Homily for the Fourth Sunday of Advent: “The Marian Silence”

OT Reading: 2 Samuel 7:1-11, 16

Gospel reading: Luke 1:26-38

In the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

Mystery begins where words end.

There are some aspects of the Christian faith that cannot be expressed in words— they are mysteries to be intuitively felt, not propositions to be analyzed. The Blessed Virgin Mary, and her place in the story of salvation, belongs to this realm of mystery.

We do not preach Mary to the world. We preach Christ crucified and risen. That is our outward proclamation. But Mary remains a part of the inward memory of the Church, part of the inner tradition— “the secret joy” of the Church. Her presence is real, if elusive.

Mary is the one who says “yes” to God by saying yes to the Archangel Gabriel. He approaches her with the mission of being the Mother of the Messiah— of bearing God incarnate within her. And she accepts: “Behold, I am the servant of the Lord. Let it be with me according to thy word.”

Mary says yes to Christ— another way we can put it is that she makes room for Christ. There has always been a space in the world for God to dwell. He dwelt in the Tabernacle while the Israelites wandered in the wilderness. He dwelt in the Temple in Jerusalem. And now He comes to dwell in a new temple— a temple made not of stone but of flesh and blood. A living temple. “The Word became flesh and made his dwelling among us.” But where did he first become flesh? In the silence of her womb.

So Mary is the one who makes room for Christ, makes room for him in her body but also in her life. By accepting this calling to be the Mother of the Lord, her life will change forever. Her life will now revolve around him. Any new mother will tell you that since the birth of her child, her life has revolved around that child— bathing him and clothing him and feeding him and caring for him. And even as the child grows up and gains more independence, the identity as the Mother remains.

This life that Mary shares with her Son is a mystery. We have various stories in the Gospel about her and Jesus— the birth of Christ, the visit of the Magi, the finding in the Temple, the wedding at Cana. But the great majority of their life together is not recorded for us in the Gospels.

We know that she raised him, that he grew up with her. They spend years together, as Jesus grows from infant to toddler to child. She nurses him, she teaches him and plays with him. He becomes a teenager and grows into a man, and she sees the changes. Between them pass thousands of hours, thousands of conversations, countless little moments. That intimate relationship between Mother and Son is a mystery: unrecorded and undisclosed.

And so Mary is also the one who contemplates the Word-made-flesh in silence. Because the mystery of Christ is not revealed to her all at once. A book does not drop from heaven that explains the meaning of Christ and of his life and of her life. It becomes clear to her only gradually, in the quiet moments she spends with him in those hidden years in Nazareth. She ponders all these things in her heart, in silence. And so she gradually realizes who he is, and therefore the dignity of her own role as his Mother. The mystery is revealed to her in that luminous silence. And it is the silence of Mary, not her words, that distinguishes her in the Gospels.

Certainly, she speaks in the Gospel— she speaks with the Angel Gabriel, she magnifies the Lord in her song of praise, she intercedes with Jesus to help the family at the wedding in Cana. But mostly she keeps silent. At the foot of the Cross, she doesn’t utter a word. And on the Day of Pentecost, when the other disciples begin to speak in the Spirit and St. Peter gives his sermon to the crowds, her voice is not heard. We may even say that they were granted the gift of tongues, and she the gift of silence. Mary is the one who attends to the Mystery of the Word in prayerful silence.¹

By reflecting on Mary, we begin to see our own calling. Do we make room for Christ in our lives? Have we created that interior space where we can attend to Christ in silence? The world is so loud, so filled with noise and information. If we’re not careful, we can fill ourselves until there’s no room left in us for silence or mystery. Mary came to know her Son and her God not by mastering information, but by prayerful attention.

When we make space for Christ in our souls, he reveals himself to us. “Whoever loves me will be loved by my Father, and I will love him and reveal myself to him” (John 14:21). Christ reveals himself to us, not in words but in silence; not in information but in personal communion. We must make room for this silence. For it is abiding in the peace of that silence that we gain the strength to speak and sing and celebrate the mystery of Christ.

As we prepare to celebrate Christmas this evening, and especially as we head into the New Year, let us remember that Marian silence. We too can say yes to Christ. We too can make room for Christ and contemplate him in that interior space in our souls beyond words. We too can ponder these things in our hearts… and like Mary bear God within us. Amen.

References

1. Zelinksy, Vladimir. “Mary in the Mystery of the Church: The Orthodox Search for Unity” in Mary: Co-Redemptrix, Mediatrix, Advocate: Theological Foundations II (Santa Barbara: Queenship Publishing 1997), page 188.

This homily was also inspired by the poetry of Karol Wojtyla, especially “Her amazement at her only child.”