Serbia, Winter, 1993
On the domed ceiling God
 is thinking:
 I made them my joy,
 and everything else I created
 I made to bless them.
 But see what they do!
 I know their hearts
 and arguments:
“We’re descended from
 Cain. Evil is nothing new,
 so what does it matter now
 if we shell the infirmary,
 and the well where the fearful
 and rash alike must
 come for water?”
God thinks Mary into being.
 Suspended at the apogee
 of the golden dome,
 she curls in a brown pod,
 and inside her the mind
 of Christ, cloaked in blood,
 lodges and begins to grow.

“Mosaic of the Nativity: Serbia, Winter, 1993” 

by Jane Kenyon 

From Collected Poems, Graywolf Press

The poet Jane Kenyon died my junior year in college, and I remember my English professor, a dear friend of Jane and her husband and fellow poet Donald Hall, were devastated. In her honor, he often taught her poems. Since being introduced to this poem many years ago, this image of the Incarnation has always stuck with me, especially for its depiction of how intentional God was in designing the Incarnation: thinking Mary into being, the humanity of the Christ child growing in the womb as we all do, and all of this as a remedy for our fallen ways and a reminder of our original blessing. In the midst of the horror of war and other atrocities, the poet imagines God’s response: Incarnation.

Our readings on this Fourth Sunday of Advent are filled with trust, hope and assurance that God indeed intervenes on behalf of God’s people. When we think of what INCARNATION means, it is just that – God is not a distant God unconcerned with the plight of humanity, deaf to the cries of the Israelites. No, God is far from that. God is one so connected with humanity that God even became one of us. Our Gospel reading, the familiar story of the Visitation between Mary and Elizabeth, shows two women believing in and on the lookout for God’s promises to be revealed. Elizabeth proclaims, “Blessed are you who believed that what was spoken to you by the Lord would be fulfilled.”

This last Sunday of Advent and these upcoming days of Christmas celebrations, we are called to ask ourselves if we, too, believe in God’s promises and trust that God will be faithful, like the prophet Micah assures the Israelites in our first reading.   Mary and Elizabeth did not wait in doubt, but in joyful expectation for God’s promises. This Christmas, this certain Christmas this very year, may our longings join with theirs in joyful expectation for the divine in our lives.   

We are on the lookout in joyful expectation:  Come, Lord Jesus, Come.