Communication is the key to any relationship. One of the
strange things about getting older is how your spheres of communication alter.
When you’re younger you communicate with your parents primarily until you enter
school, then the focus shifts to your friends. In the teenage years
communication between kids and parents can fall apart. Maybe that shifts as you
get older. When you date, your communication focuses on your significant other.
If you get married and have kids, you find that you communicate mainly with
your family and your friends progressively less, until your own kids get older.
Then the cycle continues.
I think the concept of communication is a great way to
tackle the story of Mary’s visitation to her cousin Elizabeth. Let’s try to see
the story through that lens and see where it leads us.
The beginning of the story is marked by poor communication.
In the first annunciation story of the Gospel, the angel Gabriel appears to
Zechariah to let him know that his wife would bear John the Baptist. “Both of
them were righteous before God, living blamelessly according to the commandments
and regulations of the Lord” (Luke 1:6). Zachariah’s name comes from the Hebrew
zachar and means “whom Yahweh
remembers”. This seems a little ironic given that this blameless couple seem
forgotten by God in one regard: they have no children. Children are a sign of
divine favor and part of a life of blessing.
Zachariah is a priest and in our scene is serving in the
holy place of the Temple. Most priests served in the Temple for two weeks
usually twice a year (occasionally a third time). He is right in the Temple, just outside of the
Holy of Holies. There Gabriel appears to him, by the altar of incense. This appearance
fills Zechariah with fear, perhaps noting now the reality of the One Whom he
serves. Imagine being at Mass and suddenly Jesus appears to you. Maybe you’d be
excited but chances are you might freak out as well. We expect Him to be there
but we’d also be in wonder if we saw Him in the flesh.
Gabriel’s message is similar to the one we hear him give to
Mary. Zachariah’s wife will conceive and bear a son named John. “You will have
joy and gladness, and many will rejoice at his birth, for he will be great in
the sight of the Lord.” In what might seem like a strange addition, Gabriel
tells Zachariah that “He must never drink wine or strong drink” which seems to
designate that he is to be a nazirite, a person who has professed vows to the
Lord for what is normally a fixed period of time and who would allow their hair
to grow out. This seems in line with the wooly appearance of John that we see
later in the Gospel. This son of Zachariah will fulfill a special purpose in
the divine plan: “He will turn many of the people of Israel to the Lord their
God. With the spirit and power of Elijah he will go before him, to turn the
hearts of parents to their children, and the disobedient to the wisdom of the
righteous. To make ready a people prepared for the Lord.” This fact is recognized by Jesus in another
Gospel when he is confronted with the scribes’ assertion that “Elijah must come
first”, the 9th century BCE Israelite prophet who had long since
died. Jesus confirms that this happened with the coming of John (Mark 9:13).
Now you might think that this might be a classic example of
divine communication. In fact, when Mary receives her annunciation, her
response is “I am the handmaid of the Lord, let it be done to me according to
your word.” The setup is perfect, holy place, righteous priest, vision of an
angel and a message of glad tidings. Zechariah, however, responds doubtfully “How
will I know that this is so? For I am an old man, and my wife is getting on in
years” (Luke 1:18). There is subtle but decisive difference in his reply
compared with Mary’s “how can this be, since I am a virgin?” (1:34). Zachariah
is looking for a sign when the appearance of Gabriel should be sign enough.
Gabriel then declares that while he has been sent to bring Zachariah good news,
because he did not believe Gabriel he would be struck mute until the events
would occur.
There’s something very striking about the image of a priest
left mute in the sanctuary of the holy Temple. Just like that he can no longer communicate.
There have been times in my life while I’ve been rendered speechless, normally in
the presence of something that is either so awesome or so stupid that I was at
a loss for words. This was different. Zachariah would no longer be able to
communicate with his fellow priests. He could no longer communicate with his
wife. He could not recite his prayers, especially the all-important “shema y’israel”.
He was present but cut off. It was in this broken state that he went home to
his wife, lay with her, and she conceived John.
This is the immediate context of Mary’s annunciation and her
all-encompassing “yes” to the divine plan. It’s also the context of the
Visitation, the scene were looking at today.
The story begins with communication. Mary enters the home of
Elizabeth and calls out to her before they see each other. She enters Elizabeth’s
home freely, as you would enter the home of a dear friend or family member. No
need to knock, no ringing the bell. Maybe she comes in with confidence. Maybe
it’s to echo the tidings of great joy that have already been delivered by the
angel. Hey Elizabeth, great news!
The call receives a response not from Elizabeth but from the
unborn child in her womb: “When Elizabeth heard Mary’s greeting, the child
leaped in her womb.” Consider the intimacy that implies between mother and
child. The ears of the mother hear the greeting but the child deep in her womb
is stirred by it. From the ear of the mother to the heart of the child. Then
Elizabeth’s words: “Blessed are you among women, and blessed is the fruit of
your womb.” If this were a stage, there would be two people before us but four
would be on stage. The fruit of both of their wombs are entwined in the embrace
of their mothers. The scene resonates with a later one when Jesus is baptized
by John in the Jordan River. In that moment Jesus is revealed by His Father as
his Beloved Son, with whom He is well pleased (3:22).” In his turning within
his mother’s womb, we see the beginning of a little prophet and that vocation
begins with the eyes and ears of his mother.
I wonder if in that moment Mary felt the first relief she
felt since getting the big news. She was the unmarried pregnant virgin from
Nazareth who faced a death sentence for adultery. We know Mary’s a little different, that she
believes the message of Gabriel. But there’s a moment in every pregnancy when
the idea of being pregnant turns into the deep realization that a child is
coming and demands to be welcomed. Mary had to face her annunciation having to
believe that this would work out. She knew that there were problems she had to
face and at the beginning she must’ve felt those challenges palpably. In the
presence of her cousin Elizabeth they could both begin to dream and hope for
the children they were bearing. Would they be friendly with one another? What
kind of personalities would they have? Would they ever wear matching outfits?
What would they be like when they got older? And what was God’s plan in all of
this?
These moments of joy are important because both children
would live scandalously short lives. To recall the stage metaphor, towards the
end of the story Mary would stand alone as the solitary actor on stage. Both of
their children would be executed. For today this needs to be good news and Mary
must have recalled the moment when she first got the news of John’s death. Time
works differently when you have children and it’s nothing to remember their
birth as though it were yesterday, even decades after the fact. Mary must’ve
recalled the scene, what the weather was like, how things felt that day she
burst into Elizabeth’s home in earnest. On the day of John’s death she must
have felt that it was not all that long ago that she heard Elizabeth tell her that
her son literally leaped in her womb at the sound of her coming. They must have
told the story countless times at family dinners, with both cousins listening
with the mix of embarrassment and specialness that comes from hearing stories
of yourself as a baby.
On this day it’s about the “good news” because ultimately
the coming of children is good news. With all of the stress and preparation
something wonderful remains even in the face of sleepless nights and crying
fits. Babies are a great thing.
I talk as though Zechariah was not present at this meeting
but a line from Elizabeth makes me question that. “And blessed is she who
believed that there would be a fulfillment of what was spoken to her by the
Lord” (1:45). I wonder if she is side-eying the mute Zachariah at this moment,
mute because of his unbelief. “At least someone here believed!” Cue Zachariah
rolling his eyes because it’s not like he could say anything back to her!
Here, in the text, Mary bursts into song. This song is known
to us as the Magnificat and we should take a few moments and reflect on it.
First, the occasion and Elizabeth’s words to Mary spur the song on. Our
Visitation has inspired something great. I think this Magnificat can radically
alter our image of Mary. Because take a minute and think of your image of Mary.
I can’t help but picture her as stoic, beautiful, young, and, and I’m not sure
why, I tend to picture her as quiet. Here, however, Mary is decidedly not
quiet. No other figure in this Gospel will speak as much and as long as she
does here save for her son and for the restored Zachariah some verses ahead of
this. Mary has something to say. If I were to compare her to any other speaking
figure in the Bible, it would be one of the Old Testament prophets. I think
Mary is a prophet here. Let’s take a look.
“My soul magnifies the
Lord and my spirit rejoices in God my savior”
Mary presents herself as an amplifier for the Lord. It’s
beyond what we would hope to be. After all, how can we magnify God? God is
already so immense, so all-encompassing. Mary dares say she magnifies that! Her
spirit rejoices in God her savior. The word “savior” or “soter” in the original Greek is notable because it’s only used one
other time in the Gospel, when the angels announce to the shepherds the coming
of the “savior” who is the Messiah… “to you is born this day in the city of David a Savior,
who is the Messiah, the Lord.” (Luke 2:11 NRS). Her message becomes
Christological, acknowledging the God whose will it was to ordain her as mother
of the Messiah and the little savior within her womb.
“for he has looked with
favor on the lowliness of his servant.”
Mary’s words echo the words another famous biblical mother, Hannah, who
conceived her child Samuel despite her barrenness as a sign of the Lord’s
favor. “O LORD of hosts, if only you will look on the misery of your servant,
and remember me, and not forget your servant” (1 Samuel 1:11). Her Mary
remembers the fundamental relationship of humanity to God. When we commune with
God we are in an unequal relationship to Him. What are we if not his meager
creations? His love elevates us and yet we are what we are. We may be lowly
servants but he adores His lowly servants as His own sons and daughters.
In a touching scene in the second book of Samuel, an embattled and greatly
humiliated King David is harangued by a man named Shimei. Instead of acting
with vengeance at his insults, he tells his companions “It may be that the LORD
will look on my distress, and the LORD will repay me with good for this cursing
of me today” (2 Samuel 16:12). When we are humbled we hope that the Lord would
respond to us with pity.
“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.”
We read this knowing full well that we continue to acknowledge Mary as
blessed. Mary owns the word “blessed” not as a title of greatness but as an
acknowledgement of God’s good work in her life. Any why is she blessed? Because
the Almighty has done great things for her. In the Old Testament He is the God “who
is partial and takes no bribe, who executes justice for the orphan and the
widow, and who loves the strangers, providing them good and clothing”
(Deuteronomy 10:17-18). He is a giving God and notice that the things that God
gives us are the basic needs of life that we are often tempted to attribute to
our own providence. Mary is not speaking just of her pregnancy. She is giving
gratitude for her whole life, including this moment of company with her cousin.
She acknowledges God, that “holy is His name.” As the Psalms say “Holy and awesome
is his name” (Psalm 111:9). Her words echo the commandment to not take the name
of the Lord in vain because to do that is to compromise our ability to see God
in His fundamental nature as “gift” and “presence”. She sees God clearly in
exalting His name.
“His mercy is for those
who fear him from generation to generation.”
Fear never ceases to seem like a strange word to use for God but as it says
in Proverbs, “The fear of the LORD is the beginning of wisdom, and the knowledge
of the Holy One is insight” (Pro 9:10 NRS).
In Hebrew, the word is yārē’ and
in this context in can mean two things. One is a reverence and awe for the
Almighty. This kind of reverence requires a certain mustering up of the
recognition of who God is and who we are, much like we did when we considered the
lowliness of His servant. God created not only us, but all of existence out of
nothing. The most amazing and majestic things visible to our eyes are but faint
echoes of his own divine nature. We lose our breath at a mountain or canyon and
yet God created all of that and the space between. We have to recover a sense
of our own place in the cosmos and the cosmos’ own place as creation beholden
to Him. The other sense of “fear of the Lord” is the religious practice of the
people of Israel. In worship the cosmos is reordered towards Him. It in
worshipping God with the fullness of awe that we are able to receive His mercy,
because how can we receive mercy if we do not acknowledge who we really are
before God? How can we be opened up to mercy if we do not see Him as the only
one who can bestow it to us?
“He has shown strength with his arm; he has scattered the
proud in the thoughts of their hearts.”
We have already
acknowledged God as mighty but here we see God at odds with those who cannot
fear the Lord. If “fear of the Lord” puts God at the center of the universe, it
is the proud who put themselves at its center. Pride is the ultimate foe of the
life of faith. In Proverbs we hear that “Pride goes before destruction, and a
haughty spirit before a fall” (Pro 16:18 NRS). Traditionally it was pride that
was the sin of Lucifer when he rebelled against God and his angels. “Non
serviam”, “I will not serve”. What is this nature of the violent reordering of
the cosmic order, where God is ripped out of the center and man placed in the
middle? There is chaos. They are “scattered” “in the thoughts of their hearts”.
This passage is reminder that even we are capable of this kind of pride by
reordering nature and the fruit of that work is to be scattered.
“He has brought down the powerful from their thrones, and
lifted up the lowly;
he has filled the hungry with good things, and sent the rich away empty.”
God is the vindicator of the poor. His nature is to lift up
the lowly and make all things just. That is why the Kingdom of God is oriented
towards justice, to take the unfairness of this world and set things right.
When the powerful are brought down from the thrones and the lowly are lifted up,
all are equal. As David says to God, “You deliver a humble people, but your
eyes are upon the haughty to bring them down” (2 Samuel 22:28). From Job, “he
sets on high those who are lowly, and those who mourn are lifted to safety.” I
believe that here we see Mary at her most prophetic. The prophets and the Torah
are concerned with the widow, the orphan, and the resident alien who lives
among the people. These are the most vulnerable members of society. When those
who are full in their belly horde the plenty, our faith expressly hopes that
which rightfully belongs to the poor is restored to them so that all may eat.
We often lose this sense of our faith in our own comforts but Mary was herself
a peasant who undoubtedly knew want, hunger, and vulnerability. She would
remain in that state throughout her life, even as an aged widow, a plight that
her Son answers from the cross when he places her in the care of the Beloved Disciple.
“He has helped his
servant Israel, in remembrance of his mercy,
according to the promise he made to our ancestors, to Abraham and to his
descendants forever”.
Here again we see the concept of God’s remembrance, much
like the zachar of Zachariah’s name. In the Old Testament, not only is it hope
that God would remember the Covenant, it was a creed. It is not God who forgets
us but rather we who forget Him. Israel’s woes come from forgetting their
covenant with God. Mary is sure of God’s mercy. God would have things no other
way. After all He cannot forget. Every fall and failure of humanity bears
within it the promise that God will never forget us. Our pain and despair and
the injustices we face are not lost on Him. He will remember His Covenant with
us and He will act. We are assured of this. “You will show faithfulness to
Jacob and unswerving loyalty to Abraham, as you have sworn to our ancestors
from the days of old” (Micah 7:20).
Here we reenter the narrative to learn that “Mary remained
with her about three months and then returned to her home.” Mary, like her Son,
came not to be served but to serve. She is the “handmaiden of the Lord”. John
was born, Zechariah’s speech was restored to him, and Mary would begin to
prepare for her own nativity story. Here lets take some time to reflect, to
allow the power of this Visitation wash over us. We have to recover the faith
of Mary and Elizabeth in hearing what God is saying to us and communicating it
with one another, to rejoice at His good work and to hope to experience His
goodness in our days.