Mary

Advent and Lent are the same season, the pastor explained. The waiting and the anticipation, the richness of the deep purple that adorns the worship space, the cast of “lead characters” in the familiar texts. Of course they are; Advent and Lent are the same season.

Still, it surprised me last week to see one of my favorite songs turn up in the set list that Alex had put together for us. We had plenty of music for the service and so I voted to tuck away Mary by Patty Griffin until Lent, like The Beatles’ Let it Be and the hymn What Wondrous Love Is This. And if not until Lent, at least until the next Sunday, when we hear an expectant Mary sing her Magnificat.

They’re bookends, the seasons and the songs about Mary. Many years ago, a church member requested that we sing Breath of Heaven by Amy Grant, and it has become a staple of our Advent song catalog. I have to admit that the older I get, the harder it is for me to sing that beautiful song; it feels false in my voice. Even my daughter is much older than the Mary who sings, “I have traveled many moonless nights, cold and weary, with a babe inside.” That young Mary is afraid, but she is trusting and inexperienced about the world.

I relate so much more to Griffin’s Mary, who is far beyond swaddling clothes and nursing. She’s in a different, darker stage of expectation and not knowing. She understands the way the world will try, in a thousand ways, to break her child and her own spirit. This Mary, “covered in roses, covered in ashes, covered in rain, covered in babies, in slashes, in wilderness, in stains,” has seen so much that her younger self certainly didn’t dream of and could never anticipate.

And yet, she remains faithful. She was called to holy work and she keeps at it. In Advent and in Lent, she reminds us to let the light in. I’m encouraged by the call this Advent season to find new ways to be a light to others. If I ever was that open-hearted Mary who believed in the promise of something new, then she’s still in me, watching and ready. “Oh, Mary, she moves behind me. She leaves her fingerprints everywhere. Every time the snow drifts, every way the sand shifts, even when the night lifts, she’s always there.”

Holy One,

May we find new ways, in whatever season of our lives, to be light to a weary world.

Amen

As song leader at Peace, Eli looks forward to bringing new songs and old favorites to worship. She wishes you each a season filled with love and light.