Dec. 22 — Lk 1:39-45
“How does this happen to me, that the mother of my Lord should come to me?”
These words of St. Elizabeth, mother of John the Baptist, encapsulate for us well the spirit that this season of Advent should bring about in our own souls. Elizabeth, in the presence of Mary and the unborn Jesus, expresses a humility that leads to gratitude, surprise, and joy, as well as a faith that leads to hope and love.
First, there is Elizabeth’s humility. She could already have been considered one of the greats of her time, both by worldly and spiritual standards. Her husband was a priest of the Jerusalem temple, chosen to enter the sanctuary itself for the evening sacrifice, a privilege not guaranteed to a priest. She herself had become pregnant by a miracle of grace, announced in the temple itself by the angel Gabriel. Elizabeth is a woman of some real consequence, and at another time in Israel’s history, she and her son would likely have been the protagonists, the main conduits of divine action.
This does not mean that we should expect her to be haughty, but it does help us to understand just how sensitive she is to the gifts of God. No matter how many great gifts she has received, she has not taken a single one for granted, nor does she see herself as entitled to them. We know how sensitive she is to God’s goodness not just in that she feels surprised joy at Mary’s visit, but in that she rejoices in the greater gift that Mary has received without a shred of envy.
Then there is Elizabeth’s faith. She instantly recognizes that Mary is carrying the Messiah, whom she calls “my Lord.” This confession of faith in Jesus, even before his birth leads her to understand that God’s definitive act of salvation, the relief for which all Israel hoped for centuries, has begun. God has not forgotten his people, and they can look with courage to the future.
To make use of a short definition of hope, Elizabeth believes that she and her people matter to God, that he will not fail to come to their rescue, give them the help they sorely need, and now she sees that her hope was well placed. Of course, this faith and hope both reveal and lead to love in Elizabeth’s soul. She has longed for the arrival of God’s Messiah, desire being a sure marker of love, and now standing in the presence of the one whom she has loved, she is stunned in joy, the mark of possessing what is loved.
So then, Elizabeth gives us a standard against which we can compare our own spiritual lives this Advent. How sensitive have we remained to God’s goodness and his gifts? Do we presume on the Lord’s generosity? Do we complain against him when things become difficult, or do we recognize that in an earthly life that was always going to include sufferings, every good thing comes from God as a mercy? Do we believe with hope? Are we confident that we matter to God, and that he will not fail to provide us what we need to reach him? Do we long for God? Do we set our thoughts and desires on him and his kingdom? Do we refuse to content ourselves with mere pleasure, honor, success, and possessions, and hold out for heaven instead?
If we grow in choosing these sentiments, not only will we progress in holiness, but we will also gain access to the overwhelming joy that Elizabeth knew the moment she saw Mary carrying Jesus, and we will be more prepared for the overwhelming joy of eternity.
Fr. Rampino is studying at the Catholic University in Washington with residence at Blessed Sacrament Church in Alexandria.
Faith that leads to hope and love
The Visitation of the Blessed Virgin Mary is depicted in this stained-glass window at Sacre Coeur (sacred heart) de Castellane Church in Castellane, France. Adobestock.
Mary-Elizabeth_AdobeStock_434877040_WEB
Dec. 22 — Lk 1:39-45
“How does this happen to me, that the mother of my Lord should come to me?”
These words of St. Elizabeth, mother of John the Baptist, encapsulate for us well the spirit that this season of Advent should bring about in our own souls. Elizabeth, in the presence of Mary and the unborn Jesus, expresses a humility that leads to gratitude, surprise, and joy, as well as a faith that leads to hope and love.
First, there is Elizabeth’s humility. She could already have been considered one of the greats of her time, both by worldly and spiritual standards. Her husband was a priest of the Jerusalem temple, chosen to enter the sanctuary itself for the evening sacrifice, a privilege not guaranteed to a priest. She herself had become pregnant by a miracle of grace, announced in the temple itself by the angel Gabriel. Elizabeth is a woman of some real consequence, and at another time in Israel’s history, she and her son would likely have been the protagonists, the main conduits of divine action.
This does not mean that we should expect her to be haughty, but it does help us to understand just how sensitive she is to the gifts of God. No matter how many great gifts she has received, she has not taken a single one for granted, nor does she see herself as entitled to them. We know how sensitive she is to God’s goodness not just in that she feels surprised joy at Mary’s visit, but in that she rejoices in the greater gift that Mary has received without a shred of envy.
Then there is Elizabeth’s faith. She instantly recognizes that Mary is carrying the Messiah, whom she calls “my Lord.” This confession of faith in Jesus, even before his birth leads her to understand that God’s definitive act of salvation, the relief for which all Israel hoped for centuries, has begun. God has not forgotten his people, and they can look with courage to the future.
To make use of a short definition of hope, Elizabeth believes that she and her people matter to God, that he will not fail to come to their rescue, give them the help they sorely need, and now she sees that her hope was well placed. Of course, this faith and hope both reveal and lead to love in Elizabeth’s soul. She has longed for the arrival of God’s Messiah, desire being a sure marker of love, and now standing in the presence of the one whom she has loved, she is stunned in joy, the mark of possessing what is loved.
So then, Elizabeth gives us a standard against which we can compare our own spiritual lives this Advent. How sensitive have we remained to God’s goodness and his gifts? Do we presume on the Lord’s generosity? Do we complain against him when things become difficult, or do we recognize that in an earthly life that was always going to include sufferings, every good thing comes from God as a mercy? Do we believe with hope? Are we confident that we matter to God, and that he will not fail to provide us what we need to reach him? Do we long for God? Do we set our thoughts and desires on him and his kingdom? Do we refuse to content ourselves with mere pleasure, honor, success, and possessions, and hold out for heaven instead?
If we grow in choosing these sentiments, not only will we progress in holiness, but we will also gain access to the overwhelming joy that Elizabeth knew the moment she saw Mary carrying Jesus, and we will be more prepared for the overwhelming joy of eternity.
Fr. Rampino is studying at the Catholic University in Washington with residence at Blessed Sacrament Church in Alexandria.
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