IN REVERSE
A Widow Bit – Dec. 21, 2009
By Mary Koch

            I’ve been preparing for Christmas by getting to know Mary a little better. Not me-Mary, but the biblical Mary, mother of Jesus, daughter of Anne. In my earlier years, I was never that interested in Mary – negatively influenced, probably, by Christmas pageants. Traditionally, Mary’s character is given nothing to do but sit demurely and adore the baby doll in the manger. Boring. Better that my parents had named me for one of those feisty, sexy, Old Testament heroines like Esther or Ruth.

            Some years ago, a friend sent me a photo of a contemporary Mary sculpture that stands in front of a small church in Oregon. The life-sized sculpture is bronze, but Mary’s face is alive with laughter, and her arms are thrust outward, preparing a welcoming embrace. “C’mon-a-my-house,” she seems to be saying, as if there’s a party going on inside. Now there’s a Mary I could get to like.

            Not counting the Bible and Qur’an (which places Mary under a palm tree instead of in a stable), you can find an endless number of books, movies, songs, poetry and various writings about Mary. What you run into is a mix of scholarship, theology, mythology, fantasy and skepticism. If you try to meld them all into an understanding of Mary as a person, you get a schizophrenic crazy quilt. Mary is whoever or whatever you want or need her to be.

            I need Mary to be as she was described in a magazine article written by Scot McKnight, a professor in religious studies at North Park University in Chicago. The professor describes Mary as a political subversive, someone willing to go “toe-to-toe” with the infamous despot, Herod. This view of Mary as a cheeky revolutionary is far more appealing than the meek and mild nonentity depicted at the manger. It is based on Mary’s own song – the Magnificat – in which she exults over God’s ability to turn the world upside down: “He has brought down rulers from their thrones but has lifted up the humble. He has filled the hungry with good things but has sent the rich away empty.” Scholars refer to the Magnificat as the “Song of Reversals.” God’s justice is the reverse of humankind’s.

            Just or not, into every life comes reversals. Mary’s life was full of them – surely not at all what she anticipated when she first sang the Magnificat. The largest reversal in my own life – my husband’s devastating stroke – occurred shortly before Christmas 16 years ago. Not even his death, years later, put me into such a 180 spin. We don’t tend to appreciate reversals for what they can do for us. I had no idea that forsaking a newspaper career for caregiving would make my life profoundly richer and more meaningful.

            A lot of people experienced reversals this year, and there may be more to come. My Christmas and New Year’s wish for us all is this: May our reversals be no greater than required to set us on the right path.