Submission, but not submissive

This week, for the fourth Sunday of Advent, the lectionary invites us to read the story of the annunciation. Last time it came around, three years ago, I wrote a reflection. I still stand by what I wrote then, and this is, in some ways, the continuation of it.  Like all the texts we read this time of year, this is a deeply familiar one and there is probably nothing to say that has not already been said (which doesn't going to mean I'm not going to add a fair few words of my own to the conversation.)

The annunciation scene opens with the angel greeting Mary, “highly-favoured one”. I know I am not saying anything new, but I think it bears repeating that this greeting, the acknowledgment of Mary as highly-favoured, comes first. God’s blessing already exists. It is not earned. It is not consequent on her choices or actions or response. I do not believe that it would be withdrawn if Mary had said no.

And I believe this to be true for our own lives too. Whatever we are called to, and I am in no way detracting from the reality of that call, the nature of being beloved of God, of being “highly favoured” precedes and is not dependent on anything we might do in response.

And I do absolutely believe that this, the annunciation story is the story of a response, a choice: to accept or to decline the invitation, the challenge, the promise. Perhaps the God who exists out of time did already know that Mary would acquiesce, perhaps. But I don’t think that means Mary wasn’t free to make her own choice. This act of incarnation relies on Mary’s cooperation. She chose to say yes. She could have said no.

The church often focuses on the many ways in which humanity “needs” God, but perhaps speaks less about the possibility that God needs us too. But for me, the story of the annunciation, is the story of God needing, or choosing to need, humanity. The outworking of the incarnation, of God becoming present in the world in this way, is only possible with human agreement. Perhaps that too remains true today: that God can only be made incarnate in the world, again and again with the cooperation of humanity. I wonder if we shy away from this idea because deep down, however challenging we find it to get our heads round the idea of an almighty God, the idea a vulnerable one, reliant on our fragile humanity is something we struggle to get our heads round even more. And perhaps we shy away from it because deep down we are not really sure if we want to accept the responsibility that comes with it.

The other thing that I wanted to reflect on, which is perhaps in some ways related, is the image we have of Mary in this scene. I think, generally, we have a picture of a very submissive Mary, head meekly bowed as she accepts the angel’s instruction. A quick google image search would certainly suggest that’s how it has mostly been portrayed down through the ages. It is there in the lyrics of the angel Gabriel carol “Gentle Mary meekly bowed her head”, but it is not there in the biblical text.

Despite their shared root, I think there is quite a difference between submission, and being submissive. And I think that in Mary’s submission to the will of God, there is nothing that implies she is, or becomes, submissive.

I like to think instead of Mary looking straight at the angel with fire in her eyes as she accepts this mission. There aren't many artistic interpretations which show this, and I don't have the talent to draw or paint the picture in my head... but I’m not sure I believe Mary looked down at her toes. I don’t believe this was a whispered, “ok, I will,” I believe it was a much more feisty, “ok bring it on!” 

Mary doesn’t have a major starring role in the gospels, but she does have a speaking part, and she does have a voice. If we listen to that biblical voice of Mary, I think we find it is quite different to the one that has been culturally created ever since. I suspect we would do well to scrape away the layers of medieval paint and Victorian values, and to rediscover this Mary who submits but whose voice is never submissive. The Mary who dares to question God’s messenger, and who at times challenges and even defies God. The Mary who actively chooses to play her part in the incarnation story, and who does so willingly but not naively.

I wonder if we are called to this kind of submission too: a submission that is chosen, that is a shared responsibility with God and which we are allowed to approach with our heads held high. I wonder how such an invitation feels?