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Friday, December 11, 2009
Advent Musing -- Day 13
When I was a junior in high school, one of my friends became pregnant. She was a year younger than I and unmarried. Her problem was the talk of our church.
In the youth group of my church -- and by the way, my father was the pastor -- I made an impassioned speech, asking everyone to stop gossiping about her. I can remember telling my group how important it was for us to love this friend, and then I made the bold suggestion that perhaps if we did a better job dealing with such matters, we wouldn't have such a problem with teen pregnancies. I think I even called for a more "creative" way of dealing with the problem of sex.
Looking back at how young I was, I wonder what I thought I was talking about at the time. Now--from the perspective of many years later-- I know what I meant, even if the ideas were still deep down in my unconscious, waiting for life to bring them more fully-formed to my conscious mind.
The year was 1962 and conversations about unwed mothers, abstinence, teen pregnancies and doing a "better job of dealing with such matters" was not part of ordinary conversations. In fact, it's pretty amazing to think about how poorly and pitifully we talked about anything related to human sexuality. I'm pretty sure that at the tender age of seventeen I was talking about a healthier way of dealing with the powerful force of sexuality than pretending it didn't exist or acting as if it were something shameful.
I've often wondered if my dad caught any flak about my bold assertions in the youth group or if I caused him any problems with the deacons. I can't imagine that someone didn't rush to tattle on me. That didn't happen a lot, but it happened enough that I learned early to conform to the rules of my world.
In subsequent years I've often pondered the plight of Mary the mother of Jesus. Mary probably didn't have a church youth group, but she had grown up in a religious culture that had rigid laws and set punishment for those who broke those laws. I've wondered if the neighbors gossiped about her and I've wondered if anyone came to her defense. I've wondered how she handled her inevitable fears and the responses of those who might have talked badly about her.
When I think about that moment when Mary told her mother about her pregnancy, I tremble. I hope that perhaps her mother, too, had a dream like Joseph's, and maybe her father, as well. I hope that there were people around her -- friends, cousins, an aunt -- who were able to see beneath the surface of things to a deeper meaning in what could have been a scandalous situation. I've wondered if perhaps she fled to Elizabeth her cousin to get away from the scorn of others. That Elizabeth resonated with the significance of Mary's pregnancy must have been soothing balm and tender mercy for Mary.
We talk about the Ten Commandments, and when we do I always think about how God asked this young Jewish girl to put herself in the position of being censured and shunned, at the least, and even stoned to death because of the perception that she was breaking the law.
What was God up to, seemingly breaking his own rules to accomplish something so grand?
What was he doing, asking this young girl to put herself in the position of appearing to be scandalized by breaking the laws of her people?
Later, Jesus scandalized the religious culture of his day and turned the values of his day upside down, eating with prostitutes, touching the unclean, lifting up the downtroddent and making friends with women. He befriended the lowly, the outcast, the littlest and the least, and whenever the woman caught in adultery was brought to him, he dealt with her with unusual sensitivity, compassion and forgiveness. I've wondered if Jesus' compassion was born out of a memory of hearing stories of his mother's plight.
God can and does work with us in ways that befuddle our mind-sets, upend our values systems, challenge our most treasured beliefs and turn us inside-out and upside down. God does what God pleases, it seems, and if that means breaking the laws for a higher purpose, God does it.
I still hope that somehow, Mary had advocates and supporters. And I hope her mother had had a dream, too, a dream that gave her what she needed to face her neighbors and relatives. What happened to Mary also happened to her family, didn't it?
What about you? Have you ever broken a law for a higher purpose?
Have you ever had your values challenged by a higher value?
Have you ever seen grace triumph over judgement?
Have you ever chosen love over the law?
Grace.....to you -- Jeanie
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