A recent insight: how many of the sacred story lines in our Advent journey to the creche mirror the narrative arc of that nail biting ‘60’s TV series Mission Impossible. “Your mission, should you choose to accept it” — Mary, accept your mission, beginning with an unimagined pregnancy; Joseph, trust in Mary and the angel who confirms Mary’s truth; Wise Men, follow that star that appears on no celestial map you know; simple shepherds, come – you are worthy of a visit to the birthsite of a King.
And in today’s Gospel selection from Luke – righteous Zechariah and Elizabeth, you who are a noble Son and a regal Daughter of Aaron, living into your namesakes of “God remembers” and “God keeps promises,” accept that the longed-for, yearned-for, deep desire to have a child is indeed heaven sent and will now be fulfilled, biological logic be damned.
Just like in the TV show, the emotions that greet these invitations to the Mission are a smorgasbord of what it means to be human: disbelief, then curiosity, confusion and bewilderment; awe and astonishment, then anticipation and hope, praise and gratitude.
Where are we on that spectrum, now that the miracle of Christmas is less than a week away? Have we said yes to annunciations coming rapid fire
our own way, if only we have the eyes and heart of faith to see – “Your mission, should you choose to accept it”.....
One of my favorite coffee table books for the season is Madeleine L’Engle’s The Glorious Impossible, richly illustrated with frescoes by Giotto. “What an amazing, what an impossible message the angel brought to a young girl!,” she writes. “And so the life of Jesus began as it would end, with the impossible…Possible things are easy to believe. The Glorious Impossibles are what bring joy to our hearts, hope to our lives, songs to our lips.”
When Jesus was a grown man he would say to his disciples, “For human beings, it is impossible. For God, nothing is impossible.” Mission accepted.