Here Am I

Mary stopped. There it was, again. “Mary” it said. Slightly louder than the last time. Or, it was quieter here. Less noisy. But, maybe louder. OK, louder. Definitely, it was louder. For – several days now, a few times a day. Mary counted back. Today is [the Hebrew word for Wednesday]. It was – [the Hebrew word for Monday] night. Very low. Could barely hear it. Oh! Maybe it was going on for longer? And I just couldn’t hear it? Mary considered that, and while she was thinking these things, kind of over and over in her mind, starting with ‘how loud’ and moving on to ‘when’, and then back again; the room, it was the inner room of the house, became very still indeed. Whatever makes noise in a house, the kind of low background living hum, quit making any noise whatsoever. Mary, already stopped, let herself be very still. “Be still,” a thought said, echoing her body. Mary just let her mind go blank, and listened to the very, very quiet…

“Mary” it said again. Mary just listened… and… feeling the emptiness of the house, and filled with an urge to respond, she spoke aloud amidst the heavy stillness of the room: “Here am I.” Not the Hebrew “here I am,” the response of the spouse or friend, but the Hebrew “Here am I,” the response of the child or servant, hearing a summons, or a command. The intense quiet of the room absorbed her words. Here am I...

The voice spoke! “Mary, greetings! This is a joyous day, for God counts you among God’s very favorite persons, and your goodness will be rewarded!"

The words stirred Mary in a way she could not quite understand, and her face suddenly flushed, turning a very bright red. Her mind raced. Something very important was happening, she must get control of herself! Afraid of shutting off the voice, Mary barely breathed. Tears began to well up in her eyes.

The voice spoke again! “You will bear a boy child, who will be God’s own. The boy will grow up to be a king, a great king of the Hebrews, and even of humankind everywhere!”

Mary’s hand moved up to her mouth, covering it. The voice seemed to be waiting. All Mary could think of to say, was ‘Oh,” out loud into the room. Again, the room seemed to soak up her words. Oh...

Deep within her, Mary now felt a question: was this going to be alright with her? She felt, rather than heard, that she had a choice to make. She could agree to be the mother of a boy king, or decide not to. But Mary also felt a rightness to what the voice had said, as if her whole life up to this point were directed to this matter. It was not a question; it was an answer.

Astoundingly, in the midst of all of this import and news and attention and relief and understanding, technical questions intruded. Mary knew all about the facts of life, as they were, from things overheard and discussed with friends her age. The love between a man and a woman, the quickening, the gory business of childbirth. There were, indeed, no secrets in a small village like Nazareth, even of life’s more intimate details. She knew, there was something missing in the equation.

The voice seemed friendly enough. Mary blurted out her question. “How is this going to work, exactly? I mean, I’m not seeing anyone right now.“ And, one other thought: “My mother won’t let me get near enough to anyone for something like this to happen!”

The voice spoke to her again. “You will not have to do anything different; you are truly one of God’s favorite people. God’s shadow will come over you, and the baby will quicken inside of you.“ Again Mary sensed, rather than heard, the question hanging in the air, unspoken by the voice. This was going to be a choice for her, or not.

Mary didn’t know quite how to say her answer. So, she repeated her first words. “Here am I.” The room: very, very, still. Her words: absorbed by the quiet. Here am I…

The noises of the household began again, making a low hum.

Mary took a deep breath, and found a broom.