Salvation to all that will is nigh ;
That All, which always is all everywhere,
Which cannot sin, and yet all sins must bear,
Which cannot die, yet cannot choose but die,
Lo! faithful Virgin, yields Himself to lie
In prison, in thy womb ; and though He there
Can take no sin, nor thou give, yet He’ll wear,
Taken from thence, flesh, which death’s force may try.
Ere by the spheres time was created thou
Wast in His mind, who is thy Son, and Brother ;
Whom thou conceivest, conceived ; yea, thou art now
Thy Maker’s maker, and thy Father’s mother,
Thou hast light in dark, and shutt’st in little room
Immensity, cloister’d in thy dear womb.
Annunciation, John Donne
On Christmas, the immensity of God took humanity as a part of himself. The incomprehensible divine became joined to the ordinary. In a very real sense, despite the discomfort the title gives Protestants like me, Mary became the mother of God. She held the Almighty within her own body, and fed and nourished and sheltered him.
When I was a child, I remember wishing I could meet Jesus. I wanted to look at him and hold his hand or sit in his lap. I wanted to be able to talk with him like any two people talk. I longed for the physical presence of Jesus, and wished I could have been one of the people who knew him the first time around.
But we can know him in a way much more personal even than that. Jesus said that he had to return to the Father in order for the Comforter, the Holy Spirit, to come and live within us. He considered this gift so great that it was worth his bodily absence.
For Christians, who believe in a triune God, the immensity of God continues to cloister himself within us. The Holy Spirit lives inside us, leading us into to truth, causing us to recognize our errors, bringing us to repentance and faith, and empowering us to love others as we should. Like Mary, we are vessels of something holy, something beyond our comprehension. In the heart of every believer, God has once again chosen to reside.
May we live this Christmas season worthy of the gift God has given. May we know the constant presence of the Comforter, the Spirit of Christ.
What a beautiful sonnet. I haven’t read this one before, and it’s a perfect illustration of why paradox is so central to Donne’s religious poetry.
Beautiful, beauitful post.
I wanted to meet Jesus, too. I imagined very clearly that we would sit on our porch and drink gingerale. And your line, about how we are vessels of something holy, gave me shivers.
Your post reminded me of a chapel I visited many times while growing up. It is in St. Augustine, FL, and called Our Lady of La Leche, which features a statue of Mary breastfeeding a baby Jesus. It’s very discreet, but she is nursing him with her own body. I have not seen this statue in many years but I was suddenly reminded of it when you wrote, “She held the Almighty within her own body, and fed and nourished…”
And like Beck, I too enjoyed your words, “Like Mary, we are vessels of something holy, something beyond our comprehension.”
I think this is one of your best posts. Thanks.
I hope all is well with you and life just interfered with the last two days of Christmas posting.
I really enjoyed this series. It moved me greatly and spurred me on to deep reflection.