To the Immaculate Virgin, On a Winter Night - Written in 1949

Today, I do not have work because in Lebanon there is a national holiday to celebrate the annunciation of the Virgin Mary, mother of Jesus.  This holiday is celebrated especially by the Catholic and Eastern Orthodox sects of Christianity in Lebanon and all over the world.  So, in honor of this holiday, I wanted to share a poem that was written by Thomas Merton, a monk and priest who wrote much poetry in praise and meditation on Mary.  There is conflict between the Catholics and Orthodox and the Protestants about how much emphasis should be put on the Virgin Mary, especially regarding whether it is appropriate to pray to Mary or not.  Let us just take some time to reflect on what we can learn through the example of Mary in the Bible; she was humble, she answered God's call even though it was more difficult than we can imagine, both at the beginning and the end of Jesus' human life.

The words of this poem are directed to Mary in heaven.  Why would a man look around the world, see all the war, destruction and blood, and find that it is most natural, most comforting for himself to speak to Mary, rather than to God or his own priest or friend?

Personally, I come from a mixed family and have been raised in both the Protestant and the Orthodox tradition.  So I can understand the Protestant resistance to praying to Mary as though we needed an intercessor between us and our Lord.  It is true that we need no intercessor and Jesus welcomes us to speak to Him directly and have a relationship with Him.  However, I can also understand that a warmth emanates from each word and verse in the Bible that speaks of Mary and one can see it in the hand of every artist who has ever tried to capture her gentle spirit in a worldly image.  It is impossible.  And isn't it natural for us humans, to want to speak to someone who understands us, who has also known the pain and joy of birth, the judgmental eyes of others and above all, what it is to sit in the midst of evil and suffering and keep our trust in the Lord?

Please, let us Christians not judge each other, but try to understand and be united in our thankfulness that Mary had the faith and the courage to answer God's call.

To the Immaculate Virgin, On a Winter Night

Lady, the night is falling and the dark
Steals all the blood from the scarred west.
The stars come out and freeze my heart
With drops of untouchable music, frail as ice
And bitter as the new year's cross.
Where in the world has any voice
Prayed to you, Lady, for the peace that's in your power?
In a day of blood and many beatings
I see the governments rise up, behind the steel horizon,
And take their weapons and begin to kill.
Where in the world has any city trusted you?
Out where the soldiers camp the guns begin to thump
And another winter time comes down
To seal our years in ice.
The last train cries out
And runs in terror from this farmer's valley
Where all the little birds are dead.
The roads are white, the fields are mute
There are no voices in the wood
And trees make gallows up against the sharp-eyed stars.
Oh where will Christ be killed again
In the land of these dead men?
Lady, the night has got us by the heart
And the whole world is tumbling down.
Words turn to ice in my dry throat
Praying for a land without prayer,
Walking to you on water all winter
In a year that wants more war.