Advent Visions

December 10:  Virgin

Our annual Christmas caroling event took place Sunday afternoon.   A small crowd of us wandered down Main Street, led by two young women dressed as Mary and Joseph, along with three kids in a donkey costume (which meant it had six legs).  In the old Mexican tradition of Las Posadas, Mary and Joseph knock on doors of the village and ask for hospitality and a place to spend the night.  So we stopped at storefronts and houses asking for lodging, too.  I had to give a hint to the manager of the convenience store, to the guy at the pizza shop, and to the proprietor of the kitchen supply outfit with his two large dogs, and instruct them that they were supposed to send us away empty-handed.   They all played along, except for the attendant at the laundry who had such a big heart that she couldn't bring herself to send us off without at least a "God bless you" and a wave.    One of our traditional stops was in the grocery store, where we gathered to sing carols by the cash registers and take our annual photo of Mary holding a bottle of "Extra Virgin Olive Oil."  It is always one of the laughs of the day, along with the silliness of having the donkey's head fall off from time to time.

Ancient tradition is that Mary was "the virgin mild," whose baby turned out not to be Joseph's at all, but God's.   The truth of the matter is that the Hebrew word for "virgin" is "almah," which means only a young woman, perhaps 13 or 14 years old.  When we use the word as an adjective to describe the mother of Jesus, we think of an innocent, chosen by God for her purity.    This is not something most of us can try to achieve in our lives.   We are beyond purity, innocence.   We are sullied by the jaded world in which we live.   We have sold ourselves to unworthy causes.  We often dream ugly dreams, and suspect that others are doing so as well.  

But there is still some old innocence in me, a child who believes in goodness and who wants to love.   I would like to be chosen for a holy task, or at least a lovely one.  Advent invites me to pick up the "extra virgin oil" and offer to be Mary once in a while.

Virgin

She was confounded
by the surprise,
not at all ready to take on
a birth.
But her heart was young
and joy was in her
as she grasped the gift
laid before her.
It was her life,
given once, twice, 
a thousand times,
a miracle a day 
where love could bloom,
a rosebud for 
a stone-souled world.
Open the door,
innkeeper of my heart.
Find the place 
where the virgin still
sings.