We are presented today with the aftermath of the Annunciation in Luke's gospel. Like John the Baptist, Mary chooses not to bask in the limelight of being God's chosen. She does not spend time with Joseph picking out crib designs or knitting blue boots for the impending arrival. On hearing that Elizabeth is in need of support, 'Mary got ready and hurried off to a town in the hill country of Judea' (Lk 1:39). Mary's response is typical of her spirituality and approach to life: 'take it by the horns'. The Kerry playwright John B Keane wrote 'Christmas'; it tells of a curmudgeonly gentlemen who begs his daughter to come back home from London for the holidays. His life changes because he took a risk in inviting her back to her roots but realises that he had to be proactive if the reunion was going to happen, as he remembers:

'When Christmas came to our street it came with a loud laugh and an expansive humour that healed old wounds and lifted the hearts of young and old.' ('Christmas Stories')

Mary brings the life of God into this Judean home and causes an immediate reaction: 'When Elizabeth heard Mary's greeting, the baby moved within her. Elizabeth was filled with the Holy Spirit' (Lk 1:41). Mary brings Jesus into this home, and the call at the end of our Eucharist today is to share the ministry of Mary as we 'go in peace to love and serve the Lord.' Mary's response is one of pure love—remember that love as we light the fourth and final candle of the wreath. As this circle of light increases, we join with our ancestors down through the ages who have feared the loss of light in the northern hemisphere. People will gather at sunrise in Newgrange and Stonehenge to celebrate the Winter solstice and the gift of light. Nothing could stop Mary in her journey of support, nothing could stop Jesus in his mission—even if his closest friends wanted to opt for the easier way. Nothing could stop the message of Jesus getting through—even the most wicked actions of so-called Christians and enemies like Stalin and Hitler. So many try to diminish that light and love of God, but our faith stands up to them. Today we need to bring that light and love to others in the most simple of ways.
The old Kerry man took a gamble; his past record would indicate that his daughter would reject his love. His action produced an outpouring of love from his daughter and their broken relationship was healed.

Mary's Visitation with Elizabeth and her family showed an outpouring of love that was reciprocated. We share the optimism and hope of Elizabeth as we can make her words a simple prayer for today: 'How happy you are to believe that the Lord's message to you will come true' (Lk 1:45). The Lord has a message for each of us and that is our personal gift for this Christmas. As we, hopefully, return to a more communitarian expression of our faith, I pray that you listen to that message for you. Our faith, like that of Mary, demands action: we can all have a sentimental approach to our faith, but Mary shows us that we need to be proactive and 'take the bull by the horns!' Will we make mistakes—most certainly yes! Will it be hard—most certainly yes! Will this make us better people, open to the will of God? Again, a most certain yes!

These next few days are going to be exceeding busy, as plans and ideas come to fruition for family and friends. We remember that Christmas 2020 was very different: hopefully we discovered that even a global pandemic could not destroy the true spirit of Christmas. The legacy of COVID-19 has forced us to change our lifestyle in order to protect others. We need to be more careful, and it is those little things that will make Christmas extra special in 2021. One of the greatest gifts we can give to each other, just like Mary of Nazareth, is the gift of our time and attention. In the midst of all those brightly packaged presents sitting under your tree at home, I pray that you find the gift of peace and acceptance. I pray that you find your true priorities and that your Christmas be filled with happiness and joy, close to those who make a difference in your life. Keep safe and well. In his poem 'After Night Office in Gethsemane', the mystic, Thomas Merton writes:

O, roads, to the four quarters of our quiet distance,
While you, full moon, wise queen,
Begin your evening journey to the hills of heaven,
And travel no less stately in the summer sky
Than Mary, going to the house of Zachary.
The woods are silent with the sleep of doves,
The valleys with the sleep of streams,
And all our barns are happy with peace of cattle gone to rest.
Still wakeful, in the fields, the shocks of wheat
Preach and say prayers:
You sheaves, make all your evensongs as sweet as ours,
Whose summer world, all ready for the granary and barn,
Seems to have seen, this day,
Into the secret of the Lord's Nativity.
Now at the fall of night, you shocks
Still bend your heads like kind and humble kings
The way you did this golden morning when you saw God's Mother passing,
While all our windows fill and sweeten
With the mild vespers of the hay and barley.
You moon and rising stars, pour on our barns and houses
Your gentle benedictions.
Remind us how our Mother, with far subtler and more holy influence,
Blesses our rooves and eaves,
Our shutters, lattices and sills,
Our doors, and floors, and stairs, and rooms, and bedrooms,
Smiling by night upon her sleeping children:
O gentle Mary! Our lovely Mother in heaven

Author: Fr Gerry O'Shaughnessy SDB

Photo: Erik Witsoe on Unsplash