"Mary and the Y2K problem."

On my 39^th birthday (which of course was just a few short years ago), someone reminded me that I had just entered my 40^th year. I said, "Thank you so much for the good news. But if you don't mind, I'd like to enjoy my last year of being thirtysomething." Well, a similar phenomenon takes place today. Today--on January 1, 1999--the world enters its 2,000^th year of Christian history, even though the calendar won't say "2000" for another 12 months.

Now historians tell us that as the year 1,000 approached, there was a sense of both expectancy and anxiety in the hearts of many people. They wondered: What will happen when the new millennium arrives? Will the world end? Will Jesus come again? Will the world change radically in some unforeseen way? Interestingly enough, you see the same type of expectancy and anxiety in some people as we enter our 2,000^th year and approach the beginning of the third Christian millennium. Of course there is one added issue that people today have to deal with, which those who lived in 999 did not have to face: the Y2K problem! (Y there stands for year, 2k stands for 2,000). If you haven't heard of this yet--you most certainly will in the very near future. In fact, just last Sunday there was a front page article on the subject in the Providence Journal. It all has to do with computers--those pesky little machines that that the world has come to depend on. It seems that way back in the 1950's and 60's, when computer memory was at a premium, programmers decided to designate what year it was by using two digits instead of four. Their thinking was: why waste all that valuable memory for two extra digits? And so 1955 was designated as 55, 1960 was designated as 60, and so on. Well, now they're afraid that when the year two thousand arrives, those very same computers will interpret 00 as meaning 1900, and not 2,000. And since computers programmed in this way now control everything from banking to electricity to air traffic, some are predicting all sorts of terrible consequences as a result of widespread computer breakdowns: blackouts, disasters at airports and hospitals, a lack of food and water--you name the tragedy, somebody is saying it will happen at 12am on January first of the year 2,000.

Why do I mention this today? It's because Mary teaches us what our attitude should be in the midst of this crisis (be it real or only imagined). One way or another, Mary teaches us that we are to have an attitude of prayerful trust. Have you ever noticed that the Blessed Mother always appears calm and serene in the Scriptures? She never appears frantic or out of control. It doesn't seem that she was ever thrown into a turmoil by what was going on around her! For example, when Gabriel appeared to her and asked her to be the Mother of God, her response was a calm and simple question about the details: "How can this be, since I do not know man?" A very logical question if you're a virgin and have taken a vow declaring that you never intend to have sexual relations with your husband in your marriage. At Cana in Galilee, when the newly married couple was about to be embarrassed because the wine had run out at their wedding celebration, Mary did not go to her Son in a panic and say, "Jesus, Jesus, quick, you've got to do something!" She calmly went up to him and said (quite matter-of-factly), "They have no more wine." And then she went to the stewards and said, "Do whatever he tells you." Even at the foot of the Cross, as she watched her only Son die before her eyes, Scripture indicates that she was peaceful and composed--although she was certainly experiencing deep sadness and emotional pain.

Was this a coincidence? Was it simply by chance that Mary was able to be so serene in the midst of such difficult situations? I don't think so. I think Mary was serene because she had a deep trust in God--a trust that was rooted in a strong prayer life. In today's gospel text from Luke, chapter 2, we are told that Mary "treasured all these things and reflected on them in her heart." These "things" were the events of her life--in this case the events surrounding the birth of her Son. These were the things she constantly prayed about and meditated on. She took them to the Lord in prayer and said, "Heavenly Father, help me to understand what you're doing in me and through me and all around me. Help me to perceive your presence in these wonderful but confusing events of my life. Give me the wisdom I will need to raise your Son; give me the grace I will need to fulfill the awesome mission you've entrusted to me."

And when she meditated on the events of her life, she no doubt thought of the promises God had made to his people in his Word--promises which gave her confidence and inner strength: God's promise to bless those who placed their trust in him; God's promise to strengthen the weak and raise up the lowly. These were promises that Mary knew well. As she said in her beautiful prayer, the Magnificat: "[God] has shown might with his arm . . . [he has] raised the lowly to high places . . . he has upheld Israel his servant . . . even as he promised our fathers, promised Abraham and his descendants forever."