I held Madonna in my hand--a small figure from our Nativity. Her head was slightly bowed; posture tipped forward, as if bowing her heart, as well. I studied her, something of her form speaking to me about myself.
A word came to mind--a strange word, at first. Consensual. It was a consensual pregnancy that led to the birth of Jesus.
Typically, when we hear or use the word "consensual" it is in relationship with the word sex. We speak of two "consenting" adults, agreeing to engage in sexual relations with one another--often illicit sexual relations.
Yet I saw it here, as well. Consensual pregnancy. Holy Spirit consenting to impregnate. Young virgin consenting to be impregnated. Both with postures low, head's bowed. One, not considering equality with God something to be grasped. Another, not considering being chosen by God something conceivable.
Protests rose up within her. "But how can this be? I'm a virgin; unworthy; not capable." Protests rose up within him. "Must I take on human flesh; leave the heavens of my home; suffer?"
In the end, both said yes.
Giving birth to our dreams begins with the same consent on both our parts--God's and ours. Our being humbled by being chosen; God's humility in choosing. Heads and hearts bowed.
What protests rise up within you and me? Do we have the courage to consent, to say, "Be it unto me as you have said."?