Sermon for the Fourth Sunday of Advent

My name is Mary, a form of the name Miriam. I was named after the famous sister of Moses. The name was common among Jewish women in those days.

My parents were Joachim and Ann. We moved around when I was young, but I mainly grew up in the staunch Jewish settlement of Nazareth in the hills of Galilee, not far from the important caravan routes linking Egypt and Mesopotamia.

The Jews there were a strong, robust people. The hill climate was dry and healthful. And though the land often lacked water and no one knew from one year to the next if enough rain would fall or if invading locusts or field mice would spoil the crops -- still, facing uncertainty only made our people more hard-working and close-knit. Struggling for a living deepened our religious spirit. We learned you must depend on God always.

Daily Life

I lived with my family in a small house of stone and mud-brick. All the girls in our village worked hard, grinding wheat and barley into flour, preparing dishes of beans, vegetables, eggs, fruits, nuts, and occasional chunks of mutton. Wool had to be made into clothing. Bread had to be baked. A few chickens and a donkey had to be fed. And in the village, small as it was, there were always little children to care for.

My least favorite job was carrying a large jar of water from the town well for washing and cooking (the well still supplies modern Nazareth today and is called "Mary's Well"). Our Jewish ancestors believed cleanliness prevented disease, so frequent washing -- an important chore of women -- became part of our religious practice. The only good part of the job was meeting my friends at the well and trading gossip.

Our lives were regulated by the seasons and times of harvest. With the first downpour of rain in October, the vital wheat crop was sown on the mountain fields, to be gathered -- if all went well -- in May. Small dark olives, knocked from dull green trees in September, had to be pressed into oil for lamps and food. In May or June, early figs were picked; in July, the softer juicy fruit. Grapes and pomegranates ripened in September and October. God blessed the hills of Galilee with his bounty, but it could never be taken for granted. The unpredictable land could just as well give nothing to those working it.

We were a close-knit community. Few strangers visited our town. We had little wealth, culture or learning. But just as a tiny drop of water contains a wealth of living organisms, so the small town of Nazareth had a rich life of its own. Children were born, young people married, someone died and was buried. A sheep was lost, a family quarreled, a son left home. From such small things, life's deepest lessons could be learned.

A Rich Faith

The people of Nazareth had a strong Jewish faith. As God's chosen people, descendants of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob, we believed this land was theirs, given to our ancestors whom Moses led out of Egypt. We knew by heart the deeds of kings like David and Solomon and the words of prophets like Isaiah and Elijah. Even though the Romans, with Herod's family as their puppets, now occupied Palestine, we Jews believed God would someday send a Messiah who would free Israel from her enemies.

We lived in a war-torn land. For centuries before the Roman occupation, conquering armies of Babylonians, Assyrians, Persians and Greeks fought over Palestine. Despite their wars, revolts and riots, the Jews remained a subject people -- taxed, bullied and despised by succeeding rulers. Like their compatriots, the Jews of Nazareth were never far from the dangers of political violence. During the Jewish uprisings in Galilee around 6 A.D. -- when Jesus was a child -- Roman legions captured the nearby city of Sepphoris, sold all its inhabitants into slavery and burned the city to the ground.

For some Jews, foreign domination only fanned the fires of revolution more brightly in their hearts. Others, like the Pharisees, became more strictly conservative and exclusive in their religious practices. Still others, like me and many ordinary people of the land, became more and more aware that they were powerless themselves, but God, the all- powerful, could raise up the lowly.

I grew up with a strong faith in God. But I had so many questions. Unfortunately as a woman it was hard to be taken seriously. Sometimes I felt I was only valued as a mother and a wife. As soon as I hit puberty at thirteen, my parents already had me as good as married. They chose Joseph of Nazareth, a carpenter, for my husband and we were properly engaged. I was excited and a little bit scared. The year before our wedding seemed like forever. But then, something unbelievable happened:

The Annunciation

I met an angel. Yes, a real angel. Not the cute kind you see in books and paintings. This was one of God’s soldiers—a general in God’s army actually. Big, powerful, he filled the whole room with his presence. I can’t remember what he said exactly—I was speechless with fright. I do remember that he had to keep saying, “Don’t be afraid.”

He told me some amazing stuff about how God was going to send his own Son to earth and that I was supposed to be his mother. Now I was confused as well as scared. I’m not that kind of girl, I said, and besides, I just got engaged. I’m certainly not ready for a baby. But the angel was persistent. This is God’s will, he said, part of God’s plan to save the world. This is about more than just you. There are more people involved as well. Your cousin Elizabeth who is far beyond having children is also going to have a baby.

I was about to say, “Why me?” But then I remembered all the stories I had learned from the Bible—stories about people like Samuel and David and Elijah. Moments like that really help you clarify what you believe. So I took a deep breath and said, 'I am the handmaid of the Lord. I’ll do it.'

Living With Mystery

Things happened kind of fast after that. When I told Joseph, he kind of freaked out. Luckily for me, the angel came back to smooth things over with him. But we were sure the talk of the town. All the gossip started driving me crazy. I remembered what the angel had said about Elizabeth, so I decided to get out of town for a while and visit her. I hadn’t seen her for a while and I was a little nervous. After all, her husband was a priest and might not be too happy to have an unmarried pregnant houseguest.

But when I arrived all my fears were put away. Not only did she welcome me with open arms, but she was the first to really understand what was happening. The moment I arrived another amazing thing happened. Her baby gave an enormous kick and Elizabeth cried out with joy and said,

Mary you are blessed and so is your baby. I can’t believe my good fortune that the mother of my Lord should come to visit me.

And so here I am, waiting to see what will happen. I have so many questions: What will this baby be like? Will he be like other children? Will he really be mine? How can I possibly parent God’s holy Son? How will Joseph handle this strange situation? Will my Son really be the Savior? Lots of questions. No answers yet—only the faith that God will be with me.

[1] based on “Mary, the Mother of Jesus” by Father Victor Hoagland, C.P. in Compassion 1988 republished online at: http://www.cptryon.org/compassion/mary/index.html.