“Then the angel departed from her.”
God’s descent to earth and Mary’s vocation as the God-bearer are announced and brought to completion in a conversation that probably took less time than a decade of the Rosary. As soon as Mary speaks her Fiat, the angel departs. There is no more need for words, for the Word has come.
This wondrous moment of silence following the Annunciation is a beauty so ineffable, so gently numinous that only the white space between the lines of Scripture whispers of it. It is this stillness that marks the Advent season and the cornerstone of the Christian Vocation. A mother encircles her child, receives His whole being as her own. The unspoken Word speaks love, reliance, intimacy, within the silent waters of the womb.
It is this point of departure that marks the beginning of Mary’s Vocation as Mother of God. There she stands, to all external senses alone. With the angel, departs any other witness to the miracle that has just taken place in Mary’s person. With the angel, departs Mary’s dreams for her life up to this point.
Of course, Mary’s hope does not depart, for hope is a theological virtue that life’s events would not shatter for one who is perfect in virtue. And of course, this event is far better, far more beautiful than even Mary could have anticipated in her undimmed, sinless imagination! But nevertheless, Mary’s vision for her life is completely different now that the Son of God has entered the world. We do not exactly know what Mary’s dreams and desires were prior to the Annunciation, but her likely desire for some form of consecrated virginity will now look very different, even as the Father fulfils that desire. Her marriage to Joseph is no longer what she expected. This moment of negation, this departure of the angel, is the departure of Mary’s old life.
And what is ahead? What lies beyond this departure?
Loss. Rejection. Scourge marks. Nails and thirsty cries from a cross.
And glory. Love. Resurrection. The same light that will illumine a darkened tomb already radiates invisibly from within the Virgin’s womb.
But all there is in this moment are two beating hearts. Mary’s breath is for another. Here in the silence is the birth of His dream, and hers.
And now, Mary must make haste, for the light must be magnified. His song and hers beckon to others. Their dream is the redemption of the whole world.
What we call the beginning is often the end, and to make an end is to make a beginning. – T.S. Eliot
Living Full Throttle 