Today's gospel tells us of Mary's "Yes" to the invitation of the Archangel Gabriel. At the time a very young woman--perhaps just having entered her teenage years--Mary quite understandably offered the Archangel sound reasons why it wouldn't be possible for this invitation to be fulfilled because, after all, it would require God to contravene Nature's laws. Yet, Mary didn't allow those understandably good reasons to dissuade her from trusting God, responding "Yes" despite not knowing anything of or having been given any promise regarding the destiny awaiting her.
I don't know why but we oftentimes believe that saying "Yes" to God's invitation, as Mary did, will inevitably result in great happiness. But, the simple fact that scripture teaches us is that Mary's “Yes” didn't open the door to much happiness at all. Instead, it opened the door to many sorrows--seven "dolors," scripture attests--that provided Mary an ongoing, continuous test of her fidelity of making that "Yes" incarnate at each step along her journey.
In this regard, what's truly remarkable about Mary is how--despite the fact she doesn't oftentimes understand what's going on in her life--scripture portrays her. Mary isn't portrayed as rebellious. She also doesn't accuse God of infidelity. Moreover, Mary doesn't mope around feeling sorry for herself. Instead, scripture portrays Mary as meditating upon every word and event...especially the bad ones. She "treasures" all of these things, scripture states, in her heart.
Mary didn't give her "Yes" with conditions, thereby making an iron-clad contract with God. No, Mary's "Yes" was a promise to God--her word would be made flesh--that she would remain faithful to it.
In this way, the image of Mary conveyed by scripture challenges each and everyone of us.
Instead of getting depressed when the uncertainties, challenges, and difficulties of life--especially when everything seems to have gone completely the wrong way--Mary teaches us a particular way to live each day: Instead of protesting that we didn't deserve the very bad hand of cards that life has dealt us and spending our days moping around and feeling sorry for ourselves, we must consider all of those things in our hearts. In short, we must listen attentively and ponder what life presents--its happy days, yes, but more importantly, its sad days--none of which any of us would ever have chosen to confront. The challenge confronting us, like the challenge confronting Mary, is to make our word--our "Yes"--flesh by remaining faithful.
As good and important as that lesson is for all of us, I don't think that's the entirety of what scripture is teaching us in this particular portrait of Mary. Why? As Mary listens to what life presents--especially its sad days--she seeks to understand what all of that means for her life. Not allowing those sad days to generate doubt that sinks into despair, Mary remains hopeful that God is present to her...even as Mary watches on as her son is executed. In this way, scripture teaches us not of Mary's tears when each of those seven sorrows confronted her but of a crucial relationship: The relationship of listening and hope.
Have you ever consider that relationship? When bad days occur and the darkness seems overwhelming, there's a choice to be made. We can allow sorrow and self-pity to lead us to doubt and despair, spending our days wallowing in the darkness that inevitably ends in death. Or, following Mary's lead by listening and hoping, we can choose to seek the light that's shining in the darkness.
In this regard, consider scripture's portrait of the Wise Men. Coming to the realization that everything they had been taught, learned, and sincerely believed to be the truth but discovered it wasn't, had the effect of plunging them into darkness...as dark as the darkness of night. But, rather than feeling sorry for themselves and contemplating all of time and energy they had wasted, the Wise Men--scientists that they were--listened instead to understand what all of that meant. Then, they decided to seek the light that was shining in the darkness and eventually led them to Bethlehem.
Having no guarantee of what the future would bring yet remaining faithfully present to God in the darkness of the sorrow of her bad days, Mary continuously reaffirmed the "Yes" she uttered to the Archangel Gabriel. She chose to continue to pursue and fulfill her vocation to be God's handmaiden and to live each of her days full of hope as she sought the light in the darkness. And, just like the Magi, Mary's hopeful expectation was fulfilled when she was enveloped by the light of the Resurrection of her son.
On this Solemnity of Mary's Immaculate Conception, scripture's portrait of Mary's "Yes" teaches us of one particular way Mary didn't sin. Always listening carefully to the events of her days--especially the bad ones--the Incarnation of God's only begotten Son begot hope not just in Mary but also for all humanity. In this way, Mary is the not only the "Mother of God" but also the "Mother of Hope," as Pope Francis has reminded us.
When everything appears to make absolutely no sense and the future looks bleak if not dark as a night with no stars or moon to guide us, we can choose to allow that darkness to envelop us. We can also choose to live our days wallowing in self-pity, full of gripes and complaints about the bad hand of cards God has dealt us. However, scripture's portrait of Mary offers another choice: To listen and live in hope that we also will be enveloped by the light of the Resurrection.
In this way, and like Mary, as we listen to those events--and especially the bad ones--we continuously make our "Yes" incarnate in our lives. We do so not expecting our days to be filled with happiness. No, our expectation is that as we remain faithful to God, the Word made Flesh in us will eventually envelop us in the light of the Resurrection.
Inspired by Mary, as we "do this," may others see in our fidelity a reason to listen and live in hope that the Word made Flesh will dwell in them and they evenutually will also be enveloped in the light of the Resurrection.
I don't know why but we oftentimes believe that saying "Yes" to God's invitation, as Mary did, will inevitably result in great happiness. But, the simple fact that scripture teaches us is that Mary's “Yes” didn't open the door to much happiness at all. Instead, it opened the door to many sorrows--seven "dolors," scripture attests--that provided Mary an ongoing, continuous test of her fidelity of making that "Yes" incarnate at each step along her journey.
In this regard, what's truly remarkable about Mary is how--despite the fact she doesn't oftentimes understand what's going on in her life--scripture portrays her. Mary isn't portrayed as rebellious. She also doesn't accuse God of infidelity. Moreover, Mary doesn't mope around feeling sorry for herself. Instead, scripture portrays Mary as meditating upon every word and event...especially the bad ones. She "treasures" all of these things, scripture states, in her heart.
Mary didn't give her "Yes" with conditions, thereby making an iron-clad contract with God. No, Mary's "Yes" was a promise to God--her word would be made flesh--that she would remain faithful to it.
In this way, the image of Mary conveyed by scripture challenges each and everyone of us.
Instead of getting depressed when the uncertainties, challenges, and difficulties of life--especially when everything seems to have gone completely the wrong way--Mary teaches us a particular way to live each day: Instead of protesting that we didn't deserve the very bad hand of cards that life has dealt us and spending our days moping around and feeling sorry for ourselves, we must consider all of those things in our hearts. In short, we must listen attentively and ponder what life presents--its happy days, yes, but more importantly, its sad days--none of which any of us would ever have chosen to confront. The challenge confronting us, like the challenge confronting Mary, is to make our word--our "Yes"--flesh by remaining faithful.
As good and important as that lesson is for all of us, I don't think that's the entirety of what scripture is teaching us in this particular portrait of Mary. Why? As Mary listens to what life presents--especially its sad days--she seeks to understand what all of that means for her life. Not allowing those sad days to generate doubt that sinks into despair, Mary remains hopeful that God is present to her...even as Mary watches on as her son is executed. In this way, scripture teaches us not of Mary's tears when each of those seven sorrows confronted her but of a crucial relationship: The relationship of listening and hope.
Have you ever consider that relationship? When bad days occur and the darkness seems overwhelming, there's a choice to be made. We can allow sorrow and self-pity to lead us to doubt and despair, spending our days wallowing in the darkness that inevitably ends in death. Or, following Mary's lead by listening and hoping, we can choose to seek the light that's shining in the darkness.
In this regard, consider scripture's portrait of the Wise Men. Coming to the realization that everything they had been taught, learned, and sincerely believed to be the truth but discovered it wasn't, had the effect of plunging them into darkness...as dark as the darkness of night. But, rather than feeling sorry for themselves and contemplating all of time and energy they had wasted, the Wise Men--scientists that they were--listened instead to understand what all of that meant. Then, they decided to seek the light that was shining in the darkness and eventually led them to Bethlehem.
Having no guarantee of what the future would bring yet remaining faithfully present to God in the darkness of the sorrow of her bad days, Mary continuously reaffirmed the "Yes" she uttered to the Archangel Gabriel. She chose to continue to pursue and fulfill her vocation to be God's handmaiden and to live each of her days full of hope as she sought the light in the darkness. And, just like the Magi, Mary's hopeful expectation was fulfilled when she was enveloped by the light of the Resurrection of her son.
On this Solemnity of Mary's Immaculate Conception, scripture's portrait of Mary's "Yes" teaches us of one particular way Mary didn't sin. Always listening carefully to the events of her days--especially the bad ones--the Incarnation of God's only begotten Son begot hope not just in Mary but also for all humanity. In this way, Mary is the not only the "Mother of God" but also the "Mother of Hope," as Pope Francis has reminded us.
When everything appears to make absolutely no sense and the future looks bleak if not dark as a night with no stars or moon to guide us, we can choose to allow that darkness to envelop us. We can also choose to live our days wallowing in self-pity, full of gripes and complaints about the bad hand of cards God has dealt us. However, scripture's portrait of Mary offers another choice: To listen and live in hope that we also will be enveloped by the light of the Resurrection.
In this way, and like Mary, as we listen to those events--and especially the bad ones--we continuously make our "Yes" incarnate in our lives. We do so not expecting our days to be filled with happiness. No, our expectation is that as we remain faithful to God, the Word made Flesh in us will eventually envelop us in the light of the Resurrection.
Inspired by Mary, as we "do this," may others see in our fidelity a reason to listen and live in hope that the Word made Flesh will dwell in them and they evenutually will also be enveloped in the light of the Resurrection.
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