Mary teaches

Here is the text of the reflection I shared with the community that gathered in prayer to celebrate the final Sunday of this Advent season.

Set out

Of all the Sundays of the Advent period, this is my favorite one.  I call it Mary’s Sunday.  The gospel readings on this Sunday are always about Mary: the first and most perfect disciple.  Today, she is the one who shows us how to follow Jesus.  Today’s gospel picks up the story after she has had her encounter with the angel Gabriel. 

She had only just heard the surprising news that she herself had been chosen to bear a son, and that her kinswoman Elizabeth was also with child, and she set out and went with haste … to the house of Zechariah where she greeted Elizabeth (cf Lk 1:39).  This is the challenge that the gospel sets out for all of us: set out and go with haste to meet those who need our help; don’t wait for them to come to us.

The weeks leading up to Christmas are supposed to be filled with excitement and anticipation, with arranging social gatherings and wrapping presents, but in all the hype, we can sometimes forget that this is not always a joyous season: there are some for whom this is a painful time.  A number of years ago, I heard about a priest who would visit during the Advent season with grieving families.  Each family who had celebrated a funeral in that parish over the past year would hear a knock at their door.  He set out and went with haste to meet them where they were. 

I don’t know if that was his idea, but I liked what I heard, so I decided to try it.  This year, I knocked at the doors of forty-one homes: we had a lot of funerals over the past year.  In each case, I left a poinsettia, with a note attached.  It’s a simple gesture, but one that I hope will bring some comfort at a time that can be so difficult.

During this Jubilee Year of Mercy, we are being challenged to set out with haste to meet people where they are and to be living signs of God’s mercy for everyone we meet.  It’s not a matter of great and wonderful spectacles; God comes to us right where we are.  The story of that first Christmas took place not in the heart of the city.  It took place in the hill country, in hidden places: You, O Bethlehem … who are one of the little clans of Judea … from you shall come forth one … whose origin is from of old, from ancient days (Mi 5:2).

Within our own families, perhaps there are some who are holding grudges, some who refuse to speak with each other.  Perhaps in the hidden halls of our own homes, we need to find a way to loosen the tongues of those who have been silenced so that words of love and forgiveness can be heard and believed.  Perhaps there are other situations of suffering, or uncertainty and worry and maybe all we can do is to sit quietly beside those who are hurting, so that they know that they are not alone.

On Mary’s Sunday, let us ask her to teach us how to be disciples of Jesus.  Let us ask her to show us how to set out and go with haste to meet those who most need to know God’s mercy in their lives, and most of all, let us ask her to teach us how to be filled with wonder and awe in God’s presence, so that we in our turn can respond to the Lord’s invitation: See God, I have come to do your will … (Heb 5:7).