We ask her to pray with us for the coming of the Holy Spirit upon each of us. Surely, the Spirit will respond generously to her intercession!

We ask her to teach us how to allow the Spirit to pray within us, to teach us how to calmly bring every power of our souls under the guidance of the Holy Spirit’s light and love, so that our own prayer may be a proper offering before the Throne of Love and Mercy.

Let us wait with Mary, so that our waiting will not be vacant.

As we pray at Mass in her presence, every prayer can become clearer and more focused. Seeing God through her pure eyes, I confess my sinfulness and ask for mercy in the Confiteor. With the Mother who composed the Magnificat, I too glorify God with all my being in the Gloria. With the first follower of the Word, I listen to the Word with new attentiveness. With she who was proclaimed blessed for having believed, I declare my faith in the Creed.

At the Offertory, I ask her to offer me to the Father along with her Son – like the presentation of the Child in the Temple, the Offertory is the presentation (by the Mother)of the future Victim, and we are all brothers and sisters, and part of that Sacrifice. I want to be, like Mary, a drop of water “lost” in the wine that will be transubstantiated into His Blood; His Blood shed for all, just as our lives should be poured out for others.

At the Consecration, Body and Blood mysteriously separated, I remain with Mary at the foot of the Cross, as she offers her Son, and herself in union with Him. I am there with John and Mary Magdalen (purity and reparation, both fueled by love), and Jesus offers Himself to the Father, joining all of us to that offering. There is only ONE Sacrifice. We are all there, united to Him, offered through Him, with Him, in Him.

I cannot imagine a Communion without Mary, as I have been asking her to “replace my poor and sinful heart” with her “holy and immaculate Heart, that I may worthily receive and serve” her Son for as long as I can remember. It seems that she accompanies me to the altar, reminding me that “the Bridegroom has come; let us go to welcome Him,” guides me as I receive Him and am received by Him, and remains near me as I pray.

And as we are dismissed to bring Christ to others, I walk with Mary who was the first to do precisely that, from the first moment of His conception; she was always “Christ-bearer,” who brought His light to others, never keeping it for herself.

In a civilization in which we can control every facet of our lives, demand to be treated like Louis XIV, and explain everything scientifically or think we will be able to soon, we do not need God. When we do not worship God (“everybody’s worshipping something”), we worship ourselves and our stuff. And the fruit of self-worship is self-loathing. We cannot be fulfilled within ourselves, so we begin to destroy ourselves. And we become skeptical of everything beautiful, good, and true, which eventually leads to despair.

In contrast, Mary teaches us the correct attitude toward God, toward others, and toward society. First, as we pointed out in discussing the Annunciation, she shows us that we should have complete faith and trust in the Father who loves us personally. God is real, God is present, God is loving. God loves us each personally. She was able to say YES though she could not see the details of the future. But she trusted that God would take care of all the details perfectly. 

Then, she went “in haste” to help Elizabeth. There was no sitting around glorying in her own little moment (“little”?!). The Mother of God does not see that she should now have any special consideration or that others should be helping her, though she might. Instead, she goes “in haste” to serve (charity is always in a hurry, not a fluster). When she arrives and the reality of what God has done in her is confirmed by Elizabeth’s greeting, Mary acknowledges what God has done for her and then immediately returns all the glory to Him. She teaches us to take Christ to the streets in concrete acts of charity, animated by the love of Christ within us, and to give all glory to Him (“Non nisi, Domine…”). 

Finally, Mary was living in politically and religiously controversial times (much like our own in many ways). How did she respond to the issues of the day? Well, she did not become an activist (though she was raising the most revolutionary individual in the history of humanity), did not fight fire with fire, did not join the resistance, as they say. She didn’t dress up like a jester, break into the Roman barracks and spray paint peace messages on their spears. She simply did what was before her, and prayed, moving hearts one at a time in the direction of peace. 

Don’t get me wrong here: there is a time and a place for resistance and we absolutely – ABSOLUTELY – have an obligation to defend the truth. We must use the means available to us (and this varies for each individual) to protect the powerless, using the strength of our bodies to help those who are weak, the powers of our minds to advance all good, whatever material power or authority we have to defend the truth, the powers of our hearts to bring hope to the suffering and sorrowful. We absolutely must speak out (and sometimes act) against injustice and evil at every level. In our time, this especially means that we must make our voices heard (through writing, newspaper, speaking, protesting, silent witness, whatever) and make the truth known about abortion, war, euthanasia, poverty, economic injustice and more. We must. We MUST. With whatever voice God has given us, we must. 

The lesson we learn from Mary is that prayer is more powerful than action, though both are necessary; it’s just that we can’t get so caught up in our action that we forget that it would be powerless without prayer. Action must be preceded by prayer, accompanied by prayer, followed up with prayer. It must spring from prayer, remain enshrouded in prayer, and we must pray for the souls we are trying to move long after our activity has come to rest. 

So against the skepticism, despair, and egoism of the day, we look to Mary to learn the way of faith, hope, self-giving, humility, and confident trust in the love of God. In this is our peace, and peace can only come from within.

But “stuff” can enslave. The things that compose our setting can become (deliberately or unconsciously) an encircling wall rather than an enlargement of personality. This is why the Church (wise with the Wisdom of the Spirit) upholds the right to property while preaching the virtue and value of poverty of spirit.

We are to be detached from things, though things are necessary. This detachment means not clinging to the good things God gives us to use as well as not running from the bad things that come our way. The goal is true poverty of spirit, not because “stuff” is bad but because true freedom is only to be had by those who are poor in spirit.

The poverty of the Holy Family is their complete independence from all that the world considers valuable and important. They had nothing. What little they were given, they accepted with gratitude. When they were asked to surrender it, they did so willingly and joyously. I think of the immediate flight into Egypt at the prompting of an angel. They were ready to let go of everything, even a sense of place, a sense of belonging, and flee to a foreign (and pagan) land, without questions, in the middle of the night. True poverty of spirit.

Most of us are not called to give everything away and live on charity – we are all spiritual mendicants, not actual ones! But it isn’t the occasional dramatic renunciations God looks for, but daily attention to His will in little things. If we are detached from things, detached even from our own ideas about how things will go, we can let go without despair or resentment, accepting all as the will of God.

We can maintain this detachment by remembering to be grateful each day for all that we have, accepting what is not good out of love and obedience. Then we begin to see things in His light, to discern His will in all things.

Every evening, we should thank Him for the gift of our life, for every gift of nature and grace, every situation and circumstance in our lives, every person He has placed in our lives. And then we should surrender all back to Him.

Blessed are they who are poor in spirit; theirs is the Kingdom of God.

The utter Utterance of Adonai from all eternity

Desired to utter His Word to earth in profound obscurity.

Down through long ages of prophet and king, He tended vine and shoot,

In the fullness of time preparing a womb

to bear such glorious fruit. 

Her soul like sun-splashed crystal in the shadowless noon of day,

Her eyes ever on her Master’s hand, her feet ever in His way.

Her docile heart and God’s own love beat always as if one;

Such a living flame alone could bear the heartbeat of the Son. 

The Most High sent His messenger to this humble Nazarene;

All of Heaven held its breath, looking down upon the scene:

From the house and line of David, a maiden of unprecedented grace

By her resolute, valiant, radical “yes” gave to her God a face.