Reposted from Journey Mama.
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Merry Christmas to our family and friends around the world. We had our big Christmas Eve party at Shekina Garden, focused on incarnation, the light of the world coming to us, and I've been taking time to think about how the evening went. It was a beautiful collaboration, with around 200 people attending, and every person in the community offering brilliance with their unique gifts: decorating, serving, cooking, singing or playing music, story-telling, and welcoming.
We've had such good feedback already from people who attended the evening of story and song. Here’s the story that I wrote for the evening. (I wrote it last year, and edited it a bit for this year.)
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Part 1
Mary was born in troubled times. Years ago, when her grandfather was a boy, Rome had overcome Jerusalem and occupied all of Israel and Judea. There were terrible stories of that time, and even now, the land seethed with danger. The Romans had installed Herod as King, and Herod did not care for his people. There were so many things to remember to stay safe. Mary's mother told her to keep her head down and never walk alone. Mary had a sick feeling in her stomach if she came upon a group of soldiers standing on a corner in their red and silver uniforms. Even if she walked with her uncle or her father, she felt afraid. It was too easy for something to go wrong. She had seen a man beaten just for walking too close to the soldiers.
Her village felt like the sea, one thing on the surface, and so much beneath the water. Every family felt differently about the occupation. Some people ran willingly into the arms of idol worshipers, her father said. Some resisted and moved into caves in the wilderness, to make grand plans of rescue. And some kept their heads down, waiting, always waiting for the one who would come to set them free to celebrate the feasts. Last year Herod had canceled Passover in Jerusalem, a thing of great sorrow. Mary's father had wept for hours, sitting on the floor with his tallit over his head.
Her parents often warned her about walking after dark.
"If it is too late to get home before sunset," they said, "stay where you are. Send a boy to tell us. We don't want you walking at night. It's not safe with the soldiers everywhere."
So it was dangerous, but there were beautiful parts in Mary's life in the village. Meals at the family hearth, goat milk with spices in the evenings. Her family had a flock of goats, and Mary loved the feeling she got when she went out to call the goats home, and the whole world was bathed in golden light. There were moments that nearly called her heart out of her body: the shadows over the low hills, the smell of plants crushed under her feet. She got the urge to run, and sometimes she did, chasing the baby goats until it was time to bring them all home.
She wondered if she would feel the same freedom when she married Joseph. She had been promised to him for a long time. Sometimes, when he came to visit her father, she peeked at him from under her veil. He had a kind face, with curly black hair and skin just a shade lighter than her own dark brown skin. There was gray in his beard, though. When Mary mentioned the gray beard, her mother frowned.
"You are blessed by Adonai, Mary. Joseph isn't that old! It is only that he has been taxed as we all have. Times are hard for us. We have to give most of everything we earn away." Then she would sigh or cry, and Mary would sneak out to look at the stars outside the door.
Mary didn't want to think about the taxes, the occupation, or King Herod. She wanted to think about the stories of Adonai making the world. How did he do it? she wondered. She wasn't often allowed to sit and listen when the men talked about such things. But she sat and looked at the stars and thought, and thought, and thought about it. Especially on mornings when it seemed that the world was exploding with light and color. How did he do it? And having made such a lot of beauty, did he ever think about her?
One night she took too long, bringing the goats back. Her mother had been crying, again, about how much of their grain Herod's tax collectors had demanded, and Mary felt that if she could run along the hillsides, she could outrun all of it.
But the sun fell behind the mountain before she knew it, and the world was suddenly darkened. Heart beating, she gathered the goats and urged them through the pasture and into the yard. When she got them to the animal hut, her heart was in her throat. Everything she had ever heard about darkness and danger came back to her. She pushed the goats through and went inside to pour their water.
She nearly screamed when she saw the… man standing there. Was it a man? He was so tall that his head brushed the rafters, and his skin was dark like a night without a moon, a darker, bluer black than she had ever before seen, but his skin seemed lit with silver light where her lantern shone on his hands and face.
"Elohim sees you, young sister," he said. "The Lord has seen you and knows how beautiful your heart is. He has chosen you."
She stared at him. "He knows who I am?" she whispered.
"Don't be scared," he answered. "You can come closer if you want."
"Where are you from? Do you have a name?" she asked.
"From the sky," he told her. "My name is Gabriel. And I'm here to tell you that Adonai sees you and is giving you a gift beyond your imagination. You are going to have a baby and you will call him Jesus. He will be the son of the Most High and will be a king like David, and he will reign over the house of Jacob forever, and of his kingdom, there will be no end."
"I'm sorry," Mary said. "What? When? When is this supposed to be? I'm not even married yet."
The man smiled. "This won't happen in any kind of ordinary way. The Spirit of God will come to you and the power of the Most High will surround you. The baby will be the Son of God."
Mary blinked. She looked down at herself, her small hands and bare feet, her completely ordinary body, her tunic flapping around in some strange wind. She had asked if God saw her. He had answered. The wind tugged at her hair, and she felt a strange, sudden joy. The angel smiled at her again.
"I have only ever wanted to serve the Most High," Mary whispered. "I am willing. Let it be to me as you say."
The tall, tall man stooped to leave the barn, touching her on the shoulder as he did so, and she felt courage cover her like a warm blanket.
