Homily for Sunday, 15 August 2021– Solemnity of the Assumption of the Blessed Virgin Mary

Readings of the day: Revelation 11:19a, 12:1-6a,10ab; Psalm 45:10, 11, 12, 16; 1 Corinthians 15:20-27; Luke 1:39-56

A priest who is a theology professor at a university began his reflection on today’s Solemnity of the Assumption of the Blessed Virgin Mary with a story from one of his classes. He asked his students if anybody could explain the Assumption of Mary. One student answered, “Yeah, that is when the Church teaches that we assume that Mary is in heaven”!

I have never had a student answer me this, or anything similar, about the Assumption of Mary in any of my classes at St. Joseph’s College. I suppose that if a student were to answer in this way, I would quickly but gently correct the student.

Today we celebrate our belief as Catholics that, at the end of her earthly life, Mary, Mother of God; Mother of our Lord Jesus Christ, was taken by God (what we mean by “assumed”) body and soul into heaven, so no trace of her earthly existence was left on earth. This is about as simple and brief a definition of the Assumption of Mary as I think we can give.

The Assumption of the Blessed Virgin Mary was defined only in 1950 by Pope Pius XII as an essential point of our Catholic belief, that is, a dogma. But this does not mean that our belief that Mary was taken (assumed) body and soul into heaven does not go back much farther than the last seventy-one years. In fact our belief in the Assumption of the Blessed Virgin Mary is among our Church’s most ancient beliefs, dating back to at least the third century after the earthly life of Jesus.

Until the early 300s after the time of Jesus, every so often the Roman Empire endured periods of political and social instability. In response to that instability, Roman emperors tended to persecute Christians and other minority peoples within the Empire—anybody who did not worship the Roman gods. These persecutions produced martyrs in the Church, people who died to uphold their Christian faith. Until the 300s, almost all saints—people the Church proclaims as in heaven—were martyrs. Only after persecution and death for one’s faith became rare in the Roman Empire, which by then had accepted Christianity and then made it the official religion of the Empire, did the Church consider other ways than dying for one’s faith—living an exceptionally holy life—as a sign that a person was in heaven; was a saint. During this time, a tradition started in the Church of collecting any physical remains (relics) of martyrs and storing them in a visible place (catacombs) for veneration by the faithful. These Roman Martyrs were especially celebrated on the anniversaries of their deaths, their “birthday,” the day on which God took them into heaven.

But how does the veneration of saints and their relics relate to the Assumption of Mary? At about the same time as the veneration of martyrs was beginning, the Church was becoming increasingly aware that, while we have from our beginning placed Mary first and most important among the saints, no relics; no physical reminders of her earthly existence have ever been found. By this time, a tomb at the foot of the Mount of Olives near Jerusalem was already being celebrated as the place where Mary was laid at the end of her earthly life. Let us remember that our Church has never taught, one way or the other, whether Mary died; only that her body never decayed before God assumed her into heaven. In fact our Eastern Catholic and Orthodox sisters and brothers focus today’s celebration more on Mary’s Dormition, or “falling asleep” at the end of her life on earth; we Roman Catholics focus more on God having taken her into heaven. We celebrate (rightly) two aspects of the same event.

And the great celebration of Mary’s “birthday” into heaven has been on this day, August 15, since the Church’s earliest centuries. But this tomb at the Mount of Olives was empty: No body. Coincidentally, it is near another empty tomb that many Christians consider to have been the tomb of Jesus between his death and resurrection. Based on the empty tomb the Church reasoned that God must have taken Mary’s whole being (what we mean by “body and soul”) to heaven, leaving no trace; no relic of her on earth. There is even a Biblical tradition in the Jewish as well as Christian faiths of God taking especially holy people into heaven, body and soul together: Enoch in Genesis and Elijah in 2 Kings, for instance.

Today’s celebration of Mary’s “birthday,” her Assumption body and soul, into heaven has a long and beautiful history, certainly longer than the dogmatic definition of the Assumption of Mary in 1950! Yet, please allow me to say something maybe a bit controversial here: That maybe the Assumption of the Blessed Virgin Mary is not a celebration about Mary, first and foremost, but about God and God’s Son our Lord, Jesus Christ, and about us.

What do I mean by this? Our reading today from the Book of Revelation is full of fantastic imagery that I will not dare to unpack in all its detail and symbolism. We are on scene of a great cosmic battle between a “great red dragon” with “seven heads and ten horns” with a diadem on each of its heads—I envision one ugly beast, I think we can say who stands for everything that is evil—and a woman, “clothed with the sun, with the moon under her feet,” crowned with “twelve stars,” in the midst of childbirth. Only since the Middle Ages has any frequent connection been made between this woman and Mary. A far more ancient tradition in the Church is to understand this woman as a metaphor for the whole Church; all of us in our resistance toward sin and evil, which will last until the end of time.

Yet to identify the woman of Revelation as Mary is not wrong, per se, because Mary stands for all of us, the Church, and our ultimate hope as a community of faith: Eternal life; heaven. This is to say that we hope (otherwise I do not think we would be here or profess faith in “the life of the world to come” in our Creed) to reach the same destination; the same end as Mary did by her glorious Assumption. We hope, at the end of our earthly lives, to be taken, as Mary was, not only soul but body, too, into heaven. After all, in our Creed, we profess our faith in the resurrection of the body.

Mary’s Assumption into heaven is not hers alone. It is a sign and a mystery of our collective hope as Church to be taken up into heaven, body and soul, at the end of our earthly lives; at the end of time. St. Paul’s First Letter to the Corinthians makes this “order of things” clear today: First, “Christ has been raised from the dead, the firstfruits of those who have fallen asleep.” Because of Christ’s death, resurrection, and ascension to heaven, Mary; all the saints; all of us are called through the same process and the same end: Death, resurrection, ascension to heaven, body and soul. And only because of Christ’s death, resurrection, and ascension is any of this possible for us, and was any of this possible for Mary.

Today especially we greet Mary with great joy as Elizabeth did in Luke’s Gospel: “Blessed are you among women, and blessed is the fruit of your womb”! Yet I think it is important that, immediately after this joyful greeting by Elizabeth, Mary praises not herself but the Lord in the beautiful words of the prayer we know as the Magnificat: “My soul magnifies the Lord, and my spirit rejoices in God my Saviour.” But, once again, the Magnificat is not Mary’s prayer alone. It is part of a long, and very Biblical, tradition of especially women praising God for God’s saving presence among his people. We have Deborah in the Book of Judges and Moses’ sister Miriam during the Exodus as some examples of Old Testament women who praise God for God’s presence and offer of salvation to a whole people in this way. Hannah’s prayer when she conceives Samuel is almost verbatim Mary’s Magnificat in Luke.

And now the Magnificat is our prayer. We, not as disconnected individuals but as a community; a communion of faith, offer this prayer of joyful praise to God that Mary did. Yet by this prayer we acknowledge and assent to God’s way of saving us: The weak are strengthened; the proud humbled and scattered. The powerful are brought low; the lowly raised up. The hungry are filled; the rich “sent… away empty.” In God’s mercy, heaven is seen as our worldly concepts of power and worth quite literally overturned. Mary is our first model of this overturning: The insignificant young Jewish woman of a tiny village, Nazareth, who becomes the Mother of our Lord and Saviour and is taken up into heaven this day. This is only so that we will follow Mary and the saints to our “birthday” into eternal life, where there is no excess wealth or food at the expense of those who have too little; no pride at the expense of the humble; no “me” disconnected from or at the expense of “us.” If we follow Mary’s example, we will gain heaven together as Church, God’s people, a communion of faith, body and soul.

Homily for Tuesday, 22 December 2020– Tuesday of the Fourth Week of Advent

Readings of the day: 1 Samuel 1:24-28; Responsorial Canticle: 1 Samuel 2:1, 4-5, 6-7, 8abcd; Luke 1:46-56

Here is bit of Catholic trivia for us: How many Catholics have been named Time Magazine’s “Person of the Year”? The answer is fifteen.

The fifteenth and latest, of course, is U.S. President Elect Joe Biden, alongside Vice President Elect Kamala Harris (not a Catholic) for 2020. But the sixth of these fifteen Catholics to be named Time’s “Person of the Year” was Apollo 8 astronaut Bill Anders, alongside fellow Apollo 8 crew members Frank Borman and Jim Lovell, in 1968. Anders took a famous photograph of the “earthrise” from just above the surface of the moon.

In the Time interview for 1968’s “Person of the Year” issue, Anders asked rhetorically about his “earthrise” photo that made him consider how insignificant the Earth is in the universe: “Are we really that special”?

In Luke’s Gospel today, in a similar but somewhat more eloquent way than Bill Anders, Mary acknowledges that, well, we are really not all that special. In fact, we are nothing on our own, but we are everything to and with God. Mary prays in her “Magnificat” that we hear today: “My spirit rejoices in God my Saviour, for he has looked with favour on his lowly servant.”

I credit a former director of campus ministry at St. Joseph’s College [of the University of Alberta in Edmonton] for first pointing out to me that Mary’s “Magnificat” is almost verbatim the prayer of Hannah in the Old Testament in thanksgiving after conceiving her son Samuel. Hannah prays, and we hear in our Responsory Canticle today, “[God] brings low; he also exalts.”

To us, really not all “that special” as Bill Anders once pointed out, God has appeared to us as a fellow “lowly servant”; as human. And so we enter into these final preparations for our Christmas celebration of God having “looked with favour on” us, his “lowly servant(s),” a tiny speck in this immense universe and, by his Son, Jesus Christ, having exalted us; having become human like us; having made us special beyond all telling; having saved us.

Homily for Thursday, 15 August 2019– Solemnity of the Assumption of the Blessed Virgin Mary

Mass during the Day

Readings of the day: Revelation 11:19a, 12:1-6a, 10ab; Psalm 45:10, 11, 12, 16; 1 Corinthians 15:20-27; Luke 1:39-56

Thursday of the 19th Week in Ordinary Time

This homily was given at the Kateri House Women's Residence Chapel, St. Joseph's College, University of Alberta, Edmonton, and Our Lady of Perpetual Help Church, Sherwood Park, AB, Canada.

My sisters and brothers, today we celebrate the Assumption of the Blessed Virgin Mary, body and soul into heaven. But do we really celebrate Mary on this day?

Let me offer a “yes, but” answer to my own question here. I was not about to scandalize us by saying that we do not in fact celebrate Mary on this Solemnity of her Assumption. Yet, if I dare say, there is more to this celebration of Mary’s Assumption than a celebration of a woman being taken up body and soul into heaven, in a way that might conjure some almost fanciful images in our minds if we think about it long enough: How is somebody taken, body and soul, into heaven?

There have been many artistic representations of Mary’s Assumption, but none, as beautiful as they are, quite do the event justice. Even one of my favourite depictions of the Assumption of Mary, the image of Our Lady of Guadalupe, draws on imagery from our reading from Revelation today and a superimposition of Mary on the mythical woman God promises to Adam and Eve in Genesis 3, who will crush the serpent’s head and so remit the sin introduced into the world in the Fall of Adam and Eve. Our Lady of Guadalupe is surrounded by twelve stars. She stands above the earth and heavens, on the crushed head of a snake, and she is supported by St. Juan Diego, who experienced this vision of Mary, clothed also in a tilma, an Aztec garment made from cactus fibre and overflowing with roses.

I suppose it is easy enough to depict, in art or icons, a beautiful woman ascending bodily into heaven. But how would we depict a soul? This is impossible, because a soul is not visible to our senses. How do we distinguish an ascension to heaven, like that of Jesus, from an assumption, like that of Mary? Why celebrate the Assumption of Mary anyway, since this event is mentioned nowhere in the Bible (but it is, from not long after the writing of the last books of the New Testament, mentioned in writings that reflect the beliefs of the earliest Christians)?

These are all wonderful questions but, first of all, I think the difficulty we have in answering them points to the Assumption of Mary as mystery. Second, do all these questions and all of our imperfect ways, even the most beautiful ones, of depicting the Assumption of Mary, not miss a very important point about why we celebrate this Solemnity as Church?

This important point, I think, is that the Assumption of Mary is less about Mary, as important as she is as Mother of God and model of the Church and all, and more about God and about us. What do I mean by this? Mary’s Assumption is not so much a form of witness to Mary’s own power but to God’s power to work through Mary to make her the ideal mother of God’s own Son made human, Jesus Christ. Our readings today give this due praise to God. 1 Corinthians says that Jesus is the only way to the destruction of death, and so eternal life. Mary herself, as well as Elizabeth before her, also praise God, Mary through her Magnificat—“My soul magnifies the Lord”—and Elizabeth through her recognition that Mary is “the mother of my Lord”; of our Lord.

Mary, uniquely in history, has been raised to heaven body and soul by God immediately after her earthly life ended. But we, too, await not only an ascension to heaven of our souls when we die, but of our bodies, too, between now and the end of time. So we pray, especially when we pray the Apostles’ Creed, that we believe “in the resurrection of the body.” The gift Mary receives in being raised body and soul to heaven immediately is a gift we will receive, too, only in a more deferred way.

But Mary’s Assumption is nonetheless the great witness to the power of God over death itself, and to the promise of eternal life, body and soul, that awaits us and that we celebrate here and now.

Homily for Monday, 22 December 2014– Ferial

Monday of the 4th Week in Advent

Readings of the day: 1 Samuel 1:24-28; Responsorial Canticle: 1 Samuel 2:1, 4-5, 6-7, 8abcd; Luke 1:46-56

What does it mean to be “dedicated to the LORD”? Today we hear in our readings of two people, Samuel the son of Hannah and then the Blessed Virgin Mary in Luke’s Gospel, who are “dedicated to the LORD.”

Hannah leaves her son Samuel in the care of Eli. Samuel is now at Eli’s service, but more importantly, is at God’s service. Unlike Samuel who is “dedicated to” God by another person, Hannah, in our Gospel reading Mary once again dedicates herself to God. This time, Mary dedicates herself to God by a beautiful hymn, the Magnificat, which we members of religious orders, priests, and many laypeople recite every day at Evening Prayer: “My soul proclaims the greatness of the Lord; my spirit rejoices in God my savior…”

We, too, are dedicated to God. Through our baptism, most of us were dedicated to God’s service by our parents and godparents, unless we were baptized as older children or adults, in which case we professed our faith for ourselves. At our confirmation, we dedicated ourselves; chose to commit ourselves to God’s service as Christian disciples.

Have we ever, then, thought to make Hannah’s prayer in dedicating Samuel to God, or Mary’s prayer of dedication of herself to God our own prayer? Hannah says, as she leaves Samuel with Eli: “I am the woman who stood near you here, praying to the LORD… Now I, in turn, give him to the LORD.” And Mary prays, “My soul proclaims the greatness of the Lord; my spirit rejoices in God my savior.”

These are prayers of dedication to God, but also prayers of gratitude. How often do we pray in joyful gratitude for our having been placed at God’s service in whatever way; by whatever vocation we are called to serve God: “My soul proclaims the greatness of the Lord; my spirit rejoices in God my savior”?

How often do we pray in gratitude especially for God’s mercy in our lives, which is also an invitation to be merciful ourselves: God “has mercy on those who fear him in every generation… For he remembered his promise of mercy, the promise he made to our fathers, to Abraham and his children forever.” This may be a good prayer to pray when we make our examination of conscience (for many of us, this is daily), or when we have been absolved of sin through the sacrament of reconciliation.

Our Advent is a time of anticipation of Christ’s return in glory; a time of joy in these last few days before our Christmas celebration. May it also be a time of gratitude; of renewing our commitment to God’s service in whatever vocation to which we are called. May we offer the prayer of dedication that Hannah once did, standing in this house of God, “praying to the LORD.” This day and every day, may we offer Mary’s prayer of gratitude; make her prayer of dedication our own Magnificat: “My soul proclaims the greatness of the Lord; my spirit rejoices in God my savior.”

Homily for Friday, 21 November 2014– Memorial of the Presentation of the Blessed Virgin Mary

Friday of the 33rd Week in Ordinary Time

Readings of the day: Zechariah 2:14-17; Responsorial Canticle: Luke 1:46-47, 48-49, 50-51, 52-53, 54-55; Matthew 12:46-50

Does anybody here know of somebody who has arisen from poverty or social obscurity to become rich or famous? Do we not enjoy a good rags-to-riches story from time to time?

If we want to hear a good rags-to-riches story, the story of the Mother of God, the Blessed Virgin Mary, is not one of them. Mary probably came from very humble beginnings, raised by her parents Anne and Joachim, belonging to the peasant class. Beyond a few elites, the people of Israel at the time were poor and socially inconsequential. Mary’s presentation in the Temple of Jerusalem, which we remember today, was probably like most other presentations of children in the Temple.

In our Gospel reading today, even Jesus seems to minimize the importance of his own mother. Jesus addresses not Mary and his close relatives, but his disciples in our Gospel reading: “Whoever does the will of my heavenly Father is my brother, my sister, and my mother.”

So why do we celebrate today’s memorial of the Presentation of the Blessed Virgin Mary?  We could think of several answers to this question. We celebrate the Blessed Virgin Mary because she is the mother of our Savior, Jesus Christ. Mary is the Mother of God. Mary is first among Jesus’ disciples, present at his birth, during his life, at his death, his resurrection, ascension, and when the Holy Spirit descended upon the disciples at Pentecost.

But all of what makes Mary important she did not do on her own. God made this all possible for her. Mary’s own hymn, the Magnificat, which we pray today in our responsorial verse from Luke’s Gospel, points to this truth: “The Almighty has done great things for me, and holy is his Name.” Any importance we ascribe to Mary is really about God.

But all the reasons why Mary is so important to our faith are also about us. “Whoever does the will of my heavenly Father is my brother and sister and mother,” Jesus says. Mary is the model for us in doing “the will of [our] heavenly Father”; model for us of Church. She is first among Jesus’ disciples.

And so we celebrate the moment when Mary was presented by Anne and Joachim in the Temple, God’s holy place. She became God’s holy place in which, to borrow the words of our first reading from Zechariah, God made human first “stirred forth from his holy dwelling,” all because Mary said “yes” to God’s work within her. This is why today we celebrate her presentation in the Temple; holy presented to the source of holiness, hers and ours.

We also celebrate today the anniversary of the founding of the Basilian Fathers. I pray especially today for my brother Basilians. Let us pray for all of us here. We present ourselves here in this holy place, a holy people before God, the source of our holiness. With Mary as our model, may we say “yes” to God’s work in us, in whatever vocation we are called to; “yes” to God, who is why Mary is so important to our faith; why we celebrate this feast of her presentation.