable. Jesus gave us words, but more significantly, he gave his “flesh” for the life of the world—in the way he lived and the way he died.

To say that my journey in faith began by loving the ideas, concepts, and words of the tradition - the hymns, chants, and liturgies - only to slowly relinquish and replace their "authority" for the messier but more satisfying reality of relationships merely hints at this inner revolution. There were times when I did not know how to celebrate real love because, for a time, these loves seemed beyond the confines of orthodoxy. The heartbreak of these encounters, however, taught me to keep letting go of the words and replace them with simple acts of compassion and solidarity. I can't help but think that Mary faced her own reckoing with the way love overthrows words, abstractions, and even orthodoxies. For now, I'm just going to play with the little ones. When they head home, I'll try to outline my reflection so that we enter the New Year grounded in grace.