I THOUGHT I KNEW The Rev. Ainsely Emrick
I thought I knew
her story
after all we told it
every year:
angels
in halos made of tinsel
proclaiming
with trembling voices
do not be afraid
you have found favor with God
you shall have a son.
and little girls
dressed all in blue
heads bowed
hands folded
I am the Lord’s servant
let it be with me
as you have said.
Meek – gentle — soft
Quiet – submissive — faithful
the virgin
the mother of God
sees the star
shepherds
angels
wise men
and treasures all these things
in her heart
but why
didn’t you tell me
the rest of the story
about the Mary
who sang
the Mary who prophesied
the Mary who knew?
those words that I sang
in a language I didn’t even understand:
magnificat anima
mea Dominum
my soul magnifies the Lord
desposuit potentes de sede
he has pulled down
the mighty from their seat
et exaltavit humiles
and has exalted the humble.
why didn’t you tell me
this girl
this meek
obedient
faithful young woman
sang a song
so powerful so prophetic
so daring so wild
so true
that 2000 years later
tyrants still tremble
at her words?
he has filled the hungry
with good things
and sent the rich away empty.
I sang those words
in places of power
places of privilege
for people who have never
known hunger
or war or oppression
and they smiled
and they clapped
and they never understood
that Mary did not sing for them –
Mary was not one of them
that frightened girl
living in poverty
in a conquered land
forced to flee
to leave her home
to save her baby
from a tyrant
and the crushing hand
of empire.
Mary did not sing
so the comfortable
the privileged
the rich
could be entertained
and feel warm
in their hearts
sitting in their beautiful cathedrals.
she sang for the child
locked in a cage
who may never
see their parents again –
parents who only wanted
a better life
a new beginning.
she sang for the teen
cast from their home
because their gender
doesn’t match the one
they were assigned
or because their love
doesn’t fit the mold.
she sang for the water protectors
standing before bulldozers
beaten for putting life
before money
and trying to preserve
this sacred earth
for all people.
she sang for the protestors
gasping in a cloud of gas
bruised and bleeding
from rubber bullets
chanting
I can’t breathe
hands up
don’t shoot.
she sang for the refugee
far from home
fleeing war violence
famine only to be told
you’re not welcome here
we must protect
our own.
she sang for people like herself
who live under occupation
their daily lives
full of check points
bulldozers
and soldiers
who point machine guns
at their children –
people whose land
was stolen from them
and who still hold keys
to houses long demolished
dreaming of the day
they can return home.
she sang for those
who don’t know
where their next
meal will come from
who go hungry
so their children can eat
who sleep on the streets
while houses sit empty
and food is thrown
into dumpsters.
she sang for those in prison
for the crime of being poor
or having
too much melanin
who are locked up
for the profit of the rich.
Mary sang
for you and for me
and for all
who know what it means
to suffer under empire
and for all who
stand with us.
Mary’s song reminds us
that this story
we have whitewashed
was never intended
for the rich
and powerful.
Mary’s song reminds us
that this child
asleep on the hay
so tender and mild
is the same one
who proclaims the year
of the Lord’s favor
who came
to proclaim good news to the poor
freedom for the prisoners
recovery of sight
for the blind
to set the oppressed free.
these words
that make empires
and tyrants
tremble with fear
are words of hope
for all who
seek justice peace
liberation.
these words
of joy
and resistance
remind us
that our God is
the God who sees –
who sees
our pain our hopes
our fear our dreams.
Mary’s song reminds us
the year of jubilee is coming
when all – all will be free.
Diocese News
