Shepherds, the crowded inn, the manger, the ox and the ass, Herod, the silent night, the little baby; humility, poverty, weakness, littleness, obscurity; we have rightly dwelt much on these things these past days. Now today, on the eighth day, we emphasise the other aspect of the same mystery: power, majesty, divinity, glory; light, grace, truth; salvation, redemption, divinisation: for the name of this child is Jesus (Lk 2:21), which means God’s power to save. Who is this little baby? He is God’s eternal Word made flesh; He is God the Son Incarnate; He holds the stars in His hands, and knows all the secrets of our hearts, for through Him all things came to be, and without Him nothing that has being can exist.
In the early Fifth century the Patriarch of Constantinople was a learned theologian who prided himself on his anti-Arian orthodoxy. Yet he came to be known as a heresiarch; one of history’s great corrupters of the Christian faith, almost ranking with Arius himself. Nestorius seems to have been very content to honour Mary as Mother of Jesus, Mother of the Messiah, Mother of the Redeemer. But he would not call her Mother of God. And so, even if unwittingly, he compromised the mystery; even emptied it out. Nestorius refused to acknowledge that wonderful exchange of which our liturgy sings, the admirabile commercium. According to the Catholic and Apostolic faith, God Himself took on our humanity, in order to give us a share in his divinity. God the Son made himself Son of Mary, in order that we might be made Sons of God. As St. Paul put it to the Galatians: in Him we are slaves no longer, but sons; and if sons, then also heirs (cf. Gal 4:7).
What is that baby doing, there in the crib? He is exercising power that he alone possesses: power to free our world from the grip of the devil, and from slavery to corruption. Already he is busy with the work he came to do: to set each of us free from sin and death; to reconcile us with his Father; to sanctify us; to give us eternal life with himself in heaven.
And what is his Mother doing, there in that stable? She is loving him as her child, and worshipping him as her Lord. She is dedicating her whole life to him, without condition or qualification, to the end, in order to cooperate in all his work. She is magnifying God in her heart, and saying “Yes” in advance to everything he will ever ask of her.
The Collect of today’s Mass touches on the mystery of Our Lady’s grace and merit. Of course no one can merit to receive God. The very idea is ridiculous. The coming of God the eternal Creator to us his mortal creatures can only be sheer gift, grace, overflowing divine goodness. Yet we say that God’s grace is so abundant, so generous, that he enables us also to merit. So Our Lady’s graced consent at the Annunciation was an act of sovereign freedom, and also truly meritorious. Setting aside the acts of Christ himself, this was at once the most graced act in human history, and also the most perfectly free, and also the most meritorious. Our Collect asks that, through Mary, we too might enter into that circle of grace, gift, freedom, merit, exchange. With and through Mary, we also can say “Yes” to God. In particular today we want to say “Yes” to all that God will ask of us this coming year; “Yes” also to all he wants to give us; “Yes” to Jesus; “Yes” to our life in him.
As today we celebrate Mary’s divine Motherhood, we hear God in turn saying “Yes” to us. “Yes”, that is, to all humanity’s purest, best, dearest, most noble, most sublime aspirations, desires, yearnings: desire for God; desire for life; for holiness; for union; for love. These aspirations were without contamination or compromise or qualification in Mary. And God’s response was without measure or limit or comparison, in Jesus Christ our Lord.
I wonder if I might be allowed to say something a bit personal now? This year in August will mark the 25th anniversary of my Ordination to the Priesthood. That’s a cause for thanksgiving, without any question. But for me, even more so, it’s an urgent and alarming call to conversion. I feel like the man with the Talent in the parable, or like the dishonest Steward in another parable, called to give an account for what he has been given (cf. Mt 25, Lk 19, Lk 16). What fruits of holiness there should have been; what perfect conformity to Jesus Christ; what burning and transforming love for God, for the Church, for the brethren! And instead, with shame and sorrow, I have to acknowledge myself to have been slothful, unobservant, negligent (HR 73:7).
How can I possibly correct this dire situation? In whatever little time might remain to me? It seems to me that there are two very obvious and divinely indicated pathways I should take: ever greater devotion to Mary, and ever greater devotion to the Holy Eucharist. Why? Because we receive Jesus through Mary, and we receive Jesus through the Holy Eucharist. So in both of them we have the source of living water. Probably I should add a third: greater devotion also to Holy Scripture. Why so much devotion? Because in comparison with what they give us, nothing else whatever matters. Nothing, nothing, nothing! And having this gift, we have to let it have its effect on us, and we have to mediate it for others.
So today once again we ask the Holy Spirit to come on us as he came on the Holy Virgin, and as he comes on the Eucharistic elements. May he cast divine fire in our hearts. May he set us aflame with divine love. Then with Blessed Mary, with the whole Catholic Church, may we be found worthy to stand in his presence, and to serve him (cf. EP II: anamnesis).