Mary: An Advent Reflection
As our reflection on the Nativity scene this Advent season continues, our attention moves to Mary. While I prepared to write this reflection, I was overwhelmed with possibilities. So much has been said and written about the mother of Jesus, from her profound “yes,” to her courageous life as the mother of God.
As I prayed about this blog post, I was drawn to Mary in the upper room. Decades after she was in a stable bringing God into the world, she was now with his friends who were fearful and uncertain about what was to come. Jesus had died, rose from the dead, and left for the final time. It was a period of great confusion and fear.
Scripture (Acts 1:12-2:47) tells us that Mary was in the upper room with many of Jesus’ disciples in prayer, before the Holy Spirit came in the feast of Pentecost. Tradition tells us that Mary, being a strong mother, urged these confused friends to no longer be afraid, to no longer mourn the loss of their leader, but to do as he commanded- to love one another.
The upper room is believed to be the same room where the Last Supper occurred.
In prayer, the disciples had to be recalling their recent Passover meal and how Jesus washed their feet in one final lesson. We are the descendants of these friends and disciples.
Mary, we can imagine, was thinking of the baby she once felt moving in her womb. Now, despite her mourning, she was a maternal figure for these friends who were prepared to live and love as Jesus taught them.
Mary, our mother, urges us, now, to shine our divine light in every room we may find ourselves.
Big Picture
Mary also helps us keep our eyes on the big picture. She had to know that when her baby boy was born that he would one day suffer and die for his gospel of love.
Even in Jesus’ earliest of days, Mary was warned to protect him from King Herod who issued a royal decree to murder all male infants in Bethlehem and the surrounding area (Matthew 2:16-18). Eight days after his birth, Mary presented Jesus at the temple and Simeon confirmed who he was, while also predicting that “a sword will pierce (Mary’s) very soul (Luke 2:35).”
I wonder what it was like for Mary to see her son grow and prepare for his ministry, knowing how it would end. I wonder what she felt as she saw him preach and heal and how so many would still oppose him. I wonder what she thought as she saw him resurrected from the dead and how fear still filled the hearts of those who called him friend.
As Mary sat in that upper room, reflecting on her life and the role she played in God’s plan, she saw beyond her and our earthly days. We, too, must see beyond our limited days and years on this planet and consider that we will one day return home to God.
In fact, it is likely that 100 years from now, all we know, and love, will be together in paradise. We will be reunited with those who are already there, and we will wait for our future generations to join us.
It allows us, with this perspective, to prayerfully join Mary, both in the stable and in the upper room.
We must see these days with a rejuvenated purpose to love as Jesus taught us. Like those disciples who mourned the loss of their dearest friend, we walk together in love.
And they did, as we know that the 3rd century Christians continued this legacy of love. It was said of them, “See how they love one another,” but over the centuries, many of us lost our way. We were and are consumed by things of this world, not the next, and we find ourselves like those disciples in the upper room-fearful, mourning, and stuck in the moment.
Mary reminds us to trust in her son. Her life reflects the goodness of God, and even when we cannot understand, God is at work.
This Advent season, let us trust, love, and do as we were commanded, keeping our eyes on Christmas and beyond.
