Week 3 of Advent: But I'm just a girl.

This week, we celebrate Gaudete Sunday, and I’ve been struggling with how to reflect on that in my blog. I’ve done some research about why the priests wear rose vestments, but all of the answers I found seemed very general. “Gaudete” means “rejoice,” and pink is a color of rejoicing. Seriously. That sums up the seven or eight Catholic blogs and articles I found about this topic. And to be honest, I just wanted to find a way to tie in this meme because who wouldn’t appreciate the humor in connecting Mean Girls to the Church? But as I was driving to work, I heard a song I’d never heard before, and I’ve decided to reflect on that song today. Before you continue reading, take a moment to listen to it or at least read the lyrics.

The song focuses on the innkeeper that turned away Mary and Joseph on the night that Jesus was born. There are a few particular sections of the song I would like to reflect on this week because they struck a chord (pun most definitely intended) with me as I listened to the song.

Just a girl.

Just a couple gypsies begging at the door.

Tell them we don’t have room for anymore.

And closed the door.

In light of the Syrian refugee crisis, this seems particularly poignant. I’m not using this blog to make political statements, but hearing these words forced me to think about this topic. My automatic response to this problem is, “Yes, open the doors to these suffering people. They need a place to go, and it’s our duty as Christians to welcome them into a loving and safe place.” But I must be honest and say that I have questions such as, “Where will these people live? And how can we provide safe and loving places for them if we aren’t taking the time to care for the many suffering people (the homeless and the hungry, for example) that are already within our borders?” I don’t have answers, but this crisis can be tied so closely to the innkeeper’s response to Mary and Joseph, and I couldn’t leave that connection out of my reflection.

The keeper wept for what he’d done.

He turned away God’s own Son.

Do we ever turn away Jesus in the face of struggle and hardship and sin? *raises hand* Usually, when I realize what I’ve done (whether immediately or after some serious reflection), my heart hurts, and tears are not uncommon. When I heard these lyrics, I pictured the man falling to his knees outside the stable when he saw the face of the little baby Jesus. And then I thought, “Oh my gosh. What would I do if I had seen that, if I had seen the Christ child and known what He would do for the world?” I’d most likely collapse as well. I would much rather collapse from joy of the sight of Jesus than collapse from grief caused by sin and by turning away from the love that God offers. I pray that we may learn something from the innkeeper in this story and refuse to turn away Christ as He acts in our lives.

Just a girl.

Does she even know that she just changed the world?

Does she even know that He will save the world?

Does Mary know that He will save the world?

She’s just a girl.

Just a girl.

Just a girl. (In case hearing it three times wasn’t enough). I am just a girl. I will not give birth to Jesus as Mary did. I was not born without original sin. But that does not mean that God is not calling me to higher things, calling me to say, “Let it be done unto me according to Your word.” Mary was created to be Jesus’ mother and to be our beautiful mother. We are created to use the gifts and talents God gives us as Mary was. Mary was called to devote her life to God, and we are called to do the same. In one of my first blog posts, I mentioned a talk from the SEEK2015 conference given by Jennifer Fulwiler, and I’m going to bring it up again. She talked a lot about Mary and how we are called to live like her, and I had never heard anyone approach that topic quite like she did. She was discussing the idea that, like us, Mary was just a young girl, and in her day, she was a modern woman. We are modern women. If Mary was alive today, how would she dress? What would she look like? Wouldn’t she be just like us? Jennifer said something I will never forget: “Look in the mirror. That is the modern Mary.” Cue tears. Yes, I am just a girl. So was Mary. But like her, we are called to change the world.

We are so close to Christmas, and I hope that this Advent season has proven to be a fruitful one for you. May we all welcome Christ into our lives this season and look to Mary for an example of perfect devotion and trust in our Lord.