The glory of God

Today’s readings: 2 Sam. 7, 1-5.8-11.16; Rom. 16, 25-27; Luke 1, 26-38.

The glory of God always shows itself in an empty space. It is humility that makes an empty space in which God may dwell and His glory may be seen. On this closest Sunday to Christmas, Mary becomes the central Advent figure, as she is transformed in a living sign of God’s presence.

As Timothy Radcliffe writes, she is a profound challenge to the modern image of the self we cultivate, which is solitary, self-absorbed, the hub around which everything gravitates. It is hard to talk about humility in a society which cultivates assertiveness and self-confidence.

But humility is not me despising myself. It is not some way of looking at yourself and seeing how worthless you are. That would be depressing, not elevating.

The history of Israel has developed between, on the one hand, Moses and Mt Sinai, representing the origins of its legal institutions, and on the other hand, David and Jerusalem, representing fulfillment, and to some extent, its coming home as a fully fledged people of God.

But things became distorted when David, settling down and resting “from all the enemies surrounding him”, wanted to build a house for the Lord to dwell in. Yahweh’s restless freedom is evoked in the reading from Samuel where he refuses a temple because it will limit divine freedom. There were endless efforts in ancient Israel to institutionalise Yahweh and religion.

This is also what happened with the Church over time after the persecutions were over and it was becoming the Church of the masses rather than the little communities of faith proving to be living signs of God’s presence in the midst of a pagan culture. This has continued to happen, changing radically the face of the Christian community and reducing belonging to it to a mere baptismal entry in the parish registries.

The Church was never meant to be part of the establishment. Whenever and wherever it did, it always ended up with the fever of building magnificent temples and places of worship more apt to render glory to man than to God. It took centuries to come to realise what St Paul writes today in the second reading, referring to “the revelation of a mystery kept secret for endless ages, but now so clear that it must be broadcast to pagans everywhere”.

It is, in fact, the institutionalisation of religion that is mostly in crisis today. Exactly what David wanted to do when he proposed to build a house for the Lord.

It is not for us to make God look glorious. His glory manifests itself mainly in the hearts of people, which is the best dwelling place for God. In time, God’s mystery can only be revealed to the heart where there is, in Paul’s words, “the obedience of faith”.

Mary in today’s gospel is not just a woman who gave birth to the Messiah. In the long history of humanity she represents and gives expression to that side of humanity that remains open to the mystery of God and serves as God’s throne. She is the humanity that loves and hopes; she is that part of humanity where love is acceptance, humble yet not passive.

“Let what you have said be done to me”, are great words of hope; a hope that surpasses all other forms of hope that gave shape to projects of humanity throughout the ages.

Human life is a journey, like a voyage on the sea of history, often dark and stormy. In his ‘Letter on Hope’ Pope Benedict writes that in the hymn composed in the 8th or 9th century the Church greets Mary as ‘Star of the Sea Ave Maris Stella.

She represents humility in boldness. She was the one who carried throughout her life the words of the angel at the time of the Annunciation: “Do not be afraid!’

Her son Jesus many times repeated those same words to his disciples: “Do not be afraid. Let not your hearts be troubled.” On the strength of the words she assented to, Mary became the mother of believers, a home for the Word to come and dwell among us.