Above is The Annunciation by Henry Ossawa Tanner, painted in 1898. I shared thoughts on this masterpiece in an earlier post which you can read here.

In contrast to Ossawa’s work, below is the Annunciation Triptych (1427-32). It was once known as the Mérode Altarpiece as a tribute to its former owner, Marie-Nicolette de Mérode. It resides at The Met Cloisters in New York City. It is a work attributed to Robert Campin’s workshop. He is from Tournai which is in northern Europe.

Let’s take a closer look. Piece by piece.

To the left are the donors. The man commissioned the work. The woman and the guard at the door were added later. The man and woman are kneeling before the mystery of the Annunciation which has been unlocked for them. You can see this with the key in the keyhole opened from inside.

They are in an enclosed garden known in Latin as hortus conclusus. This idea of an enclosed garden evokes the virginity of Mary. There is great detail in this panel with the birds, green foliage, and rose bushes. Beyond the back door, one can pear into the prosperous city.

Here is a closer look at the oldest part of this triptych, the central event of the Annunciation:

The scene looks like it is a home of a 14th century living room in northern Europe. There is distortion in the use of space. The floor seems too slanted. The point of this is to draw us into private devotion of the scene taking place.

Placing this scene in a home outside of Nazareth is to draw us close to the mystery. Gazing at it makes our prayer more profound. Mary enters our home and we welcome her.

Look closely! I love this piece for the embryo holding the cross coming from the window! It is almost seems comical as it soars from the window with golden rays. It is holding the cross. The embryo makes a straight shot for Mary’s ear. Yes, the Word became flesh because Mary heard the invitation and accepted it.

To the right of this piece you see Saint Joseph in his workshop. The wood, the nails, and the holes pierced by Joseph silently speak of the Lord’s passion. What I find most intriguing is the device to the right of Joseph’s elbow. It is also the same device outside his window. Artists recognize it as a mousetrap. A curious item in Joseph’s workshop. Yet, we tip our hat to Saint Augustine for the clue:

The cross of the Lord was the devil’s mousetrap: the bait which caught him was the Lord’s death (Sermons 261).

This work only stands two feet tall. It was meant for private devotion. It was meant to draw us into the mystery of our salvation.

Pondering these things in our heart, let’s look at a liturgical idea: genuflection.

There are two times we genuflect during the Nicene Creed: Christmas Day and today’s Solemnity of the Annunciation. We genuflect at the words:

and by the Holy Spirit was incarnate of the Virgin Mary, and became man.

Genuflection is a sign of adoration. We fall before the mystery of the Incarnation. At Christmas and at the Annunciation we witness God taking on our flesh. We adore with our hearts and our whole bodies as we bend the knee.

Saint Bernard paints a poetic picture of the Annunciation. It is a homily we hear during the season of Advent. He gives the listener a sense of great anticipation:

You have heard, O Virgin, that you will conceive and bear a son; you have heard that it will not be by man but by the Holy Spirit. The angel awaits an answer; it is time for him to return to God who sent him. We too are waiting, O Lady, for your word of compassion; the sentence of condemnation weighs heavily upon us.

The price of our salvation is offered to you. We shall be set free at once if you consent. In the eternal Word of God we all came to be, and behold, we die. In your brief response we are to be remade in order to be recalled to life.

Tearful Adam with his sorrowing family begs this of you, O loving Virgin, in their exile from Paradise. Abraham begs it, David begs it. All the other holy patriarchs, your ancestors, ask it of you, as they dwell in the country of the shadow of death. This is what the whole earth waits for, prostrate at your feet. It is right in doing so, for on your word depends comfort for the wretched, ransom for the captive, freedom for the condemned, indeed, salvation for all the sons of Adam, the whole of your race.

Answer quickly, O Virgin. Reply in haste to the angel, or rather through the angel to the Lord. Answer with a word, receive the Word of God. Speak your own word, conceive the divine Word. Breathe a passing word, embrace the eternal Word.

Why do you delay, why are you afraid? Believe, give praise, and receive. Let humility be bold, let modesty be confident. This is no time for virginal simplicity to forget prudence. In this matter alone, O prudent Virgin, do not fear to be presumptuous. Though modest silence is pleasing, dutiful speech is now more necessary. Open your heart to faith, O blessed Virgin, your lips to praise, your womb to the Creator. See, the desired of all nations is at your door, knocking to enter. If he should pass by because of your delay, in sorrow you would begin to seek him afresh, the One whom your soul loves. Arise, hasten, open. Arise in faith, hasten in devotion, open in praise and thanksgiving. Behold the handmaid of the Lord, she says, be it done to me according to your word.

We are nine months away from Christmas! This day interrupts the Lenten disciplines and we rejoice! The blood and flesh of the Word is given through Mary’s utter generosity and cooperation. Let the Virgin Mary be our support and guide as we journey through Lent.