Mary, Mother of God - Homily 2

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!