Tag: Mary

  • The Three Consolations: Thursday of the 3rd Week of Advent

    Judges 13:2-7, 24-25a; Luke 1:5-25

    I remember once years ago sitting with my mother, watching TV. The shows were full of young people and I jokingly remarked, “I guess no one over 40 can be on TV.” Mom saw no humor in it; she replied, “Our society has no use for us older people, especially women. In their eyes, once we’re past childbearing age we’ve outlived our usefulness.”

    That got me thinking about the Hebrew world of today’s readings. Elizabeth and the mother of Sampson could probably identify with my mother’s feelings. They lived in a culture where barrenness was seen by many as a punishment from God (Genesis 16:2, 20:18). For such women the future was bleak; nothing but loneliness and insecurity to look forward to. No wonder some of them were prompted to despair (Genesis 30:1).

    Especially during seasons such as Advent and Christmas when we exalt the virtue of hope, people still fall prey to the loneliness, depression, and anxiety that lead to despair. Rather than consolation they are in desolation, the sense that God sees our hopelessness yet has abandoned us, left us in the dark, and is never coming back. We cannot see that it is only an inner sense and not the outward reality; the voice of the Prince of Lies telling us we are worthless, that God doesn’t love us and is far, far away. The truth is that God is as near as our next breath and loves us so much that we are worth dying for.

    It is the wait that fools us. If God loves us so much, why do we seem to wait forever for him to answer? The women in the readings must have wondered the same thing. Day after day, week after week, year after year they waited; still no answer. It would have been easy to give up. Yet what does Scripture say? Elizabeth, like her husband, was “righteous in the eyes of God, observing all the commandments and ordinances of the Lord blamelessly” (Luke 1:6).

    In other words Elizabeth persevered, and it was this that kept her from falling into despair. This is a lesson for us. We too must not only endure times of desolation but use them to strengthen our spiritual gifts. We cannot learn prudence when the way is always clear, justice when all is fair, fortitude when times are easy, or temperance when we get everything in just the right amount. We cannot strengthen our faith when all is seen, or charity when all is given. In the same way, the virtue of hope grows stronger as we persevere in waiting and through that perseverance appreciate ever more deeply the coming of that which we most long for: Unity with God, the object of our hope. Desolation is not the time to turn away from God but toward him; to reinvigorate our hope in the everlasting joy of heaven. The time is now, for Advent is the definitive season of waiting, when hope longs to be rekindled.

    stained-glass-4522405_640The great gift of fertility given to Samson’s mother and to Elizabeth are confirmation that perseverance is rewarded. God sees all of us who endure desolation and, in his own time and manner, provides from the storehouse of his infinite mercy the life-giving consolation of his Spirit. When we find ourselves in times of desolation remember to ask the intercession of St. Elizabeth; she understands very well not only the pain of endless waiting but also the indescribable joy of the Holy Spirit’s three priceless consolations: The new life of St. John within her womb; the love and help of Mary, the Mother of Hope; and most of all the fulfillment of Hope itself: Our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ.

    St. Elizabeth, pray for us.

  • Our Mother, Clothed With the Sun: Feast of Our Lady of Guadalupe

    Revelation 11:19a; 12:1-6a, 10ab; Luke 1:39-47

    The book of Revelation is apocalyptic literature. This was a genre used in and around the time of Christ. It is overloaded with rich and mystical symbolism; a single image may represent multiple things. Further, the imagery can be violent and warlike, even though its ultimate message is one of hope and peace.

    In the passage of Revelation chosen for today’s feast lurks a huge red dragon. The Hebrew word translated as dragon can also mean “serpent” or “sea monster” and is thought to represent the devil and the forces of evil, ready to make war against the Christ and his Church.

    In late 15th century Mexico, the Spanish conquistador Cortez saw echoes of that dragon in the violent, warlike Aztec religion. Every year, thousands of people were sacrificed to appease its bloodthirsty gods. In 1487, the dedication of a new pagan temple saw 80,000 people sacrificed in just a few days. As if that weren’t bad enough, the dragon’s shadow also appeared in some of the immigrants to the new world, who spoke of peace but practiced avarice, treating the Mexicans and their land as things to be exploited for personal gain. Even some within the Church hindered the spread of the gospel by refusing vocations from the local community; Catholic Mexicans were not allowed to minister to their own people. It’s not hard to understand why many resisted converting to Catholicism.

    If a reflection of the dragon could be found in the new world, so could a reflection of the woman. In 1531, a mystical apparition identified herself as “the ever Virgin, Holy Mary, the Mother of God” to a middle-aged Mexican man named Juan Diego. In Revelation, the woman was clothed with the sun, the moon under her feet, and wore a crown of stars. The apparition at Tepeyac is also rich in symbolism, but it is all Aztec. The woman stands in front of the sun, eclipsing the Aztec sun god; her foot rests on the moon, dominating their chief god, Quetzalcoatl; her mantle holds the stars, which they worshiped. Yet, the woman is not divine; her hands are in a posture of prayer and she looks down, which Aztec gods never do. She is a queen, for she wears the Aztec royal color of turquoise; a Christian, for there is a cross on her brooch, is pregnant, for she wears an Aztec maternity belt; yet she is a divine mother, for over her womb appears a four-petal flower, the Aztec symbol of a deity.

    As important as her image was, her words were far more so; for what she said, how she said it, and who she said it to. She spoke in the language of the Aztecs, not in Spanish; she spoke to a simple peasant, and through him to all people; her message was one of comfort and hope: She was there; she was their mother; she held them in her arms, heard their weeping, and knew of their hardships and sorrows. Above all, she wanted them to rest assured that through her intercession they would be healed.

    our-lady-of-guadalupe-4542831_1920She became known as Our Lady of Guadalupe, and as word of the miraculous appearance and image spread, she became the most effective tool of evangelization that Mexico or the world had ever known. In the gospel, Mary carried the Eternal Word into the Judean countryside where the babe within Elizabeth’s womb leaped for joy; 15 centuries later, Mary’s maternal word went out into the Mexican countryside where millions leaped for joy. Conversions increased so dramatically that for a couple of years the missionaries could almost not keep up with them. More than that, the peoples’ faith was strong; to this day, the faith of the Mexican people remains vibrant, with deep devotion to Our Lady of Guadalupe.

    In our own time the dragon still lurks. We do not have thousands dying in pagan temples, but we do have millions dying in abortion mills here and throughout the world. Still, the image of Our Lady of Guadalupe reminds us that the woman of Revelation is still present, still giving birth to the Church, still giving her ever victorious Son to the world. As she comforted the Mexican people, so she consoles us. She is our mother; she holds us in her arms; knows of our hardships and sorrows, and assures us that through her intercession, we too will be healed by Christ, her son.

    Our Lady of Guadalupe, pray for us.

  • Mother and Disciple: The Feast of the Presentation of the Blessed Virgin Mary

    Zechariah 2:14-17; Matthew 12:46-50

    We may hear today’s gospel and wonder how any son could treat his mother like that, let alone the Son of God. Hearing that his mother is outside he doesn’t stop speaking and invite her in; rather, he uses her appearance to make the point that everyone who does the will of God is his mother. Shouldn’t Mary be insulted?

    No. She is doubly honored.

    First, remember that this is not just any son; this is Jesus, the only-begotten Son of God. Engaged in the mission for which he was sent, the salvation of souls, he was speaking about radical fidelity to the will of God. Faith binds us to Christ and to each other with a love born not in the blood of kinship but in his own precious blood. If his teaching shocked people, so be it. His point was not about Mary’s faithfulness, it was about ours.

    Indeed, faithfulness is her first honor. As St. Augustine said, Mary conceived her Son in faith before she conceived him in her womb. We think of her as his mother and rightly so for it was by her fiat that he came into the world, but we must also remember that she was his first and best disciple. Mary is the only person to appear in the gospels from before his conception until the coming of the Holy Spirit at Pentecost.

    It may seem ironic that from the faithful dwelling of her motherhood Mary invited him in yet he, her Son, refused to return the favor. But again Mary loved him as both mother and disciple. As mother she might feel the sting of his words as he broadened “family” from the ties of blood to those of faith, but as disciple she knew and lived their truth. Despite whatever personal pain the truth may cause it is always the source of joy, for joy is happiness in pursuit of the good and Mary lived her life in hope of attaining the greatest good: Eternal union in heaven with God who is love.

    Love is the second honor of Mary. Only through love do we live life to the full and this necessarily includes all the joys and sorrows that go with it. We might think that in his mercy Christ would spare his own mother the pain of suffering but actually the opposite is true: He loved her too much to deprive her of it. What kind of love knows no sorrow, feels no pain, and never suffers? Rightly is Mary the Mother of Sorrows for in her great love she suffered many times over, from the mystical sword that pierced her heart to her Son’s burial in the tomb. Yet as Scripture reminds us, love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things (1 Corinthians 13:7) and is as deep as death (Song of Songs 8:6); Mary’s love for Jesus could not be broken by any boundary of space or time, but did reach perfection in his love for her: her own glorious Assumption.

    stained-glass-4506616_640The two themes of fidelity and love are interwoven in the feast of the Presentation of the Blessed Virgin Mary. The presentation of oneself to God is an act of great faith and deep love. Whether Mary demonstrated her faith and love in a formal consecration to God in the Temple as described in the ancient non-biblical documents is irrelevant. Every day of Mary’s life was a presentation, a self-offering, an abandonment to the divine will made possible by the movement of grace within her. Long before he dwelled within her womb, indeed from the moment of her immaculate conception, our Lord dwelled within her soul and bestowed upon it the fullness of grace, his very life. By her response to that grace, Mary most truly defines what it means to be a Temple of the Holy Spirit.

    What does all this mean for us? It means that as Mary has done so we are invited to do. St. Paul said, “Do you not know that you are the temple of God, and that the Spirit of God dwells in you? … Therefore, glorify God in your body” (1 Corinthians 3:16, 6:20). May we never forget that every time we receive Holy Communion we present ourselves to God in an act of faith and love like Mary his handmaid, that we too may glorify God in our bodies.

    Blessed Mother intercede for us, that like you we may be among those to whom Christ says, “whoever does the will of my heavenly Father is my brother, and sister, and mother” (Matthew 12:50).

  • The Hope of Happiness: Saturday of the 27th Week in Ordinary Time

    Joel 4:12-21; Luke 11:27-28

    In the reading from the prophet Joel, God vanquishes the enemies of Judah and the land produces in overflowing abundance. As the earlier chapters of this book make clear, a famine brought on by a plague of locusts had ravaged the land, both city and countryside. The images offered by Joel of a conquering, provident God were a hope-filled reflection of this suffering people’s desire to know that God was dwelling among them; in other words, this is how they wanted their prayers answered, in security and abundance.

    We are not so different from them. In our own prayers we ask God to do things like conquer our foes, provide abundant harvests, heal us or those we love. We speak of our prayers being answered and we give thanks to God when the enemy is gone, the harvest is good, and we or someone for whom we have prayed does in fact recover.

    On one level, there is nothing wrong with that. God does keep us secure; does provide for us; does heal. For this, we can and must give thanks.

    There is a deeper level though, and Jesus points us toward it in today’s gospel. When a woman blessed the womb that bore him and the breasts that nursed him, Jesus replied that Mary was blessed because, as his first disciple, she heard the word of God and did it. As St. Augustine said, Mary conceived in her heart before she conceived in her womb.

    This is the deeper level on which Jesus focuses our attention. Although we can pray that things go the way we want them to, the most fruitful prayer is that our will be aligned to the will of God. This was Mary’s prayer when she said, May it be done to me according to your word (Luke 1:38); it was Christ’s prayer when he said not my will but yours be done (Luke 22:42b). This doesn’t mean that we are happy if and when catastrophe strikes, but it does mean that we hear the word of God and do it, keeping in mind that he has also said, I know well the plans I have in mind for you … plans for your welfare and not for woe, so as to give you a future of hope (Jeremiah 29:11).

    maria-100112_1280As the Catechism teaches, hope is “the theological virtue by which we desire the kingdom of heaven and eternal life as our happiness, placing our trust in Christ’s promises and relying not on our own strength” (CCC 1817). Joel pointed toward Christ our hope when he spoke of the spring that will rise from the house of the LORD (Joel 4:18b). This is the hope of life that springs eternal; the happiness to which Mary was united at the end of her earthly life; the hope of happiness that we desire. May we unite our wills to the will of God as she did, and may it be done to us according to his Word.

  • Memory and Reality: Memorial of Sts. Joachim and Anne

    Sirach 44:1, 10-15; Matthew 13:16-17

    One of my sisters recently found an old family video and circulated a copy through the internet. It was from a Christmas well over 30 years ago and showed my two sisters, my sister’s one year-old son, my Mom and Dad, and one of my daughters.

    I wasn’t good for much after watching it even for a few minutes. Seeing my Dad really moved me. He passed away less than two years after that film. I had memories of him – his voice, mannerisms, the twinkle in his eyes – but when I saw him it was amazing how dim my memories actually were. Equally startling was seeing my daughter. Of course, I remember her as a 4 year old but the video was showing me the actual kid. Once again, it struck me how much my memory was a poor, faded version of the wonderful reality.

    Salvation history is not much different. In the first reading, Ben Sira speaks of those ancestors who will never be forgotten (Sirach 44:10). These were the godly people to whom God spoke in partial and various ways (Hebrews 1:1) and who, century after century, handed down the tradition to those who came after. From the most ancient time when God walked with man in the Garden and later spoke of the woman’s seed who would crush the head of the serpent (Genesis 3:15) onward – through Abraham, Moses, David, Solomon, from first prophet to the last – the wealth of salvation history, which was still alive and waiting to be realized had, like my memory, become a faded version of the original reality.

    cloud-143152_640Today we honor Saints Joachim and Anne, the parents of Mary, for many reasons related to salvation in memory and reality. Most especially we honor them as husband and wife, for it was their marriage, their union that produced the Immaculate Conception, which transformed the dim, distant memory of salvation into a living, breathing, crystal clear reality. We also honor them because, as the last of that long line of generations who patiently waited through the long night for the first rays of salvation’s dawn, doing so honors all the faithful who lived through and, in whatever ways they could, passed on the events of salvation history to those who came after. Finally, we honor them as parents, for they raised their daughter in the faith, taught her the love and goodness of God, and instilled in her the devotion He preferred for the mother of His Only Son.

    The words of Jesus in today’s gospel are a fitting tribute to Sts. Joachim and Anne:

    Blessed are your eyes, because they see, and your ears, because they hear. Amen, I say to you, many prophets and righteous people longed to see what you see but did not see it, and to hear what you hear but did not hear it. (Matthew 13:16-17)

    Sts. Joachim and Anne, pray for us.

  • True Charisma – The Feast of the Visitation

    Romans 12:9-16; Luke 1:39-56

    They call it stage presence in the theatre; in movies, star quality. We may know it as charisma, or perhaps in French as je ne sais quoi. By whatever name, it is that “certain something” that some people seem to be born with and others long to acquire, that ability to command attention from the moment they step into the scene. Today, as we meditate on the scene in Sacred Scripture we call the Visitation, we see that even from the womb our Blessed Lord has the ability to make his presence felt.

    Of course, the first to feel the presence of Christ is Mary, his mother. Paul reminded us in the first reading that we are to let love be sincere… to love one another with mutual affection; anticipate one another in showing honor (Romans 12:9-10). Soon after learning that she is pregnant with the Son of God, Mary goes “in haste” to visit Elizabeth, pregnant with His forerunner. The most sincere love, the deepest honor Mary could show, was to bring her the very presence of Christ. This is what mission in the Church has always been: the desire to bring Christ to people and allow Him to move them in His own inscrutable ways.

    John is the first to be moved, and that literally. Research shows that infants of his age in the womb hear and react to all kinds of sounds around them. For John, already gifted with great sensitivity to the divine presence, the mere sound of Mary’s voice was enough to animate him and send him into ecstasy. From the moment he was filled with the Holy Spirit, John became the epitome of St. Paul’s words, Do not grow slack in zeal, be fervent in spirit, serve the Lord (Romans 12:11). John would serve Christ to the death.

    Mary’s greeting also moved Elizabeth. When St. Paul said, Rejoice in hope, endure in affliction, persevere in prayer (Romans 12:12), it almost seems as if he was thinking of her. For many years Elizabeth endured the affliction of barrenness; nevertheless, as a righteous daughter of Aaron she also persevered in prayer (Luke 1:5-7). Now, she reaped the reward of rejoicing in the presence of Christ who is Hope and filled with the Holy Spirit was privileged to be the first to call Mary the Mother of our Lord (Luke 1:43).

    virgin-mary-2234532_640The first reading closes with this exhortation from St. Paul: Rejoice with those who rejoice, weep with those who weep. Have the same regard for one another; do not be haughty but associate with the lowly; do not be wise in your own estimation (Romans 12:15-16). What better or more fitting words are there to describe her whose very soul rejoices in God, her Savior? In the fullness of the grace bestowed on her as a singular gift of God and there visiting Elizabeth and pregnant with the Christ-child, Mary is the very answer to the question Nathanael would ask, “Can anything good come from Nazareth (John 1:46)?” Anything good, indeed! Only she, who by her fiat consented to bring the world Goodness itself; she, not wise in the world’s estimation yet wise enough to leave us with the best advice a mother could tell her children, Do whatever he tells you (John 2:5).