Mary's Model of Emptiness

Today, the Feast of the Annunciation of the Lord, was the first day of a new seating arrangement for the Mount community in the choir chapel. The social distancing we are practicing to prevent potential transmission of the coronavirus has been extended to our prayer space, so instead of sitting side by side, we are sitting two to a row in a checkerboard pattern, with an empty stall on either side of us.

At this time when our lives have been emptied of many of our usual practices and patterns, it is helpful to remember that Mary, Jesus’ mother, also experienced a great deal of emptiness in her life. We usually refer to Mary as being full—with the child in her womb, with grace—but as Michelle Francle-Donnay notes in Not By Bread Alone 2020: Daily Reflections for Lent, “…in Mary’s yes to this fullness, she is also saying yes to being emptied of God’s son, to let God go forth from her.” As with all mothers, Mary experienced an empty womb after giving birth and an empty nest after her son left home to make his own way in the world. Tragically, she was also carved out by grief after her son was killed.

Through her life, Mary showed us that we have to be empty to be filled. Her empty womb provided a space for Jesus to come into the world. The emptiness of grief created a space for her to be filled with great joy when her son was raised to new life. As Francl-Donnay observes, “The fullness of God’s work requires emptiness: Mary’s, Christ’s, and so ours as well.”

The emptiness of the seats next to us in chapel is a source of sadness, but it also provides a gift in that we must work harder to listen to each other’s voices so we can continue to chant and sing in harmony. Anything that increases our ability to listen will carry a blessing.

I encourage you not to be too quick to fill the emptiness you may be experiencing in these days of distancing and isolation from others. Rather, allow yourself to feel it and contemplate how it may be contributing to the fullness of God’s work in you.