Tuesday in the Third Week of Advent, December 16, 2025

Matthew 21, 28-32

Jesus said to the chief priests and the elders of the people: “What is your opinion? A man had two sons. He came to the first and said, ‘Son, go out and work in the vineyard today.’ The son said in reply, ‘I will not,’ but afterwards he changed his mind and went. The man came to the other son and gave the same order. He said in reply, ‘Yes, sir,’ but did not go. Which of the two did his father’s will?” They answered, “The first.” Jesus said to them, “Amen, I say to you, tax collectors and prostitutes are entering the Kingdom of God before you. When John came to you in the way of righteousness, you did not believe him; but tax collectors and prostitutes did. Yet even when you saw that, you did not later change your minds and believe him.”

(Sunday night I mistakingly posted a reflection I had written thinking that the next day was Tuesday. I realized my mistake Monday morning and wrote and posted one for the correct day’s Gospel Reading. Rather than post again the reflection I had originally posted I have written a completely new one, which I am posting Monday evening. I’m sorry for the confusion. The days go so fast!)

This parable is unsettling precisely because it refuses to flatter anyone who hears it. Jesus tells it not to sinners on the margins, but to chief priests and elders—to those who know the law, speak the right words, and inhabit positions of religious authority. And he begins disarmingly: “What is your opinion?” He draws them into judgment before revealing that they themselves stand under it.

The first son says what many of us secretly feel: “I will not.” His refusal is blunt, even rude. It lacks polish and piety. But it has one saving feature — it is honest. There is no performance here, no religious varnish. And because it is honest, it can be repented of. Something happens afterward. The son changes his mind. The Greek suggests a real interior reversal, not mere regret but a turning of intention. He goes. He does the will of his father.

The second son is very different. He says all the right things. “Yes, sir.” The words are respectful, even devout. From the outside, he looks like the obedient one. But nothing follows. His obedience exists only in speech. His “yes” is a substitute for action, and once spoken, it seems to satisfy him. There is no change, no movement, no vineyard dust on his hands.

Jesus’ question is simple: Which one did the father’s will? The answer is obvious—and the leaders answer correctly. But in answering, they condemn themselves. For they are the second son.

This is where the parable becomes sharp. Jesus does not accuse them of open rebellion, but of something more dangerous: religious inertia. They say “yes” to God in principle. They assent to righteousness in theory. They speak fluently about obedience. But when the call comes in a concrete form — when John the Baptist appears, calling for repentance—they do not move. They do not change their minds. They do not go.

And then comes the truly scandalous line: “Tax collectors and prostitutes are entering the Kingdom of God before you.” Not because their sins are smaller — they are not — but because they believed John. They recognized the truth when it confronted them. Their lives were visibly disordered, but their hearts were still capable of turning. They did not confuse words with obedience. When repentance was offered, they took it.

Jesus adds something even more damning: “Even when you saw that, you did not later change your minds and believe him.” In other words, the leaders were not merely ignorant; they were resistant to evidence of grace. They saw sinners repent. They saw lives change. And still they did not reconsider themselves. They did not allow grace in others to unsettle their self-understanding.

This parable warns us that the most dangerous spiritual state is not outright refusal, but unexamined religious commitment. That is, a spoken “yes” can become a shield against conversion. Familiarity with God can harden into immunity to him. It is possible to say “Lord, Lord” and never enter the vineyard.

At the same time, the parable is full of hope. The first son reminds us that a bad beginning does not doom the end. What matters is not what we once said, but whether we are willing to change when the truth confronts us. God’s will is not fulfilled by correct language, but by lived response.

The Kingdom of God is entered not by those who speak best about obedience, but by those who, sooner or later, get up and go. And sometimes it is those who begin furthest away who arrive first — because they know they must move.

The question Jesus leaves with us is the same one he asked the leaders, though now it is quieter and closer: Which son are you and I becoming — by what we say, or by what we do?

Monday in the Third Week of Advent, December 15, 2025

Matthew 21, 23-27

When Jesus had come into the temple area, the chief priests and the elders of the people approached him as he was teaching and said, “By what authority are you doing these things? And who gave you this authority?” Jesus said to them in reply, “I shall ask you one question, and if you answer it for me, then I shall tell you by what authority I do these things. Where was John’s baptism from? Was it of heavenly or of human origin?” They discussed this among themselves and said, “If we say ‘Of heavenly origin,’ he will say to us, ‘Then why did you not believe him?’ But if we say, ‘Of human origin,’ we fear the crowd, for they all regard John as a prophet.” So they said to Jesus in reply, “We do not know.” He himself said to them, “Neither shall I tell you by what authority I do these things.”

The Lord Jesus, having entered Jerusalem with a large crowd of supporters, went directly to the Temple as though to take possession of it.  When he found the usual sellers of animals and money changers in the courtyard, he violently threw them out.  These two actions — his entrance to the city and his suppression of trade in the Temple — alarmed the chief priests and the elders.  They saw that he was challenging their legitimacy and so they accosted him: “By what authority are you doing these things? And who gave you this authority?”  As if to say, We did not authorize you to do this.  However, they themselves possessed no authority.  The chief priests were not the descendants of Aaron, as the Law stated they must be.  Annas had been appointed by the Roman procurator when Jesus was just a boy, and he was later deposed.  A few years later, his son-in-law Caiphas was appointed as high priest.  In fact, several men were appointed as high priest and then were deposed by the Romans during this time.  Their authority, such as it was, came not from their office so much as from the Romans.  As for the elders, these were older men who simply assumed a role.  They possessed no authority at all.  These priests and elders have no foundation for demanding that Jesus tell them on what authority he acts.

As though to signify that they have no basis for making demands of him, he does not answer their question, but makes them an offer: “I shall ask you one question, and if you answer it for me, then I shall tell you by what authority I do these things.”  Clearly, the authority here is Jesus, and the priests and elders acknowledge this by agreeing to his terms.  It is interesting to speculate as to what sort of question they thought he would ask them.  Certainly a theological one, and one they thought they could answer with some vague allusion to the Scriptures.  They were not ready for the question he did ask them: “Where was John’s baptism from? Was it of heavenly or of human origin?”  The men of no legitimate authority are trapped and they know it.  Quite apart from answering honestly, though, they try to figure out an answer using their cunning.  Their lives might depend on it: “They discussed this among themselves and said, “If we say ‘Of heavenly origin,’ he will say to us, ‘Then why did you not believe him?’ But if we say, ‘Of human origin,’ we fear the crowd, for they all regard John as a prophet.”  With only the appearance of importance and power to back them up, people are concerned with their personal survival and nothing else.  The question the Lord asks is a reasonable one and one which deserved an answer.  But these men were not eager to give one.  The facade of their authority came crashing down if they answered that John’s authority came from God; and the crowd would tear them apart if they responded that it was merely of human origin.  The reply they finally give amounts to a surrender: “We do not know.”  But of all people, they were supposed to know.  And how could the crowd know if they did not?  Their answer confused the crowd so much that they were able to slither away safely.  “Neither shall I tell you by what authority I do these things.”  Jesus reaffirms that he owes them nothing.  

The meaning of his coming to the Temple and taking possession of it was to show that the old priesthood — the line of Aaron — had come to an end.  The animals, which were to be sacrificed, were set free, signifying that the sacrifices of the Old Law had come to an end.  Now had arrived the true high priest, restoring not the compromised line of Aaron, but the original line of Melchizedek, and he himself was the new Sacrifice.  When Jesus defeats the priests and elders in this reading, he shows them that a new age was dawning.

The Third Sunday of Advent, December 14, 2025

Matthew 11:11-15

Jesus said to the crowds: “Amen, I say to you, among those born of women there has been none greater than John the Baptist; yet the least in the Kingdom of heaven is greater than he. From the days of John the Baptist until now, the Kingdom of heaven suffers violence, and the violent are taking it by force. All the prophets and the law prophesied up to the time of John. And if you are willing to accept it, he is Elijah, the one who is to come. Whoever has ears ought to hear.

“Amen, I say to you, among those born of women there has been none greater than John the Baptist.”  The Gospel Reading for today’s Mass is found in the context of John the Baptist sending to him two of his disciples with the question, “Are you the one who is to come or are we to look for another?” Now, John knew Jesus was the long-awaited Lamb of God, but he sends his disciples to Jesus to learn the answer for themselves. It is upon the departure of these disciples that the Lord teaches the significance of John to the people. The people hearing Jesus were very disappointed at John’s imprisonment. Many had been baptized by him. Some had thought him to be the Messiah or at least a prophet — such a prophet as was not seen in Israel in hundreds of years.  The Lord here praises John and indirectly he praises the people who followed him. He says to them, John is the greatest of men and he remains the greatest of men even though he has been imprisoned by Herod. 

Despite the reasons for the Lord’s saying this of John may seem elusive to us. In order to understand this we should keep in mind that Jesus was speaking to his fellow Jews, not to a crowd of Romans or Greeks. We should also keep in mind how Jesus defined “greatness”: “He that is the greatest among you shall be your servant” (Matthew 23, 11). That is, You will recognize who the greatest among you is by his selfless service. 

In what did this selfless service consist? John took on the roles of Forerunner, Herald, and Witness. As the Forerunner of Christ he obeyed the commandments the Angel Gabriel had given to him through his parents, and at a young age left them and his priestly heritage in order to wait in the wilderness for instructions: he “was in the wilderness until the day of his manifestation to Israel” (Luke 1, 80). He must have waited and prayed for years until the time came for him to begin his ministry: preaching repentance, baptizing, and proclaiming the coming of the Messiah. He did precisely this as the Lord’s Herald, the appointed representative of the Messiah himself. As a herald, nothing superseded the communication of the message entrusted to him, with the result that he pared his life back so that nothing could hinder him. To this end he wore the simplest garment, and one that would not wear out. He also ate the simplest of foods that did not need to be grown,purchased, or prepared. And then, as Witness, John did not merely tell the people that the Lord was coming but he pointed to him when he came: “Behold the Lamb of God” (John 1, 36). To sum up, he gave his entire life to God without condition, and he did this though, unlike his father, he received no angelic visitations.

The Feast of Our Lady of Guadalupe, Friday, December 12, 2025

Luke 1, 39-47

Mary set out and traveled to the hill country in haste to a town of Judah, where she entered the house of Zechariah and greeted Elizabeth. When Elizabeth heard Mary’s greeting, the infant leaped in her womb, and Elizabeth, filled with the Holy Spirit, cried out in a loud voice and said, “Most blessed are you among women, and blessed is the fruit of your womb. And how does this happen to me, that the mother of my Lord should come to me? For at the moment the sound of your greeting reached my ears, the infant in my womb leaped for joy. Blessed are you who believed that what was spoken to you by the Lord would be fulfilled.” 

Of the various options available for the Gospel reading for today’s feast, the above is the one I would choose, as it speaks of the Virgin Mary newly pregnant with her Son, for the miraculous image associated with this feast also shows her as pregnant.  

“Mary set out and traveled to the hill country in haste.”  She does this after the Angel Gabriel has revealed to her that she is to be the Mother of God.  By the use of the words “in haste”, St. Luke seems to indicate that she left Nazareth very soon after the Annunciation and that she traveled with a certain urgency.  The way Luke tells the story, she was moved to do this by the news of her relative Elizabeth’s pregnancy, with the implication that she had gone to assist her.  It also is reasonable to consider whether her primary intention was to seek instruction from Elizabeth’s husband, the priest Zechariah on what she was to do to prepare for the birth of her Son.  Luke also does not mention how Mary traveled and if she traveled with a caravan or by herself.  The “haste” with which she went would lead us to think she left Nazareth alone.  This is possible, but we are not told one way or the other.  The “haste” also leaves us in no doubt that she had a definite purpose in going.

“She entered the house of Zechariah and greeted Elizabeth.”  Luke does not tell us that she greeted Zechariah, but he could have been in the house.  His inability to speak at this time would have limited his social life, although he may have sat outside the town by its gate with the other elders and the greeting took place there.  Luke tells us that when Mary came to the house, she went directly into it and then into the room where Elizabeth had secluded herself, for she had “hid herself five months” (Luke 1, 24).  Notable here is the boldness with which the Virgin Mary acted, and also her solicitude for Elizabeth, for we are told that she greeted Elizabeth, not that Elizabeth greeted her, as was proper for the householder to do for a guest.

“When Elizabeth heard Mary’s greeting, the infant leaped in her womb.”  Joy attends the arrival of the Blessed Virgin and her Son.  This leaping of John the Baptist in his mother’s womb at the visible presence of Mary and the as yet invisible presence of her Son reminds us that where she is, he is.  Where we see the Mother, we see the Son.  It need not have been so, but the Lord God, in his marvelous Providence, chose to come to the human race through a human woman, and he reminds us of the human nature of his Son — the reality that his Son became flesh and did dwell among us — by the presence of his Mother, from whom his Son took his flesh.

“Elizabeth, filled with the Holy Spirit, cried out in a loud voice.”  The presence of God, and his presence through the Blessed Virgin, inspires us through the power of the Holy Spirit to praise him.  His presence brings joy to those who love him and yearn for his company.  The appearance of the Virgin guarantees the reality of his presence.  And in this moment, he looks at us through her eyes.  Following the praise of God and of the one who bears him in her womb, Elizabeth wondered aloud, “And how does this happen to me, that the mother of my Lord should come to me?”  Utter humility is the second proper response to the revelation of God’s presence, whether the presence is sacramental, as in the Holy Eucharist, or physically, as here.  This is no false humility at the sight of an earthly king, either.  In the depths of her soul, Elizabeth abased herself and marveled that the Mother of the Lord had come to her.  “Blessed are you who believed that what was spoken to you by the Lord would be fulfilled.”  While Elizabeth calls Mary “blessed” for her faith in the fulfillment of God’s will, she also commends this faith to us as well as the will to carry out God’s will in our lives.  This desire to do God’s will is the third response to the appearance of the Lord through the Virgin.

We see these in the apparitions to Juan Diego which are commemorated in this feast, particularly his obedience to go to the local bishop to make Mary’s command known that a church be built in her honor, despite the skepticism this might invite, and in his humility at the second apparition when he called himself an unfit instrument for carrying out her desire.   

On this feast day, let us honor her who honored our Lord with the complete giving of herself, and who has given him to us.

Thursday in the Second Week of Advent, December 11, 2025

Matthew 11, 11-15

Jesus said to the crowds: “Amen, I say to you, among those born of women there has been none greater than John the Baptist; yet the least in the Kingdom of heaven is greater than he. From the days of John the Baptist until now, the Kingdom of heaven suffers violence, and the violent are taking it by force. All the prophets and the law prophesied up to the time of John. And if you are willing to accept it, he is Elijah, the one who is to come. Whoever has ears ought to hear.”

John the Baptist, for years a fiery scourge lashing out against sin, injustice, and the corrupt in high places, now sits in Herod’s dungeon.  He knows his time on earth is rapidly closing.  He spends his days in prayer and in conversing with his persevering followers who visit.  Now and then, Herod himself comes, for “Herod feared John, knowing him to be a righteous and holy man: and kept him in his mind, and when he heard him, wondered much: but he heard him gladly” (Mark 6, 20).  This in spite of the fact that he had imprisoned John for rebuking him for his invalid marriage to his dead brother’s widow.

Into this dungeon filtered news of the words and deeds of Jesus of Nazareth, and John eagerly listened to it.  It delighted him to hear of the preaching of the Kingdom of God, for he knew that the salvation of Israel was near.  And in the midst of his physical sufferings, he was consoled in knowing that he had helped to prepare the way for the Savior.  He could truly say, as St. Paul would say many years later, “For I am even now ready to be sacrificed: and the time of my dissolution is at hand. I have fought the good fight, I have finished my course, I have kept the faith. ” (2 Timothy 6-7).  Still, one work remained to do: to send off the last of his disciples to the Lord Jesus.  They would not go easily.  Many clung to him even in his imprisonment.  Some had assisted him for years.  But sending them to Jesus would be the greatest gift he could give them, for it was for Jesus that he had come.

He sent his most trustworthy, stalwart disciples to the Lord with a question which was for their own benefit: “Are you the one who is to come or do we await another?”  The Lord replied with an answer equally for their benefit: “The blind see, the lame walk, the lepers are cleansed, the deaf hear, the dead rise again, the poor have the gospel preached to them.”  As if to say to John’s disciples, See with your own eyes.

It is after these disciples leave that Jesus speaks in praise of John: “Among those born of women there has been none greater than John the Baptist.”  This statement must have raised the eyebrows of his hearers, for Jesus named John ahead of Abraham, Moses, and the Prophets.  It was a sort of blasphemy.  The Lord then coupled this with, “Yet the least in the Kingdom of heaven is greater than he.”  St. Jerome explains that any saint already in heaven is in every way “greater” than even the “greatest” living on the earth: happier, more agile, wiser, immortal, and so on.  Jesus speaks in this way using the very great John whom the people continue to esteem, to teach about the Kingdom to which they were also called. 

“From the days of John the Baptist until now, the Kingdom of heaven suffers violence.”  That is, in the short time beginning with the preaching of John the Baptist until the present moment.  During these few years the Kingdom of heaven has been revealed and John and Jesus have preached repentance to the people so that they might enter it.  The Prophets had preached repentance to the people so that Jerusalem might be saved, but this repentance paved the way for salvation in heaven.  Repentance meant fasting, donning hair shirts, sitting in ashes, loudly beseeching God for mercy — it meant doing violence to oneself.  “The Kingdom of heaven suffers violence and the violent are taking it by force.”  That is, the formerly complacent have risen up and broken their own wills in order to do God’s and in this way “storm” heaven.  Jesus uses a rhetorical device here: the people do not violently take heaven; heaven violently takes the people.  This began only with the preaching and the example of John the Baptist.

“All the prophets and the law prophesied up to the time of John.”  The time of the Old Covenant, a sign, has come to an end, and it is transformed — fulfilled — into a New Covenant not sealed by the blood of animals “but with the precious blood of Christ, as of a lamb unspotted and undefiled”(1 Peter 1, 19).  

“And if you are willing to accept it, he is Elijah, the one who is to come.”  John the Baptist revealed Jesus as the Lamb of God, and Jesus reveals John as Elijah, and shows that the last prophecy of the last prophet of the Old Covenant has been fulfilled: “Behold, I will send you Elijah the prophet, before the coming of the great and dreadful day of the Lord.”  Elijah had lived in the wilderness and rebuked kings and the people for their idolatry.  Famously, he had challenged the priests of Baal to call down fire from heaven upon their sacrifices.  The priests called upon their god with all their might, but with no result.  When Elijah called upon the true God to send fire upon the sacrifice offered to him, a ferocious fire leapt down upon the earth.  At the end of his life, Elijah was carried off into the sky by a fiery chariot.  According to Malachi’s prophecy, Elijah would return “before the coming of the great and dreadful day of the Lord.”  That is, the coming of the Lord Jesus, who has ushered in the final “day”, or age.  John, though, is no reincarnated Elijah, or Elijah in disguise, but a man in the true spirit of Elijah, a true man of God, fearless, relentless, without doubts, ready to challenge kings, and harder on himself than on the worst sinner who came to him.  We ought to consider the great men and women of history and ponder the fact that of them all, John the Baptist was the greatest.

“Whoever has ears ought to hear.”  That is, Listen!  Pay attention!

Just as Elijah prefigured John the Baptist, we who are members of the Body of Christ, prefigure Jesus, preparing the world for his Second Coming with the preaching of repentance we make with our words and deeds.

Wednesday in the Second Week of Advent, December 10, 2025

Matthew 11:28-30

Jesus said: “Come to me, all you who labor and are burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am meek and humble of heart; and you will find rest for yourselves. For my yoke is easy, and my burden light.”

 

“I am meek and humble of heart.”  If we forget everything we know or think we know about the Lord and read the Gospels as objectively as we can, we should be struck by two main qualities that characterize Jesus: the way that he talks and the manner of his acting.  When he talks, he says exactly what he wants to say and no more.  He rarely speaks directly about himself, speaking principally of the Father and about those who follow him.  He does not employ many words when he performs his miracles.  When he does speak, his speech is compressed, his sentences generally short.  He even gives the impression of speaking with a certain brusqueness.  He speaks with great authority and does not back away from what he has said.  In short, he speaks in the way a servant does on behalf of his master.  This is why he can say of himself, “I am meek” even while denouncing Pharisees and the Jewish leaders or cursing towns.  As he himself says, “The words that I say to you I do not speak on my own authority; but the Father who dwells in me does his works” (John 14, 10).  That is, when he speaks harshly or gives commands, he seeks  no gain for himself: he is only acting on the Father’s behalf.  

St. Paul has this to say of the Lord’s humility: “Christ Jesus: who being in the form of God, thought it not robbery to be equal with God, but emptied himself, taking the form of a servant, being made in the likeness of men, and in habit found as a man. He humbled himself, becoming obedient unto death, even to the death of the cross.” Philippians 2, 5-8.  We can hear the awe and the hush in Paul’s voice as he says this.  The Son, as the Word, the “image” of the invisible God (cf. Colossians 1, 15), knew himself to be equal to the Father in power and glory, and in obedience to the Father, joined his divinity to a human nature and so took on the “likeness” of men so completely that he died on a cross.  The readiness with which he offered himself up is so hard for us to fathom that we can only begin to glimpse it in the lives of the saints.

As we pass through the days of Advent we ought to pray for the grace of knowing ourselves, of seeing our actions and hearing our words as others do, that we may then look at the Infant lying in the manger and learn what we must do to become more like him.

Tuesday in the Second Week of Advent, December 9, 2025

Matthew 18, 12-14

Jesus said to his disciples: “What is your opinion? If a man has a hundred sheep and one of them goes astray, will he not leave the ninety-nine in the hills and go in search of the stray? And if he finds it, amen, I say to you, he rejoices more over it than over the ninety-nine that did not stray. In just the same way, it is not the will of your Heavenly Father that one of these little ones be lost.”

In order to understand the parable that makes up today’s Gospel Reading, it helps to have a little background on first century shepherding: A flock of a hundred sheep indicates a medium sized family living fairly well. By contrast, a poor family would own eight to twenty sheep.  Male members of the family would take part in the shepherding, and perhaps they would hire one or two other shepherds to help out. The sheep were not fenced in but ranged wherever they found grass, so a sharp eye had to be kept on them. To prevent loss, they were counted several times a day. A missing or killed  sheep in a flock of a hundred may not sound very serious but it counted as a real loss that could not be made up. And sheep did tend to wander off. Since they lack depth perception, they cannot tell their distance from the flock if they do become separated. And where sheep are grazing, wolves and other predators are waiting.

And so the owner notices that one sheep is missing. He counts again to make sure. He then runs out to the edges of the pasture, looking for a high point in order to aid in his search. He listens for its bleats, for a sheep will bleat when it realizes it is cut off from the others. The owner looks for it for as long as it takes to find it and then he puts it on his shoulders to carry it back. He does not merely retrieve his sheep — he rescues it, for after sundown the predators would certainly make their move.

The Lord Jesus, eying his own flock, says about the owner in his parable: “He rejoices more over it than over the ninety-nine that did not stray.” This would have surprised the Lord’s hearers. They could understand the sheep owner to feel relief, but joy? And joy over the sheep that he had recovered more than all the sheep that had remained? While one sheep had worth, this sheep represented one percent of the flock. He should rather rejoice that all these others had not strayed. But here we see the Lord’s point: he treats each one of us as though we were the only one. He loves each of us as though we were the only one. And he did not merely risk his life to save us but sent his Son to die in order to do this.

“It is not the will of your Heavenly Father that one of these little ones be lost.” Jesus uses understatement here to balance with his revelation of the Father’s infinite love for us. What he means is, “Your Heavenly Father will do anything to save you.” 

The Solemnity of the Immaculate Conception of the Blessed Virgin Mary

Monday, December 8, 2025

Luke 1, 26–38

The angel Gabriel was sent from God to a town of Galilee called Nazareth, to a virgin betrothed to a man named Joseph, of the house of David, and the virgin’s name was Mary. And coming to her, he said, “Hail, full of grace! The Lord is with you.” But she was greatly troubled at what was said and pondered what sort of greeting this might be. Then the angel said to her, “Do not be afraid, Mary, for you have found favor with God. Behold, you will conceive in your womb and bear a son, and you shall name him Jesus. He will be great and will be called Son of the Most High, and the Lord God will give him the throne of David his father, and he will rule over the house of Jacob forever, and of his Kingdom there will be no end.” But Mary said to the angel, “How can this be, since I have no relations with a man?” And the angel said to her in reply, “The Holy Spirit will come upon you, and the power of the Most High will overshadow you. Therefore the child to be born will be called holy, the Son of God. And behold, Elizabeth, your relative, has also conceived a son in her old age, and this is the sixth month for her who was called barren; for nothing will be impossible for God.” Mary said, “Behold, I am the handmaid of the Lord. May it be done to me according to your word.” Then the angel departed from her.

Like many peoples of the time did, the Jews had formalized their greetings. According to the customary form, a Jew meeting another would say Shalom, offering wishes for peace and good health, and then the person’s title or name. Thus, we see Judas greeting the Lord Jesus in the Garden of Gethsemane, usually translated into English as “Hail, Rabbi.”  And then the other party would respond in the same way. In the Annunciation to the Virgin Mary, the Angel Gabriel greets her with (as is usually translated) “Hail”, but then a word other than her given name. In place of the name her parents had given her, Gabriel gives the name by which the angels knew her: (literally) “The one who has been graced”, with the implication, due to the tense of the word, that she remains “graced”. No one had ever been addressed in this way before, so no wonder Mary was confused. This greeting gets to the heart of the mystery of the Immaculate Conception. At the very instant of her creation in her mother’s womb, she was free from the defect of Original Sin. She came into the world as a gorgeous palace — fit for a King.

This freedom from Original Sin affected not only her actions, but her outlook and her personality.  Since her conception, her will has been turned towards the will of God   Calling herself the “handmaid of the Lord” provides us with her own understanding of what “she who has been perfected in grace” means, as a “handmaid” would be born into a life of servitude and would depend entirely on her owner for her existence.  For the willful who rebelled, this would be a miserable state of affairs, but for one who gloried in her owner, no treasure or false freedom could hold any allure.  

She reveals something of her heart in her Magnificat, which she sang before her cousin Elizabeth: “My soul magnifies the Lord; my spirit rejoices in God my Savior.”  Her soul always “magnified” the Lord, that is, proclaimed his greatness through the service of her life, and she rejoiced in God her “Savior”.  This line is worth examining, for while she cries aloud that she glorifies God for what she knew God to have done for her in the past and the present, her calling God her “Savior” tells us something else that she knew.  Now, in the Psalms David calls God his “Savior” after he has escaped danger or been victorious in battle: “I call upon the Lord, who is worthy to be praised, and I am saved from my enemies” (Psalms 18, 3).  In her praise of God she shows an awareness that God has saved her in a special way: she knows well that her Son will save the human race, but she emphatically calls God my Savior.  On some level she knew of her Immaculate Conception and was rejoicing in it.  God had saved her from the enemies that afflict all of us, the devil and sin, but he had saved her in a way that most wonderfully prepared her for her unique part in his plan of salvation for us.

Today we rejoice with her, and in her, for by her prayers her victory is ours, and her Savior, our own.