December 19, 2021 (4th Sunday of Advent)

“Meet me at Mary’s Place”

by Deacon John Kerrigan

[This is the text composed by the homilist prior to delivering the homily.]

Bruce Springsteen’s album “The Rising” appeared on the scene just about twenty years ago. Its theme: the 2001 September 11th terrorist attacks in New York, Pennsylvania, and Washington, DC. Springsteen hoped that his songs might capture the enormity of what had happened to the people of this country and begin to heal their grief. Songs like “My City in Ruin,” “Into the Fire,” and “Empty Sky” became emblematic of a generation. Springsteen later admitted that his inspiration for this album came from a stranger who, a few days after 9/11, stopped his car, rolled down the window, and said, “We need you NOW.”

“Mary’s Place” is one of the songs found on the album; its focus is also the co-star of today’s gospel passage. Springsteen, raised Catholic, admitted as much during a 2005 interview. The song’s narrator is lost and mourning, his heart is “dark but it’s rising.” Rising because he also hears a voice “from that black hole on the horizon.” “Meet me at Mary’s place” is the song’s refrain.

If ever we needed Mary and Mary’s place, it is today, here on the eve of Christmas 2021; we will also need both during the year 2022 and well beyond. Why? Because the Mary we find in today’s gospel, and during the years that followed, models for us two important journeys: that critical passage we must all make from our heads to our hearts as well as that journey beyond ourselves so that we might encounter the joys and sorrows found in the lives of the people we meet along the way. 

In the text immediately prior to today’s Scripture reading, we find Mary responding “yes” to the angel’s invitation. Had she responded solely from her head, however, she might very well have said, “Thanks, but no thanks.” But she didn’t. Instead, she replied, “Be it done to me according to God’s will.” Mary placed the life-giving powers of her body hand-in-hand with God’s invitation and in so doing, she changed the direction of her life and the course of human history.

When my daughter Lulu graduated from college in 2018 and was wondering what to do about her future, my advice to her was logical: take advantage of the best job market for young people in a generation. But she had other ideas in mind and responded, “Dad, I’m joining the Peace Corps, and I’m going to Africa.” She followed her heart and she loved it.

In March 2020, however, Lulu found herself on a plane headed back to the US as she and her fellow volunteers were quickly evacuated from their postings. She spent the COVID lockdown at home in California. True to form, I continued to give her logical advice: pursue opportunities at private schools here in the suburbs on the Peninsula. Where is she now? In Baltimore, teaching at an inner-city grammar school and pursuing a graduate degree.

OK, so I am a lousy mentor. But the point of the story is this: Lulu has a unique ability to follow her heart, her passion, her values. As you have probably concluded already, she didn’t inherit that heart sense from me. 

The journey that we must all make to “Mary’s place” brings alive in us a spirit of discernment, an abiding trust, a profound attitude of contemplation. So often you and I see ourselves as women and men trying our best to become spiritual. The life of Mary and Christian revelation, however, beckons us in another direction. Both remind us that fundamentally our task is to learn how to become human. And just how do we accomplish that end? By taking advantage of those white spaces in our lives, becoming at home with silence, capitalizing on the opportunities that we have for mediation each day. Even five or ten minutes of reflection while having a cup of coffee in the morning or reading the day’s scripture passages advances us on our journey toward discerning God’s dream for us. As Karl Rahner, one of the greatest theologians of the 20th century wrote, “Have the courage to be alone; have the courage to be silent.”

Entering into the joys and struggles of others is the second journey that each of us is called to make. Just as Mary, a pregnant 14 or 15-year-old, “set out and journeyed in haste,” traveling eighty miles through the steep Judean hill country to comfort her elderly cousin, you and I are called to journey into the lives of those people who could use our help the most. 

Here’s but one example: a mental health tsunami is upon us. Due to a variety of causes, and exacerbated by COVID shutdowns, our nation has seen an increase in everything from depression and anxiety to greater alcohol and drug use, antisocial behavior, and teen and young adult suicide. This fall, a university nearby experienced the trauma of two young men on campus who took their own lives.

Today’s encounter between Mary and Elizabeth challenges you and me to make haste and identify those ways we can help mitigate these mental health challenges. Remember the man who pulled up next to Bruce Springsteen’s car said, “We need you, now?” Our response can cover a wide range, starting with the way we raise our children, hopefully teaching them to be “up-standers,” and not solely bystanders with their classmates. We can also take advantage of volunteer opportunities or contribute financial support to organizations addressing mental health issues.

So, as we set out on this last week of Advent and complete our final preparation for Christmas, may we visit and revisit Mary’s place. After all, she is the model par excellence of a contemplative in action. Also, let’s agree to commit ourselves during this new year to listen more carefully to God’s word and to be open to the stirrings of the Spirit in the ordinary experiences of our lives.

Elizabeth said to Mary, “Blessed are you because you have listened to God’s word and followed it.” May we be able to say to one another: blessed are you, for in word and by action you bring Jesus to our world. Let us commit ourselves to that task and, in so doing, bring to its fullness his reign of peace and justice among us. Amen.