And I imagine her joy at knowing that the words of that Saint are still read today…
I have been reflecting on the Gospel of Saint Luke. The Gospel of Saint Luke is an interesting Gospel to me because it is in this Gospel that Saint Luke, a Greek, an educated man and a doctor, recounts the story of the Incarnation of Christ by the Holy Spirit of the Blessed Virgin…
“The angel Gabriel said, ‘Hail, full of grace, the Lord is with you!’ But she was greatly troubled at the saying, and considered in her mind what sort of greeting this might be. And the angel said to her, ‘Do not be afraid, Mary, for you have found favour with God. And behold, you will conceive in your womb and bear a Son, and you shall call his name Jesus. He will be great, and will be called the Son of the Most High; and the Lord God will give to him the throne of his father David, and he will reign over the house of Jacob for ever; and of his kingdom there will be no end.’” (Luke 1:26-38).
And I have been reflecting on that scene today. Not only the scene described in the Gospel – where the Blessed Virgin became mother of God – but another scene, the scene in a kitchen perhaps, as the Blessed Virgin sat telling her story to Saint Luke, long after the death and resurrection of her Beloved Son…
Saint Luke never met Christ. It was years after Christ’s death that Saint Luke heard the message of salvation. And when he did he travelled to the Blessed Virgin and spoke to her.
I imagine him sitting at her kitchen table, and listening to her speak as she cooked their meals. I imagine him taking notes from what she said, and double checking her words. I imagine him stopping her and asking her questions ti clarify what she meant. I imagine him pausing in wonder at the things that he heard. I imagine him pondering those things in his heart and considering all the different ways that these things could be interpreted and what this could possibly mean to him.
I imagine how his world turned on its axis as he listened to these words of the Blessed Virgin. He had heard them from Saint Paul the Apostle first, which is how he converted, but I imagine how surreal the moment would have felt when he sat at the table and watched the Blessed Virgin. There she would have stood or sat or walked in all her humble queenship, rolling dough on the kitchen bench and sweeping dust from her earthen floor, and speaking in soft and patient tones in answer to the Saint’s questions.
And I imagine her in Heaven with him today. I imagine her gentle smile so filled with sorrow for the suffering of her Beloved Son. And I imagine her joy at knowing that the words of that Saint are still read today…
For with prayer, I stand on Holy Ground where everything is clear. Here. At the Foot of the Cross.
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