Mary, Mother of God

See commentary on Luke 2:16-21 in Luke 2:1-21.

Homily 1 - 2017

I am wary of New Year resolutions. Not that we do not need discipline in our lives, but thinking as a Christian, it is not so much what I do that matters but why. For example, two people, after realizing how much they over-indulged over the Christmas period, may resolve to go on a diet. One may do it because he is disgusted with his waist-line, and hates having a fat body. The other may do it because she genuinely respects her body and gently realizes that she has failed to do so. For one the response expresses self-rejection, even self-hatred. For the other the same response expresses self-respect, self-appreciation, even a genuine self-love. Or again, two people may volunteer to work in some community service organization. One may do it because she sees Jesus in a person in need and wants to store up a bit more merit for herself. Another does it because he just sees a person in need and respects the shared humanity of that person. In the one case there is a level of self-interest, in the other simple compassion for the other. They are different. How would you assess them?

Jesus said, “Do unto others as you have them do unto you.” Was he referring to people’s motivation for doing good - sort of, “You scratch my back, then I’ll scratch yours”? Or was he simply providing an easy guide for how to put love of others into practice.

Does it matter? Personally, I think there is a world of difference. I believe that as a Christian, my immediate priority is not what I am doing, but what kind of person I am hoping to become: one absorbed by the pursuit of personal perfection, or one learning to respect, hopefully even to love, other persons simply as they are [and that includes gently respecting and loving myself].

How I relate to the world is very much a factor of how I see the world. When Jesus came among us, his first invitation to us was to allow our capacity to see to expand and to deepen. The word he used is often translated as “Repent” or “Convert” – but that misses the point. He was referring to how we see our world. Later in the Gospel, he alerted his hearers to the problem of seeing the splinter in the eye of the other while being totally unaware of the log interfering with their own vision. One spiritual author whose wisdom I greatly admire often repeats the mantra, “How you see one is how you see everyone”. It reveals more about what you are than what they are.

As today we celebrate Mary, it might be appropriate to ask, “What was Mary like?” In the light of what I have just said, my answer is more likely to tell you what I am like that what she is. So, be warned.

One of the few things the Gospels tell us about Mary’s personal behavior was mentioned there in today’s passage, “As for Mary, she treasured all these things and pondered them in her heart.” What did it do to her? The Gospels don’t tell us; but if it was already a custom of hers, it may explain why she was able trustingly to say to Gabriel, “Be it done unto me according to your word”, and why, when she met Elizabeth and became filled with the Holy Spirit, she loudly exulted in God her Saviour, the God she spontaneously identified as being on the side of the little ones. Her pondering on life in the still depth of her heart had resulted in a profound self-awareness, a profoundly sensitive world-awareness, and a deep insight into and trust in God.

It has been my old year resolution; it is my New Year resolution; it will be my everyday resolution: like Mary, with Mary, to treasure the experiences of life and to ponder them respectfully, not in my head but in the quiet reaches of my heart. You might try something similar yourselves.

Homily 2 - 2023

I find it increasingly difficult these days to come up with a fresh angle on the big feasts — something that I feel that I really want to share. Over-familiarity annoyingly makes it too easy for me to take even the most precious things for granted.

I try to listen to my own advice and follow the lead of Mary who, as we heard again in today’s Gospel, “treasured” her experience and “pondered it in her heart”. But, these days, I find that I get tired easily, and fall off to sleep far too often, especially when I sit down to pray. I used to get concerned about that at first, but notice now that it only serves to remind me that God is the important one in any prayer session, and that it is this pretty hopeless me that God loves with an unconditional, ceaseless and infinitely personal love, whether I fall asleep or stay awake. Even my desire to pray and the energy that gets me there seem to be the totally unmerited gifts of God. So I have decided that, at least in my case, falling asleep as I pray is a good thing, serving to put me in my place and keep me contentedly there.

However, just a couple of days ago, I came across excerpts of an article on a Christmas theme that I hope get you thinking as much as they did me. It was written by a young[ish] female American theologian. 
“… I am more aware than ever of the startling and profound reality that I am a Christian not because of anything I’ve done but because a teenage girl living in occupied Palestine at one of the most dangerous moments in history said yes—yes to God, yes to a wholehearted call she could not possibly understand, yes to vulnerability in the face of societal judgment . . . yes to a vision for herself and her little boy of a mission that would bring down rulers and lift up the humble, that would turn away the rich and fill the hungry with good things, that would scatter the proud and gather the lowly… yes to a life that came with no guarantee of her safety or her son’s…
And then she went on to make a further point:
… It is nearly impossible to believe: God shrinking down to the size of a zygote, implanted in the soft lining of a woman’s womb. God growing fingers and toes. God kicking and hiccupping in utero. God inching down the birth canal and entering this world covered in blood, perhaps into the steady, waiting arms of a midwife. God crying out in hunger. God reaching for his mother’s breasts. God totally relaxed, eyes closed, his chubby little arms raised over his head in a posture of complete trust. God resting in his mother’s lap…
…  Before Jesus fed us with the bread and the wine, the body and the blood, Jesus himself needed to be fed, by a woman. He needed a woman to say: “This is my body, given for you.”

I feel a bit envious of someone like this young woman whose pondering brought her to a precious insight that resonated deeply with her, and that she found worth getting excited about — so much so that she wanted to get her readers personally involved too. She succeeded with me. I hope she gets you pondering also. It may be a way to ensure a Happy New Year!