Mary among the Whisperers

 Mary among the Whisperers

Theology in the Trenches

By Kathleen Kjolhaug

“Have you heard?”

“Did you know?”

 The rumors were rampant.  Neighbor to neighbor the words were repeated, first to one, then to another, and so on.  It was market day; it was a day ripe for not only bartering, but catching up on the latest gossip.  True or not, news was news.  And, today’s circulating rumor was the talk of the town.

One had only to look in the direction of the young girl carrying the tall clay jar upon her head to realize that she knew what the others were speculating.  The night the angel had visited was such a holy night.  Today, her calm spirit carried itself well with each step taken around the busy square.  She knew far more than her accusers.  What’s more, she knew she must not only bear the joy of truth, but the pain of what the others thought of her.  Knowing truth did not lessen the pain of rejection.  Rejection hurt.

“Be it done Lord, according to Thy will.” The words came easy at the time, but now, in the midst of the muddle, it was difficult.  Hearing what people said, knowing she was the cause of the whispering this day and no doubt for many days to come, was more painful than the birth itself.  She was sure of it.  She reasoned that with birth, at least one moved closer to the joy which was to come.  With rumors, it was all kill joy.  Those who once stood beside her, now easily turned to the nearest itching ear.

Judgment abounded.  Fingers might as well be pointing, because the eyes that stared and the abrupt turning of cheeks were just as bad.  The social circles, in which she had once been a part of, now turned their backs on the fellowship she’d trusted.

She had no choice but to place one foot in front of the other and continue on the path in which she had been called.  A holy calling it was, but living in this world while trying not to be of it was not easy.  Tears were just beneath the surface as she reached the front gate of her house.  Her mother had only to look up to see the anguish on her daughter’s face.  Gathering Mary into her arms, she pulled her close.  No words were spoken as she gently stroked her daughter’s hair.  Together, as one, they dropped to their knees giving over that which was never theirs to begin with.  They prayed.

“In light of Your perfection, Lord, in light of the perfection of Your Son, Jesus Christ, who was, and is, and is to come, we have no pride.  Take from us that which is Yours.  Use us as you will, for Your glory.  And Lord, have mercy on the whisperers, for they know not what they do.

As John came before us saying, ‘Make straight the paths of the Lord.’  We pray, ‘Make straight the paths of our conversations.’”  Amen.