Sunday Sermon - 23 December
Being raised with some customary Italian Roman Catholic traditions and perspectives, the Virgin Mary has had a constant presence in my life. I remember as a child, there were images, statues, and icons of Mary all throughout my grandparents’ house. In fact, there was this one big picture of Mary that hung at the back wall of the guest bedroom where I slept.
I’ve since learned that painting is called the “Immaculate Heart of the Virgin Mary”. My grandparents' one, the one that hung at the end of the bed I slept in, was about 3 feet long and 2 feet wide, it was huge for a little kid and, quite frankly, kind of scary.
I’m sure you’ve all seen similar images of Mary depicted in this way, pink skinned, light brown hair, cloaked with a white shawl and blue gown with royal gold inlaid trim, pulling back her shawl to expose a burning heart with a circle of roses. The painting and its depiction, “The Immaculate Heart of the Virgin Mary” is a profoundly important symbol within Catholic devotion, emphasizing Mary's pure and loving heart, her virtues, and her pivotal role in the story of our salvation.
But this was not what young me saw. I remember staring at that painting, not being able to sleep, thinking to myself about this image of Mary and her story. As I grew older, I realized that Mary wouldn’t have looked like that at all. She would have been dark skinned with dark, if not black, hair. She was a humble woman who would have not worn royal garments with gold trim but I’ll give the artist this, she looks kind of young. And that’s the point that stuck with me. How young she was and how scared she must have been.
The exact age of Mary at the time of her betrothal to Joseph and her conception by the Holy Spirit is not explicitly stated in the Bible. However, historical and cultural context provides us with some clues.
In the Jewish culture of the first century, it was common for girls to be betrothed and married in their early to mid-teens. This was a typical age for marriage in that era, as it was considered the appropriate time for young women to start a family. Therefore, it is a commonly held belief that Mary could have been anywhere from 12 to 15 years old. Not much older than I was when I was pondering the plight of Mary at my grandparent’s house.
Let’s just think about her situation in a historic context for a minute.
Mary, young, in her early teens, newly engaged to Joseph, not yet married, is miraculously made pregnant out of wedlock. Joseph, who has the right to divorce her and have her severely punished, if not killed, figures he’ll be discreet and just quietly divorce and leave her. But an angel comes to him and explains that she is still a virgin and is God’s chosen one, her pregnancy is a miracle from God. So he chooses to stay. We don’t hear much about Joseph in the rest of scripture, nowhere near as much as we do about Mary.
There’s something about Mary that constantly preoccupies my thoughts from childhood to this very day. I cannot imagine how scared she must have felt when she was first burdened with God’s purpose for her. She’s so young and she’s expecting a child out of wedlock - a criminal offence, she’ll be a societal outcast, she may even be killed for her perceived sin at best, she’ll be alone.
In today’s Gospel we are reminded of the power of human relationships and the loving connection we are called to share with one other. Today we read that Mary had Elizabeth (a “relative” as Luke tells us, though we don’t know how they are related). Elizabeth is much older, wiser and experienced. She too has been miraculously gifted with an unexpected pregnancy. They have something in common, they share the profound weight of God’s work in their lives.
When Elizabeth greets Mary, she is overjoyed and full of the Holy Spirit. She welcomes Mary with loving energy, so much so that the baby within her leaps, and she rejoices, praising God. Mary rejoices in return and says the words we now know as the Magnificat, the Song of Mary, which we read in today’s Gospel.
When I think of Mary now, I don’t think of a scared young woman. I think of a young woman with an older friend and mentor who cares for her and is joined with her on their sacred journey together. I also think that this is the message for us all today as we trek through the final days of our Advent journeys.
On the Second Sunday of Advent I spoke about how Christmas can be hard. How many of us find this season of joy a season of sadness and I closed with the fact that we are not alone, we are a community of love that supports and upholds one another through our moments of sadness, loneliness, and pain. Today we are made aware that Elizabeth’s love and support for Mary is a model for us.
In Mary and Elizabeth’s love for one another we are reminded of the importance of our relationships and our obligation to recognize and celebrate God’s work in our lives. But that’s not all. It’s relatively easy to celebrate and rejoice in God’s work in our lives when it makes sense, is positive, and we understand God’s purpose for us. It’s another story when life gets hard and messy, when we are in pain and suffering, when we have lost sight of God’s purpose for us. It’s hard to rejoice and sing songs to God when we feel lost, alone and afraid.
With that in mind, I’d like to further highlight a couple of points about today’s Gospel.
Today’s Gospel picks up right after Mary has been visited by the angel. Luke says she was afraid and she even poses some questions to the angel Gabriel. Gabriel tells her that her “relative” is also pregnant, letting Mary know that she’s not alone with her sacred burden.
Immediately after Gabriel leaves, Luke reports that Mary left “with haste” to visit Elizabeth. She took immediate action, she took it upon herself to seek out Elizabeth for understanding and support.
In this story, as Christians, as members of this parish, we are reminded that, despite how alone we may feel, we are not alone. When we are scared, unsure of God’s purpose for us, when we feel lost on our journey in life, we have the Elizabeths in our life to turn to. But, the onus is on us. We must take action, like Mary, and take it upon ourselves to reach out, in haste, when we are in need. We cannot expect others to always know our feelings, it is okay to ask for help. In fact, we are obligated to do so.
Also, in this story, as Christians, as members of this parish, we are reminded that we are all “relatives” in Christ. We all are to be the Elizabeths in the lives of those who turn to us for love and support. When those in need come to us for experiential wisdom and guidance, and are feeling alone, lost and scared, we are called to love and support them through their pain, to help ease their suffering and remind them that they are not alone. This, our treatment of others, is how we can be Elizabeth and how we emanate God’s love from us into the lives of others.
Elizabeth and Mary were blessed by God to bear children - our patron prophet, St. John the Baptist, and our Messiah, Jesus the Christ, respectively. It is important to note that God also blessed them with the gift of each other. Just as we are blessed with the gift of one another.
On this last day of Advent, this season of preparation and celebration, let us celebrate the gift of each other. Let our souls magnify the Lord. Let our spirits rejoice in God our Saviour. For God has done great things for us and Holy is His name.
Amen.