To approach this Gospel passage silently is a basic precaution.
One misplaced word is enough to undermine the perfection of the Annunciation, which is the perfect balance of Blood and Wind, Flesh and Spirit.
The astonished blood of a young girl who feels loved by the gaze of the Wind she had known all her life but which had never penetrated her to such a profound degree.
Hail, full of grace! The Lord is with you.
Every Love story takes this as its starting point: joy, overwhelming love, closeness. From a decisive assault on our solitude, to the things we are asked to bear and those we choose.
With you: history is always fulfilled within a covenant proposal. This is God’s first step. A covenant that is consummated, in the Gospel, by choosing the ardently-sought poetry of the peripheries. The Annunciation is the art of poverty.
Small things, like Mary. Poor Art. The splendor hidden in common dust. Falling in love with blood and dust to say that Hope flourishes in the flesh of everyday life.
Lord, Christmas is just around the corner. Blow a breath of your bracing Wind into the weary veins of our existence.
Give us the power of proximity.
Give us the courage of love and a virginal gaze.
Give us capacity to say yes to your Word. May our fears not pose too great an obstacle to what you have in mind for us.
Behold, I am the handmaid of the Lord.
May it be done to me according to your word.
