(Mary, the Mother of God, 1998: This homily was given on January 1, 1998 at St. Pius X Church, Westerly, R.I. by Fr. Raymond Suriani. Read Luke 2: 16-21.)
"Mary, the Intimidator."
Several years ago, Arnold Schwarzenegger starred in the movie, The Terminator. Today, on this first day of 1998, we focus our attention on Mary, the Intimidator—although you’re not likely to find a movie with that title at your local theater anytime in the near future.
Why call Mary "The Intimidator?" She was, after all, a humble maiden from Nazareth. She was certainly nothing like that television character, Xena, who swings a big sword and beats up people on a regular basis.
If we think of intimidation merely in physical terms, then it’s true: the term is totally inappropriate for our Blessed Mother. But there are other kinds of intimidation besides the physical variety, and one of the most difficult types to deal with is what you might call the intimidation of perfection (or near-perfection). This is what a novice skier experiences, for example, when he skis with an expert. He sees how his ability pales in comparison to the talent of the expert, and he feels intimidated. This is how I feel when my computer-expert friends come by to fix my computer. When I watch them get into programs and change configurations with such ease, I’m amazed—and sometimes intimidated--because I know that if I ever tried to do what they do I’d blow the machine up!
Mary’s intimidation, of course, has nothing to do with skiing or computers; it has to do with the most important aspects of life: our relationship with God, and our relationships with other people. It’s here that Mary’s perfection challenges us. We think of her and say, "How could she have been so faithful? How could she have avoided sin for her entire life? How could she have said ‘Yes’ to the Lord in every circumstance she faced? She was a human person like I am. She was not divine." Let’s face it, my brothers and sisters, Mary’s holiness can be very intimidating. We look at her, for example, and we see a woman filled with the virtue of humility. Humility, in fact, was at the very heart of her holiness. Well, I don’t think it’s news to any of us: humility is not a popular virtue in the modern world. Generally speaking, people today want to be noticed; they want to be the center of attention. Mary never sought public acclaim. During the wedding feast at Cana, she told the steward, "Do whatever [my son] Jesus tells you," and then she disappeared from the scene. She was the one who came up with the bright idea that saved the celebration, but she didn’t want the glory. That was the pattern of her life; she was always content to remain in the background.
Another aspect of Mary’s holiness was her willingness to embrace suffering—not as an end in itself, but rather as a path to salvation. When the Blessed Mother and St. Joseph brought Jesus into the Temple to present him to the Lord, the old man Simeon prophesied that a sword would pierce the Mary’s heart. That sword struck its horrible blow on Good Friday, as Mary watched her son die before her very eyes. But Mary knew that her son was in the process of saving the world, so she endured the pain. That type of perseverance is a challenge to us in the midst of the sufferings we face in our lives.
Mary also challenges us regarding our attitude toward innocent human life. Remember that she was young, unmarried and pregnant; yet she embraced the life that was in her womb, and allowed that child to be born into this world on Christmas day. That kind of openness to life is intimidating to certain people in our culture who value "choice" more than human beings.
Mary even challenges us concerning our priorities. In the Blessed Mother’s life it’s clear that the spiritual was more important than the physical. Her first concern was not to gratify her bodily appetites; her first concern was to do the will of the Lord. Following the heavenly Father’s plan, she remained a virgin even after the birth of Jesus. Furthermore, she didn’t run away from the physical and emotional trials that came her way as she cared for and raised the Son of God. Her attitude was, "Whatever God wants me to do, I will do, even if it’s physically difficult, because the spiritual is more important than the physical." As she said to Gabriel at the Annunciation, "Be it done unto me according to thy word, [O Lord]." In today’s world, of course, the tendency is for people to be overly concerned with their physical well-being, such that God’s will is merely a secondary consideration. Mary intimidates all those who have that attitude.
It’s impossible in one homily to list all the ways that the Blessed Mother challenges us, but I will mention one more, because it relates directly to gospel text we heard a few moments ago: Mary challenges us to be thinking people. Because we have so many educational opportunities in the modern world, we may be tempted to believe that we live in a thinking, rational age of human history. We do not. Sadly, most men and women today (even I dare say most so-called intellectuals) live by their emotions, not by logic and reason. If it feels right, they do it. Mary was different. Mary was a thinking woman. Relative to the events surrounding the birth of Jesus, for example, St. Luke tells us that "Mary treasured all these things and reflected on them in her heart." She pondered what God had done, learned from her experience, and applied those lessons to her life.
Hopefully we come here today because we love Mary. But there are many individuals in the world right now who hate her. They speak disparagingly of her; they ridicule her holiness and purity; they make light of her role in salvation history. These are individuals who have responded to the Blessed Mother in the wrong way. They’ve been intimidated by her holiness, and have refused to open their hearts to God and change their lives.
But for those who respond differently—for those who overcome whatever intimidation they might feel toward this great woman, Mary becomes a true inspiration: a loving Mother; a beacon of hope in the midst of the many difficulties of life. I was reminded of this recently when I came across a letter that was written a few years ago to the editors of Our Sunday Visitor, the national weekly Catholic newspaper. Every year they ask people to write in and share personal Christmas memories. This letter was from a woman in western Massachusetts: a woman who initially was intimidated by Mary (at least to some extent). She saw the contrast between herself and the Blessed Mother. But, thankfully, she overcame that intimidation, and it made a tremendous difference in her life.
I was cold, lonely, not knowing God, trying to make sense of my miserable life. I had already decided that abortion was not an option, but I never dreamed how difficult the choice for life would be. Crying, I came upon a Nativity scene in front of one of the local churches and sat down in the snow. Looking at the statue of Mary, I said, "You too, huh?" I knew Mary and I were very different, but I could see the similarities too.
I sat there through the night, at times feeling sorry for myself, at other times feeling sorry for Mary, who was also young, pregnant, and homeless. As daybreak came, a light snow began to fall, and I felt a sense of warmth, a peace, and a confidence that everything would be OK.
Things were OK. I lived on the streets throughout the winter, but managed to rent a small, furnished apartment before the birth of my child. I formed solid relationships with helpful people, finished high school, and was able to provide a modest living for myself and my daughter.
In 1982, both my daughter and I shared a tremendous conversion experience and became active members of the Church. We share a strong devotion to Our Lady, too. This conversion began on Christmas Eve, 1962, when Jesus’ gift of faith, hope, and love was planted in my heart while waiting with His mother for His birth. Each year at Advent, I put up a manger and await the birth of Jesus, and on Christmas Eve, relive the memory of that first Christmas with the virgin in 1962.
This is my story, and this was my best Christmas.
Eileen O’Grady
As Mary inspired Eileen, so may she inspire all of us to follow Jesus more faithfully in the coming year. For us, may she never be "Mary, the Intimidator;" may she be Mary, our life, our sweetness and our hope.