The Second Joyful Mystery: The Visitation
The Fruit of the Mystery: Ministry by allowing Elizabeth her joy
A year ago I wrote a post on the Magnificat. One of the parting points of the piece, and the "thesis" of the post, was the following:
Mary, the perfected recreation of who we were meant to be, blazed a trail for us to follow when she walked her path. If we are to take the Joyful Mysteries as an encapsulation for us of what our own vocational journey should look like, after this moment of super-abundant grace comes the next scene, the Visitation, where others recognize something extraordinary in us. When your life has just been changed and re-shaped by an unmerited gift, personal praise of this nature can be hard to stomach.
But Mary doesn't just redirect the praise. She allows Elizabeth her joy. This, more than any physical acts of service she did while she was there, was her primary act of service to her cousin.
Mary was not given her vocation for herself, but for the world. After the acceptance of the gift, she goes out. Out to the hill country of Judea, out on a long and arduous journey, out to minister. Our vocation, if it is from God, should not merely deepen our interior life; it broadens our heart outwards to include others, to allow us to embrace the world.
Sometimes when we embrace the world it responds coldly; it does not understand. Other times when we embrace the world it understands completely. It rejoices because we have given it hope. Elizabeth said to Mary:
The best way that Mary can help Elizabeth correct her perception of her pregnancy and understand that her vocation is a gift not to herself but to the world is to let Elizabeth be the first beneficiary of the manifold gifts that Mary's own vocation will give to the world -- to be the first of the children of Israel to feel hope at the coming of Christ ("Why is this granted me..."). Hope that He would make all things new and accomplish something beautiful in us.
That is the kind of witness to beauty that we with our vocations are called to give. This witness does not allow us to hide in humility, but sometimes it is far more humble to simply shine.
Elizabeth's greeting is Mary centric. It is all about her greeting, her voice, her womb, and her response to God. Mary does not condemn this, but she redirects it. She changes all of the you to He. It is not about what she has done for God, it is about what God has done for her, and for everyone else.In my last post, on the Annunciation, I focused on what exactly the Almighty did for Mary: namely, leveling the playing field for her from the start so she had the freedom to choose Him. This is a leveling He does vocationally for each of us; although (because less is asked) less is given to us than to Mary."...the Almighty has done great things for me, and holy is his Name."[...] while proclamation is more active, magnification is a passive thing. When a magnifying glass is placed in front of something else, it cannot help but to magnify it.
Mary, the perfected recreation of who we were meant to be, blazed a trail for us to follow when she walked her path. If we are to take the Joyful Mysteries as an encapsulation for us of what our own vocational journey should look like, after this moment of super-abundant grace comes the next scene, the Visitation, where others recognize something extraordinary in us. When your life has just been changed and re-shaped by an unmerited gift, personal praise of this nature can be hard to stomach.
But Mary doesn't just redirect the praise. She allows Elizabeth her joy. This, more than any physical acts of service she did while she was there, was her primary act of service to her cousin.
Mary was not given her vocation for herself, but for the world. After the acceptance of the gift, she goes out. Out to the hill country of Judea, out on a long and arduous journey, out to minister. Our vocation, if it is from God, should not merely deepen our interior life; it broadens our heart outwards to include others, to allow us to embrace the world.
Sometimes when we embrace the world it responds coldly; it does not understand. Other times when we embrace the world it understands completely. It rejoices because we have given it hope. Elizabeth said to Mary:
Blessed is she who believed that there would be a fulfillment of what was spoken to her by the Lord.Elizabeth was in a unique position to understand Mary since she herself was the beneficiary of a miraculous act. Yet Mary also came to help Elizabeth better understand her own vocation. Mary's arrival happens in a critical period in Elizabeth's life: after she was the recipient of a miracle but before her husband's lips were unsealed to explain to her the larger significance. Up until the Visitation, Elizabeth saw the gift of her unexpected pregnancy as something given to her by the Lord "to take away my reproach among men." (Luke 1:25) Given that she saw John the Baptist as a personal gift to herself, it would not be surprising for Elizabeth to initially see Mary's pregnancy in the same way. After all, in those times, fertility was tightly linked in social and religious perception to divine favor. Yet she said "Blessed are you among women" as a direct out-flow of the inspiration of the Holy Spirit. She saw Mary and her cooperation with the Divine Will as good in and of themselves because, by the very act of her yes, even before accomplishing anything wonderful in the world, Mary opened Elizabeth's eyes to the realm of what was possible with God's grace.
The best way that Mary can help Elizabeth correct her perception of her pregnancy and understand that her vocation is a gift not to herself but to the world is to let Elizabeth be the first beneficiary of the manifold gifts that Mary's own vocation will give to the world -- to be the first of the children of Israel to feel hope at the coming of Christ ("Why is this granted me..."). Hope that He would make all things new and accomplish something beautiful in us.
That is the kind of witness to beauty that we with our vocations are called to give. This witness does not allow us to hide in humility, but sometimes it is far more humble to simply shine.
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