As we begin Advent’s final week, the Gospel takes us to Mary immediately after the Annunciation. What is her first impulse after the Angel departs…her first action having just conceived in her womb the Eternal Son of the Father? She had every reason to be concerned about her own needs at such a time. To whom could she confide this mystery? How could she speak of it so that others could believe her? Did she go to Saint Joseph? On this, Saint Luke is silent, but he does tell us that Joseph would not understand until an angel would enlighten him in a dream.
Mary is told that her cousin Elizabeth is with child and already in her sixth month. Mary is not told to go to Elizabeth, but she sets out in haste to visit her. This meant a journey of sixty miles over treacherous terrain and facing the dangers posed by bandits along the route.
Mary undertakes this journey not out of curiosity to confirm the angel’s message, but out of love. Love makes one forgetful of self. Love does not count the cost. In The Imitation of Christ, Thomas a’ Kempis wrote: “Love flies, runs, and leaps for joy…Love knows no limits, but transcends all bounds. Love feels no burden, takes no account of toil, attempts things beyond its strength. Love sees nothing as impossible, for it feels able to achieve all things.” This is the love of Mary. What is easy to forget is that all this is undertaken by an adolescent girl of resolute, determined character! Mary travels with Jesus in her womb, but it is Jesus who guides her. Through Mary, Jesus brings salvation and joy into the house of Zechariah and Elizabeth. Jesus is revealing himself from the very start of his coming into the world.
Mary’s greeting to Elizabeth provokes a reaction. Filled with the Holy Spirit, Elizabeth proclaims, “Blessed are you among women and blessed is the fruit of your womb. And how does this happen to me, that the mother of my Lord should come to me?”
Elizabeth reveals the mystery Mary had hidden within herself. Elizabeth recognizes who it is who enters her house and so does the child in her womb, who leaps for joy!
All this is prefigured in the Old Testament. In Genesis, Esau and Jacob leaped in the womb of Rebekah who was thought barren. She was told that the older will serve the younger. Now we see that the older John will serve the younger Jesus.
Think of the Ark of the Covenant. The Ark was the gilded chest, made of wood thought to be incorruptible. It contained the tablets of the Law, the rod of Aaron, and a jar of manna the Israelites received in the desert.
The Church calls Mary the “New Ark of the Covenant,” because she is immaculate, uncorrupted by sin, and carried in her womb, the Giver of the Law, the One who would shepherd his people with rod and staff, and feed them with new manna, the Bread of Life in the Eucharist.
Elizabeth’s response echoes the awe of King David who asked when he was bringing the Ark of the Covenant to Jerusalem, “How can the ark of the Lord, come to me?” and just as he danced before the Ark when it was enshrined in Jerusalem, so John in the womb, leaps with joy in the presence of the Savior.
Reflecting on the Visit of Mary to Elizabeth, I’d like to pose some simple questions for our meditation in these final, hectic days before Christmas:
When Sunday rolls around, do I leap with joy from my bed and want to dance coming into church?
On a serious note:
How often am I guilty of sins of omission, failing to do respond in love to the needs and sufferings of others?
What effect does my receiving Jesus in the Eucharist have in my daily words and actions?
Can I say that, like Mary, I bring Jesus into the lives of others?
Does the Mass and my reception of the Eucharist bring me a joy that is evident to those I meet?
When Sunday rolls around, do I leap with joy from my bed and want to dance in the presence of God?