Yesterday was the feast of the Annunciation: “… et Verbum caro hic factum est”, meaning: “… and here the Word was made flesh!” This ‘world-changing’ event took place at the small house in Nazareth, now within the beautiful, Basilica of the Annunciation, where it is said the angel appeared to Mary, asking her to become the Mother of God. “Be it done unto me according to your word“, were the words Mary spoke, according to Luke’s Gospel, when she accepted the will of God and said “Yes” to the message of the angel. Her words are carved on the stone, below the altar, in the little house of Mary, at Nazareth.
The Altar Stone – Basilica of the Annunciation
When God became man it was nothing less than a new creation – something completely new – made by the creating power of God, who makes out of nothing, for Mary conceived by the power of the Holy Spirit. Joseph knew nothing of this and was so upset when, on another occasion, he was told that Mary was with child, he decided to “divorce her informally”. Never, in the history of all humanity, has there been such a birth as this, defying every law of nature. No wonder that, in the scripture, it says: “For God nothing is impossible”. This ‘miracle’ of creation reminds me of the Resurrection when, out of nothing, God ‘gave’ life back to Jesus – the life that had been taken away from him when dying on the Cross on Good Friday. Jesus – that baby conceived at Nazareth, when Mary said her “Yes” – was truly man, and truly God, and so, perhaps, it is the God in Jesus, that could do no other, but rise again in the humanity of Jesus?
Michaelangelo’s Creation – Sistine Chapel
Recently, I got to know a granddad, who came to see me and asked me to pray with him, because of a very serious family tragedy, concerning a grandchild. We stayed in touch. Grandma and granddad went to Rome, and when there, they thought of me and bought me a beautiful copy of the Sistine Chapel’s famous fresco, that of God creating Adam. The picture now hangs in our Priory. It shows God, depicted completely ‘alive’ with His helpers, angels and such around him, stretching out his arm towards the lifeless – but expectant – Adam. Adam is listless; there is no life at all, and fingers are just about to touch – a couple of ‘brush strokes’ showing us the dynamic – the momentous touch of God giving life to a human being. The artist, Michaelangelo, painted God’s left hand, almost embracing a ‘fearful’ angel, who looks at Adam and who seems very apprehensive and questioning: “Does God really know what he is doing? Is He aware of the tremendous risk he is taking, in creating Adam in his own image and likeness, with the ability to know, to love and to choose the direction in which to go? Does God realise – I wonder –what this will cost Him?” These are the questions that that particular figure evokes for me. Above, are much more-excited, and possibly less-experienced, younger angelic creatures who apparently cannot wait for God to create. They seem not to have thought about any consequences of God’s actions, but are just eager and ready to go right ahead in the ‘creation stakes’. All are depicted fully alive – and the energy in God – well that is like that of a million volts of electricity. Adam is completely nothing, lifeless, showing no joy, no knowledge, no will – an empty shell.
Creation out of nothing! It sets me thinking. If we have a real relationship with another person, something new is made – something that is unlike anything else in the world. It depends on one person being able to ‘let’ the other into his, or her, life and that requires ‘emptiness of self’. No two relationships are the same; how I relate to my parents is quite different to the way my brother or sister relates to them. We are all different and unique, all loved by God, all precious in God’s eyes. I wonder if relationships – so infinitely varied – are, in this sense, linked to the ‘nothingness’ from which God creates something new?
What I do know is that, very often, in order to live at peace and harmony with others, we have to empty ourselves of our own opinions and views, and let the other have his, or her, say, without imposing anything. No conditions! If I do this – and do it out of love – then, in a sense, I become nothing, and it will then become possible for the other to eventually ask the question, in an explicit or non-explicit way: “What do you think about this”. A dialogue is created that may have seemed quite impossible – ‘hope springs eternal’. There is quite a lot to learn from ‘nothingness’. St. Thérèse of Lisieux thought of herself as the ‘rag doll’ of God – a ‘doll’ that God could throw here or there – do with whatever He willed, and she remained joyful.
The feast of the Annunciation has certainly got me thinking!
