Today’s readings move us forward in our Advent journey, drawing us nearer to the day of our Lord’s birth. We think of birth as an entry into our world, but incarnation began before birth, as our Lord was being formed in his mother’s womb in the same manner as the rest of humanity.
That formation is mostly shrouded from view, except for a visible bump that emerges as the new baby grows. Within the womb, we can imagine the dominant sound is the lub-dub of his mother’s heart, which is soon joined by the baby’s own little heartbeat. So begins this deep connection we have with our mothers. They are the first ones to feel our movements. The bonds formed in this interior life continue to influence us for the rest of our days.
In the first reading, King Ahaz would not ask for a sign in the heavens. Maybe that was wise. Signs like this might be visible to all, but their meaning remains hidden. What good is a sign visible to all, but with ambiguous and contestable meanings? The sign Isaiah promised was of another kind – a virgin birth – a quiet event witnessed only by a few. But it would also not be readily understood, even by the Blessed Virgin herself.
In today’s gospel, the Angel’s encounter with Mary is remarkable for its brevity. The Angel greets her, “Hail, full of grace! The Lord is with you!” Mary could not muster any words in return. She pondered the greeting inside, without saying anything. Perhaps her puzzled look triggered the Angel’s second statement, which began: “Do not be afraid, Mary, for you have found favor with God.” The Lord is with you. You have found favor with God. Perhaps these are two sides of the same coin. But how is this favor – and this presence – to be revealed? The Angel’s answer draws from Isaiah’s holy prophecy.
In response, Mary could only muster a single question: “How can this be, since I have no relations with a man?” The Angel’s answer included yet another sign – the sign of her relative, Elizabeth, conceiving a son in old age – along with its principal meaning: “[F]or nothing will be impossible for God.”
Mary must have had many questions, but they would remain unasked and unanswered for now. Her response to the Angel is beautiful in its simplicity: “Behold, I am the handmaid of the Lord. May it be done to me according to your word.” In other words, if it worked out for Elizabeth, it will somehow work out for me, too.
Mary has much to teach us, and we have much to learn from her example during this Advent journey. In this life of faith, angels appear rarely. More often, God chooses signs of a quieter variety, which often leave us with something to ponder, to live with, and to work out in the course of time. Signs are often wrapped in love, beginning with our mothers and fathers and then followed by many others. These signs are presented all around us if we are open to them, quietly witnessing to us that God is there and He has not forgotten us.
St. John of the Cross, who lived and worked with St. Teresa of Avila in the 1500s, once said: “Where there is no love, pour love in, and you will draw love out.” In so doing, we may also become a sign to encourage others as we quietly do the Lord’s work while we wait for him to come again. Thanks be to God.
Edward Morse
Ed Morse is a professor of law who holds the McGrath North Endowed Chair in business law at Creighton. University School of Law. He and his wife Susan are Catholic converts. Together, they operate a family cattle farm in rural Western Iowa.
Writing these reflections over the past fifteen years has helped me to learn and grow in faith. Sometimes it has also chastened me by reminding me of the constant need to practice what we have learned as we live out our faith journey together. I am grateful for feedback and encouragement from my fellow travelers.
