I am someone who thrives when given an assignment—a specific product needed at a specific time with specific requirements in place. Maybe that’s why I enjoy being a pastor so much—I get to “turn in” my sermon on each assigned Sunday. That’s probably why I’ve written two devotional books—trading in school due dates for publisher deadlines. And that’s certainly why I’m spending a bright, crisp fall Saturday morning snuggled in a recliner writing this reflection.
I love a good assignment, but I was struggling with the one I had been given as part of my spiritual retreat: to create a “rule of life.” For those unfamiliar with the term, a rule of life is a spiritual guideline you establish for yourself. I had written a rule several years prior on a self-directed retreat. At that point I created an ambitious schedule of spiritual practices for myself: daily reading and prayers, weekly worship, monthly retreats or who knows what—I don’t remember because I didn’t follow through with any of it.
And here I was again with the assignment to create a rule of life. Only this time I was being guided by my retreat leaders and accompanied by dear friends who were part of my ecumenical clergy cohort. The leaders had shared examples of rules and given us lots of space (metaphorical and literal) to pray and work. Still, I was stuck. I knew my new rule wouldn’t be a list of things I had to do, but I didn’t know what it would be. As much as I love assignments, I prefer those with clear outlines and word counts.
So I wandered aimlessly for a bit around Holy Wisdom Monastery, and because it was January in Wisconsin I mostly wandered inside. Before long I found myself in a small chapel room with a statue of a beautiful Black Madonna. I was drawn to her—the sheen of her skin, the peaceful expression on her face, the power of her arms as she held (a disproportionately large) baby Jesus in one hand and a scepter in the other. I stared at her. I sat with her. I read her story from Scripture. I talked to her. And I listened to her.
The rule of life I was given on that retreat is not a spiritual to-do list or a specific theological commitment. My rule of life is simply Mary, the mother of Jesus. It feels a bit odd, as a Mennonite, to have this connection to Mary—to love her story and repeat her song and look to her for spiritual grounding and guidance. But that is where I have landed, with Mary as my rule of life.
When I begin the day or end the day or feel I am drifting away from my spiritual center during the day, I speak her words of joy and justice: “My soul magnifies the Holy One, and my spirit rejoices in God, my savior.” When hard things emerge, when I feel weighed down with worry, I take a deep breath and receive the words God gave to her through the angel: “Do not be afraid.” “Nothing will be impossible with God.” When I consider how I should be, what I should do, I look to her example and consider which holy action the Spirit is calling me to in the moment: creating, questioning, discerning, connecting, blessing, praising, rejoicing, caring, adapting, treasuring, pondering, boldly proclaiming justice.
While I have Mary as a spiritual companion throughout the year, Advent is a season in which I am compelled to ground myself more firmly in my rule. It is a time when those of us in the church tend to pay more attention to Mary’s story; to read and sing her powerful Magnificat; to wonder at the way the sacred and mundane swirl together in her very body–and also in ours.
As we approach the celebration of God’s Incarnation, may you find holy grounding amidst the fear and stress of these days. May you find spiritual companions—historical and contemporary—to guide, challenge, and accompany you. May your spirit know deep joy in God’s saving solidarity.
Rev. Joanna Harader
Bethel College Mennonite Church
North Newton, KS
