One time her saddle slipped, and she found herself head down under the belly of a donkey as she crossed a stream. Complaining to the Lord of her treatment, she heard him reply, “Teresa, whom the Lord loves, he chastises. This is how I treat all my friends.” She replied tartly, “No wonder you have so few!”(*)
"Blessed are you among women" to have an out-of-wedlock pregnancy in a land where such things mattered, to be in labor in a stable, to have to leave your homeland because the king wants to kill your son, to have a "sword pierce your own soul also."
Joseph gets to raise somebody else's son, be regarded as not quite self-controlled, run to Egypt (so much for getting rich off that gold and spices--they go to pay expenses), and never see the son become the Messiah.
If we're going to be like God, do we have to suffer as He does?
Even the Nativity has some Calvary in it. Childbirth seems to be hard on the baby too, and that new baby you see--cells are growing, but others are dying. Even a newborn is dying a little. To go from being the author of life to being a contingent being that is always dying has to be a painful change--and we're supposed to want to unite with God.
There's no escaping pain anyway (Gautama to the contrary), so it might as well have a meaning and a purpose. But it doesn't make "take up your cross daily" any easier.
(*)There are several versions of the story.
2 comments:
"to have an out-of-wedlock pregnancy in a land where such things mattered,"
Oh, it still matters. The social stigma is not as strong as it used to be, but it generally means that the mother is going to have a much lower living standard, if not outright poverty, and her child is is more likely to end up poor, poorly educated and to run afoul of law enforcement.
If the later incident of the woman taken in adultery is any guide, the consequences could range up to the pretty dramatic. Even if things didn't go that far, disowning was possible and without family to back you up, prospects were quite dim.
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