Rejoice, Mary!
Monday, May 12, 2014
*Rogelio Zelada
With
much effort, old Zechariah had climbed the steep stairs of the temple. A
country priest, little known in Jerusalem, it had finally fallen on him to
offer incense in the afternoon sacrifice. He could not recall an occasion or an
honor similar to this. Given the many shifts and the huge numbers of those in
the priestly office, this was a great bit of luck. It was something that
happened just once in a lifetime for many, and never for others. Focused and
impressed by the majesty and the beauty of the place, he tries to search his
mind for the required words of the rite, but an unexpected voice prevents him:
“Do not be afraid, Zechariah.”
Luke the evangelist wanted to begin his story of the childhood of Jesus with
two heavenly experiences, described in parallel: the annunciation to Zechariah
in the middle of the solemn splendor of the Temple of Jerusalem, and that of a
humble maiden, hidden in the poorest Nazarene village. One story leads us to
the other, and both are framed with elegance and theological care.
The angel has not offered a salutation to Zechariah because, according to the custom of the times, the salutation had to be initiated by the priest, whose status was inferior to the heavenly messenger. God announced Elizabeth’s yearned fertility; Zechariah does not only think it is improbable, but also impossible given their advanced age. He has not taken into consideration that the entire history of his people is anchored on the promise of the God of Israel, who made Abraham the patriarch wait, against all human hope, until his fidelity blossomed in the promised son growing in the dry womb of Sarah. Zechariah was rendered mute, unable to speak, a terrible punishment for a man, as he lost the most important social characteristic of masculinity: his eloquence. From now on, others will have to speak for him, as is done for the women of Israel.
As in a modern cinematographic sequence, the next scene takes us to the humble cave in Nazareth where Mary lives. It’s a village with very few homes, most of them raised with adobe walls and thatched roofs; it’s basically an enclave inhabited by families from Judea who had come to Galilee looking for employment, which was abundantly available in the nearby city of Sepphoris, where Herod the Great is attempting to raise a beautiful capital for his new kingdom from the ancient ruins.
The situation is very different in Nazareth; this time it’s the angel Gabriel who initiates the salutation. The honor that this young woman has before God is higher than that of any other creature, including the heavenly ones. Luke presents us an astonishing dialogue for the reader of that time, not just because it is the angel who initiates the salutation, but because he is addressing a woman no less, who could never be greeted in Israel, and also because he does not use the traditional “Shalom,” but the form that was reserved for addressing the mother of a king, which we translate as “Hail.” This seems so strange to Mary that she asks in awe the meaning of such a greeting.
Contrary to Zechariah, who has not believed, Mary completely trusts the word of God that has arrived through the angel, even though she barely understands the scope of what has happened. She, who is not an expert in theology, as is Zechariah, is absolutely convinced that there is nothing impossible for God.
She firmly accepts the proposal of the angel, who has not given many explanations, and her reply means, “As you wish,” in the typical Mediterranean sense.
The virgin, now with child, leaves for the mountains of Judea to stay with her cousin during the last months of her elderly relative’s pregnancy and to verify, as she was expected to do, the sign that God had given to her. There she will hear the first beatitude that resounds throughout the entire Gospel of Luke: “Blessed are you who believed!”
The infancy narratives show Mary alternating between awe and interior meditation. In this way the Gospel writers present her as the perfect model of the believer, of someone who, without even understanding where God’s plans are headed, accepts them and meditates on them again and again, convinced that everything that comes from God is good and appropriate.In narrating the amazing adventure of the Magi searching for the King of the Jews, Matthew describes with emotion how, when entering the home, “they found the boy with his mother, Mary.” It is an authentic scene of royalty, because in the Biblical world, the queen was not the wife but the mother of the king. When the Magi from the east find and worship the King of Israel, they gaze at him resting in the bosom of his mother, the Queen.
