Church of the Visitation in Ein Karem, Israel
One of the eye opening moments of my pilgrimage to the Holy Land was learning the very concrete topography of several of the sights. Few so opened a new understanding in me as the site of the Visitation. So, when the gospel says that Mary set out in haste to the HILL COUNTRY, we think – oh, how nice that must have been. Beautiful scenery (it is) Nice breezes. (they were) Wonderful perspective from Elizabeth’s house. (Yessiree, Bob). All those things are very true.
But then there is this one more detail. The well where you drew water. Because the cities were all set on the hillside, the wells would be either impossibly deep to have been dug into the hillside, or they would be at the bottom of the hills upon which the towns were built. So they show you the well. At the BOTTOM of the hill. At the BOTTOM of the very LONG hill. At the BOTTOM of the VERY STEEP, VERY LONG hill. They did not call it the hill country for naught.
When you know that, it puts another level of understanding to the yes that Mary said to be the handmaid of the Lord. If it was true that the only sign given her about the truth of the angel’s word’s to her – that Elizabeth was 6 months pregnant – was indeed the case, then Mary sets out to the hill country precisely because she knows that Elizabeth will be needing the help – the practical help of carrying the water up the hill.
Let that little fact sink in.
The first thing that Mary chooses to do, once she has said “YES” to being the handmaid of the Lord – is to BE just that, in a very practical way. She sets out to serve. To make that daily or more than daily, walk from the bottom of that very steep, very long hill to bring the needed water to Elizabeth’s house. To take that burden off of aged Elizabeth in her pregnancy. What a practical, concrete way of being love to her kinswoman. “Let me draw water for you from the well…”
I wonder if that is exactly how you and I could spend this fourth week of Advent – looking at one family, one person in our life and asking the same question: How can I concretely be of service to them? What is the ‘hill country’ that they will find/are finding difficult in their lives? What is the ‘bucket’ of water that I might bring to them?
I think of my friend’s wife, Ann, and their two kids – now celebrating their first Christmas without Dave – and found myself asking her: “What can I do that would be helpful in dealing with these days?” “We will be fine through Christmas. I will be needing you to be around in January, when all this business slows down, and the reality will completely sink in.” SO, I plan to go watch a water polo game of their son Thomas in Dave’s place. And to cook a meal for the family and some guests on a day of their choosing in Feb.
What of befriending with a letter one prisoner – one person who is not likely to receive any kind of letter or gift or communication from a loved one? What would it be to commit to a letter a month?
I find myself asking about the ‘hill country’ of ISLAMAPHOBIA that seems to be gripping more and more of the rhetoric of our election debate, and realize that I need to log into the various websites of the various candidates and elected officials to make sure that the voice of those fleeing certain death from their own government still have a hearing in the policies and laws our government is considering in the wake of San Bernardino.
Sometimes, it seems like the ‘hill country’ is all around us. That the road to the top, to the view, to the breeze where all is according to God’s will might not ever come to be. But, if like Mary, we are willing to be handmaids and servants in our days, then one bucket at a time, one choice of love at a time, one practical decision at a time, we will be the ones of whom it is said: “Blessed are you who believed, and who put God’s word into practice…”