(Photo: Pexels/Beyzaa Yurtkuran)
Elizabeth said “No,” but before that, a few months earlier, she had believed and said yes to the impossible. Her life changed history, hers and ours, forever.
I have been dialoguing with this text and its characters for days, and they are so powerful that I am afraid to start writing because it is not easy to bring to light interpretations that are not normally made. If you do, you may be viewed with suspicion in our traditional Church.
But then I hear a voice inside me saying, “More suspicion than what Elizabeth and Mary experienced? Impossible!” How easy and dangerous it is to exalt and praise to the people who accompany us on our journey; but how much more difficult it is to unravel the chronicled truths that are interpreted from a historical context that is now outdated. We should strip these truths of their patriarchal trappings to see them in the light of Ruah and the signs of today.
Deconstruct to reconstruct. This is the story of Elizabeth. Elizabeth is considered a hinge between the Old and New Testaments because she accepted the angel’s announcement to her husband, the priest Zechariah. Although we are not told so, she is one of the largely invisible women who made the Incarnation of Jesus possible because her acceptance of God’s plan parallels that of Mary of Nazareth.
Both women, full of life, yet against all odds, are at the forefront of the Gospel. They are practicing Jewish women and, because of their openness to the Spirit of the living God, their lives make it possible for a tradition that was dying out at that time to evolve, and to move away from the old for something new to emerge. This is what the evangelists tell us with passion.
“Deconstruct in order to build: this is the story of the women of the Bible and our own. Evolution will come if we assume the ministry of saying no to the old, of pushing open that door that seems to lead into a void.” (Sister Magda Bennásar)
The barrenness of Zechariah and Elizabeth signifies the sterility of the Jewish institution, expressed in its disbelief in taking the step from logic to faith: Zechariah replied to the angel, “How can I be sure of this? I am an old man, and my wife is well advanced in years.”
The angel replied, “I am Gabriel, (which means “the strength of God”), who stands before God. I was sent to speak to you and to announce to you this good news. But now you will be speechless and unable to talk… because you did not believe my words…” (Luke 1, 18 – 21)
This muteness implies that Judaism, represented in the figure of the priest Zechariah, ceased to nourish his faith; it signifies that his relationship with God is more about fulfilling God’s laws and numerous precepts. Muteness also indicates that prophets no longer rise up because their words no longer ignite the spark of faith in people’s hearts.
From that point on, in the biblical account, it is Elizabeth who has the last word because she did believe and, therefore was filled with the Spirit of God who, through her simple life and openness to Ruah, makes her words prophetic.
We know from the texts that there is a beautiful story interwoven here, which is the angel’s announcement to Mary of Nazareth. The dialogue is absolutely fascinating! The young Mary, in her transparent humility, asks questions of God’s representative (cf. Luke 1, 34). Unlike Zechariah, the representative of the priestly institution, Mary’s attitude is open and receptive. She does not ask for guarantees; she embraces the mystery, trusts and throws herself into an experience that changes history and opens for us a path of life, of gestation, of accepted pain in order to give birth to God’s plan.
Mary accompanies Elizabeth; their pregnancies are a joy and a mystery for them. The elderly woman with the younger woman, the younger woman with the elderly woman; as in our communities, all pregnant with life, united by the same feeling.
As I have said, it is Elizabeth who speaks when the baby is born. According to Jewish tradition, in that patriarchal culture, it is the father who names the child… and he would also give him his own name.
“But his mother (Elizabeth) said in reply, ‘No. He will be called John.’” (Luke 1, 60) Elizabeth draws strength from the sincere commitment of her life to the God, and she receives the word that will be heard throughout history. With that inner authority, she bends the arch of the institution and its patriarchy; and it will be Zechariah himself who, by obeying God’s plan through her, will recover his speech, now more docilely, from the house where they lived, and not from the temple where he worked as a priest, praying on behalf of the people.
And here we are, dear sisters, at this historic turning point. Perhaps many of us feel sterile because of this or that institution…
Supported by that word, by that woman, by Elizabeth, I want to share that this time in which we live is a time for attentive listening so that we may become more and more servants of the Word of God, which has the power to tear down the iron towers of institutions and to give voice to those whom the institution renders invisible.
Our call to be prophetic, which we received when we were baptized to be priests, prophets, and pastors, and then confirmed in a very powerful way when we made vows or promises of consecration, shows us a path of renewal and evolution.
Sometimes it will be the voices of our older Sisters who will say, like Elizabeth, “No! Not that way! Let’s not perpetuate traditions that ignore the Gospel, which—with its transparency, unsettling nature, and internal dynamism—leads us into the unknown and, if it is from God will be good.”
Other times, the younger ones among us will have to propose projects to update and make our ministries authentic through life and word.
Deconstruct in order to reconstruct: this is the story of the women of the Bible and our own. Evolution will come if we assume the ministry of “being hinges,” of saying no to the old and pushing open that door that seems to open to emptiness, yet is the path of faith and the imminent future of consecrated life, life in the Spirit.
Jesus had to separate Himself from the institution because it prevented him from being Himself. The institution tried to remove Him from our midst, but His Spirit is what permeates our lives; it is what makes possible the gestation that this historic moment needs. It is for this that we responded to His call.
Saying no may seem negative, but it can make it possible for us to close the underground cellars and open ourselves to the light. Already from the house, his house, the place where the Spirit dwells, the two give life to John the Baptist, who will show us the way that leads to Jesus. Today, we give life to these stories that are there to be reincarnated in the different languages of today.
We say no so that we can say yes and allow life to continue to evolve.
Magda Bennásar Oliver, SFCC
Taken from the Advent e-book. Global Sisters Report