Reflection for the Vigil of the Feast of the Annunciation

Mary was a woman of astounding faith and trust – so much so that we may forget that she was as human as you and I. She too knew laughter, tears, weariness, frustration, pain and loss.

As a child, I saw Mary as the perfect model of a person who lived in the certainty of God’s Presence. I still see her that way, but I’ve come to realize that Mary’s certainty of living in God’s Presence did not eliminate her living with questions. She embraced the unknown over and over, but always trusting that her questions were intertwined with the mystery of God’s movements in her life. Whatever the uncertainties for Mary, they never overpowered her UNQUESTIONING faith and trust in God.

In our gospel, Luke writes that Gabriel greeted Mary with: “Hail, full of grace” and then Luke writes that upon hearing these words, Mary “was greatly troubled at what was said and pondered what sort of greeting this might be.” GREATLY troubled – that translates into anxious, disturbed, confused. And then, as if Gabriel’s greeting wasn’t enough, he proceeds to say:

“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 the Son of the Most High…” How could Mary not be “greatly troubled?”

She was being asked to let go of everything she had envisioned for her future, well aware that if she said “yes” her life would be permanently reshaped. Luke records only one question from Mary, but my guess is that she had an endless stream of questions swirling in her head! Can you imagine how she ever fell asleep that night?

Mary’s yes to this first annunciation was only the beginning of a lifetime of questions. Scripture reveals numerous times when she was left wondering, pondering –

when she gave birth to Jesus in a smelly stable; hadn’t Gabriel told her that her child would be great and be called “Son of the Most High”?

or when Jesus was presented in the temple and Simeon tells Mary: “a sword will pierce your own soul.”

Or when Mary was in the crowd listening to her Son preaching and a voice shouts: “Your mother and your brothers are asking for you.” And Mary hears Jesus respond:

“Here are my mother and my brothers. Whoever does the will of God is my brother and sister and mother.”

And then the time when questions must have engulfed her as never before. John writes in his gospel: “standing near the cross of Jesus was his mother.” And as Mary stands there, watching her Son dying before her very eyes, John adds that Jesus looked at his mother and said: “Woman, here is your son” and turning to John: “Here is your mother.”

This feast invites us to reflect on God’s annunciations in our own life. Maybe there was that time when suddenly we sensed God inviting us to say “yes” to something that would result in a radical change in our life. Did I resist the inner reshaping my “yes” would demand? More often than not, God’s annunciations are not so dramatic, but just as real. On what is an ordinary day, there are those gentle whispers from God inviting us to respond to this person or that circumstance with unselfishness, forgiveness, patience or a listening ear. Maybe we turned away; the time just wasn’t convenient or maybe we responded with love. Opening ourselves to God’s annunciations, whether life-changing or ordinary, involve that same faith and trust we see in Mary, a willingness to let go of our limited vision, our comfort zone. It’s important for us to be mindful that these simple annunciations keep us awake to our baptism into the Body of Christ – reminders that we have said “yes” to bringing Christ into our world.

As a young Jesuit priest, Father John Kavanaugh, scholar and author, tells of a time he went to work for three months at the house of the dying in Calcutta. He writes that he went because he was seeking a clear answer as to how best to spend the rest of his life. On the first morning there he met Mother Teresa. She asked, “And what can I do for you?” Kavanaugh asked her to pray for him. “What do you want me to pray for?” she asked. He voiced the request that he had borne thousands of miles from the United States: “Pray that I have clarity.” She said firmly, “No, I will not do that.” When he asked her why, she said, “Clarity is the last thing you are clinging to and must let go of.” When Kavanaugh commented that she always seemed to have the clarity he longed for, she laughed and said,

“I have never had clarity; what I have always had is trust. So I will pray that you trust God.”

Mary didn’t have clarity; she simply trusted God with her whole heart. Remember how shortly after Gabriel’s appearance, Mary visited her cousin, Elizabeth. How did she greet her? Was it something like: “Elizabeth, what have I done? There is no way I can do this!” No, Mary greets Elizabeth with words of great joy and confidence: “My soul magnifies the Lord, and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior, for he has looked with favor on the lowliness of his servant. Surely, from now on all generations will call me blessed for the Mighty One has done great things for me, and holy is his name.” Mary chose to allow God to reshape her life – and with that first “yes” she plunged herself into the great adventure of being God’s servant.

Tonight, you received a copy of a painting and poem, both titled “The Annunciation.” They are powerful meditations on the mystery of this feast. I invite you also spend some time with Michelangelo’s sculpture “The Pieta.” In his book “The Passion and The Cross”, Ronald Rolheiser says: “Meditate on The Pieta: A woman holds a dead body in her arms, but everything about her and about the scene itself says loudly and clearly: “Don’t be afraid. It’s all right. Everything is and will be all right!”

On our journey of faith, each of us will have times of uncertainty and lack of clarity, times when there are more questions than answers. May we, like Mary, remain open to God’s annunciations with at least a shadow of Mary’s faith and trust. And when, despite the lack of clarity, we respond to God’s invitation with our “yes”, may we echo Mary’s words: