The liturgy of this Fourth Sunday of Advent focuses on the figure of Mary, the Virgin Mother, expecting the birth of Jesus, the Saviour of the world. Let us fix our gaze upon her, a model of faith and of charity; and we can ask ourselves: what were her thoughts in the months while she was expecting? The answer comes precisely from today’s Gospel passage, the narrative of Mary’s visit to her elderly relative Elizabeth (cf. Lk 1:39-45). The Angel Gabriel had revealed that Elizabeth was expecting a son and was already in her sixth month (cf. Lk 1:26, 36). So the Virgin, who had just conceived Jesus by the power of God, set out with haste for Nazareth, in Galilee, to reach the mountains of Judea, and visit her cousin.

The Gospel states: “she entered the house of Zechariah and greeted Elizabeth” (v. 40). Surely she congratulated her on her maternity, as in turn Elizabeth congratulated Mary, saying: “Blessed are you among women, and blessed is the fruit of your womb! And why is this granted me, that the mother of my Lord should come to me?” (vv. 42-43). And she immediately lauds Mary’s faith: “And blessed is she who believed that there would be a fulfilment of what was spoken to her from the Lord” (v. 45). The contrast is obvious between Mary, who had faith, and Zechariah, Elizabeth’s husband, who doubted, and did not believe the angel’s promise and therefore is left dumb until John’s birth. It is a contrast.

This episode helps us to interpret the mystery of man’s encounter with God in a very special light. An encounter that is not characterized by astonishing miracles, but rather, is characterized by faith and charity. Indeed, Mary is blessed because she believed: the encounter with God is the fruit of faith. Zechariah, however, who doubted and did not believe, was left deaf and dumb. To grow in faith during the long silence: without faith one remains inevitably deaf to the consoling voice of God; and incapable of speaking words of consolation and hope to our brothers and sisters. We see it every day: when people who have no faith, or who have very little faith, have to approach a person who is suffering, they speak words suited to the occasion, but they do not manage to touch the heart because they have no strength. They have no strength because they have no faith, and if they have no faith they do not find the words that can touch others’ hearts. Faith, in its turn, is nourished by charity. The Evangelist recounts that “Mary arose and went with haste” (v. 39) to Elizabeth: with haste, not with distress, not anxiously, but with haste, in peace. “She arose”: a gesture full of concern. She could have stayed at home to prepare for the birth of her son, but instead she takes care of others before herself, showing through her deeds that she is already a disciple of that Lord whom she carries in her womb. The event of Jesus’ birth began in this way, with a simple gesture of charity; after all, authentic charity is always the fruit of God’s love.

The Gospel passage about Mary’s visit to Elizabeth, which we heard at Mass today, prepares us to experience Christmas properly, by communicating to us the dynamism of faith and charity. This dynamism is the work of the Holy Spirit: the Spirit of Love who made Mary’s virginal womb fruitful and who spurred her to hasten to the service of her elderly relative. A dynamism full of joy, as seen in the encounter between the two mothers, which is entirely a hymn of joyful exultation in the Lord, who does great things with the little ones who trust in him.

May the Virgin Mary obtain for us the grace to experience an ‘extroverted’ Christmas, but not a scattered one: extroverted. May our ‘I’ not be at the centre, but rather the ‘You’ of Jesus and the ‘you’ of brothers and sisters, especially of those who need a hand. Then we will leave room for the Love that, even today, seeks to become flesh and to come to dwell in our midst.

[Pope Francis, Angelus 23 December 2018]

From religion to Faith, from barren to Beloved one

(Lk 1:26-38)

The solemnity of the moment that restores the soul to the Mystery invites a passage wave upon wave: from the Temple religion to domestic and personal Faith.

From outside to inside ourselves. From patterns to innate prophecy. Unique Promise, more subtle condition.

Faith-surrender - that of Mother - which shows the freedom and beauty of the new orientations, in the progress of the inner guiding images.

Alliance no longer for what is already known.

His Pact is all in the Opening to the Inexplicable that lives inside us. 

Intimate Eternal, which can now concretize the hope and the journey of the peoples. A turning point of authenticity, growing.

If the heart’s virgins do not impose demands, the Call by Name (from our own fibers) opens the incapable and sterile breath.

Ad coeli Reginam: silent Echo... this invisible core-Vocation is startling. And with spontaneous virtue introduces the spirit into the fruitful synergy of God himself.

Spousal Trust that re-annotate the threads of the history of salvation: and is opposed to the broad road of alliances with people "who matter".

In the intertwining between fruitfuling Initiative and welcome into the bosom, the Handmaiden is icon of the expectation and the way of each one - where what remains decisive is not the usual, predictable desire.

Vibrant Appeal that is prolonged through history, in a sort of unfolded and continuous Incarnation, thanks to the collaboration of “distant”, unstable and insignificant servants, like Mary.

Ours too, despite us still being filled of normal expectations.

To internalize and live the message:

Which Words open us to life in the Spirit and question the foreseen path?

What is our still intermediate zone, without Encounter?

How to make the invisible Seed bloom

The Tao Tê Ching (Lxi) says: «The great kingdom which held itself below is the confluence of the world; is the female of the world. The female always overcomes the male with the quiet, since she is modestly submissive. For this reason, the great kingdom which places below the small kingdom attracts the small kingdom; the small kingdom that is below the great kingdom attracts the great kingdom: one lowers to attract, the other attracts because below. […] In order for each one to obtain what he craves, it’s better for the great to keep down».

[Weekday liturgy of December 20]

He was conceived by the Holy Spirit

Dear Brothers and Sisters,

Once again the Nativity of the Lord illuminates the gloom that often envelops our world and our hearts and with its light brings hope and joy. Where does this light come from? From the Bethlehem Grotto where the shepherds found “Mary and Joseph, and the babe, lying in a manger” (Lk 2:16). Another, deeper question arises before this Holy Family: how can that tiny, frail Child have brought into the world a newness so radical that it changed the course of history? Is there not perhaps something mysterious about his origins which goes beyond that grotto?

The question of Jesus’ origins recurs over and over again. It is the same question that the Procurator Pontius Pilate asked during the trial: “where are you from?” (Jn 19:9). Yet his origins were quite clear. In John’s Gospel when the Lord says: “I am the bread which came down from heaven”, the Jews reacted, murmuring: “is not this Jesus, the son of Joseph, whose father and mother we know? How does he now say, ‘I have come down from heaven’?” (Jn 6:41, 42).

Moreover, a little later the citizens of Jerusalem strongly opposed Jesus’ messianic claim, asserting that “where this man comes from” was well known; and that “when the Christ appears, no one will know where he comes from” (Jn 7:27). Jesus himself points out how inadequate their claim to know his origins is and by so doing he already offers a clue to knowing where he came from: “I have not come of my own accord; he who sent me is true, and him you do not know” (Jn 7:28). Jesus was of course a native of Nazareth, he was born in Bethlehem; but what is known of his true origins?

In the four Gospels, the answer is clear as to where Jesus “comes from”. His true origins are in the Father, God; he comes totally from him [God], but in a different way from that of any of God’s prophets or messengers who preceded him. This origin in the mystery of God, “whom no one knows” is already contained in the infancy narratives in the Gospels of Matthew and Luke that we are reading during this Christmastide. The Angel Gabriel proclaimed: “The Holy Spirit will come upon you, and the power of the Most High will overshadow you; therefore the child to be born will be called holy, the Son of God” (Lk 1:35).

We repeat these words every time we recite the Creed, the Profession of Faith: “Et incarnatus est de Spiritu Sancto, ex Maria Virgine”, “and by the Holy Spirit was incarnate of the Virgin Mary”. At this sentence we kneel, for the veil that concealed God is lifted, as it were, and his unfathomable and inaccessible mystery touches us: God becomes the Emmanuel, “God-with-us”. When we hear the Masses written by the great composers of sacred music — I am thinking, for example, of Mozart’s Coronation Mass — we immediately notice how they pause on this phrase in a special way, as if they were trying to express in the universal language of music what words cannot convey: the great mystery of God who took flesh, who was made man.

If we consider carefully the words: “by the Holy Spirit [he] was incarnate of the Virgin Mary”, we notice that they include four active subjects. The Holy Spirit and Mary are mentioned explicitly, but “he”, namely, the Son, who took flesh in the Virgin’s womb, is implicit. In the Profession of Faith, the Creed, Jesus is described with several epithets: “Lord... Christ, Only-Begotten Son of God... God from God, Light from Light, true God from true God... consubstantial with the Father” (Niceno-Constantinopolitan Creed). We can therefore see that “he” refers to another person, the Father. Consequently the first subject of this sentence is the Father who, with the Son and the Holy Spirit, is the one God.

This affirmation of the Creed does not concern God’s eternal being but, rather, speaks to us of an action in which the three divine Persons take part and which is brought about “ex Maria Virgine”. Without Mary God’s entry into the history of humanity would not have achieved its purpose, and what is central to our Profession of Faith would not have taken place: God is a “God-with-us”. Thus Mary belongs irrevocably to our faith in God who acts, who enters history. She makes her whole person available, she “agrees” to become God’s dwelling place.

Sometimes, on our journey and in our life of faith, we can sense our poverty, our inadequacy in the face of the witness we must offer to the world. However God chose, precisely, a humble woman, in an unknown village, in one of the most distant provinces of the great Roman Empire. We must always trust in God, even in the face of the most gruelling difficulties, renewing our faith in his presence and action in our history, just as in Mary’s. Nothing is impossible to God! With him our existence always journeys on safe ground and is open to a future of firm hope.

In professing in the Creed: “by the Holy Spirit was incarnate of the Virgin Mary”, we affirm that the Holy Spirit, as the power of the Most High God, mysteriously brought about in the Virgin Mary the conception of the Son of God. The Evangelist Luke recorded the Archangel Gabriel’s words: “The Holy Spirit will come upon you, and the power of the Most High will overshadow you” (1:35).

Two references are obvious: the first is to the moment of the Creation. At the beginning of the Book of Genesis we read that “the Spirit of God was moving over the face of the waters” (1:2); this is the Creator Spirit who gave life to all things and to the human being. What is brought about in Mary, through the action of this same divine Spirit, is a new creation: God, who called forth being from nothing, by the Incarnation gives life to a new beginning of humanity. The Fathers of the Church sometimes speak of Christ as the new Adam in order to emphasize that the new creation began with the birth of the Son of God in the Virgin Mary’s womb. This makes us think about how faith also brings us a newness so strong that it produces a second birth. Indeed, at the beginning of our life as Christians there is Baptism, which causes us to be reborn as children of God and makes us share in the filial relationship that Jesus has with the Father. And I would like to point out that Baptism is received, we “are baptized” — it is passive — because no one can become a son of God on his own. It is a gift that is freely given. St Paul recalls this adoptive sonship of Christians in a central passage of his Letter to the Romans, where he writes: “all who are led by the Spirit of God are sons of God. For you did not receive the spirit of slavery to fall back into fear, but you have received the spirit of sonship. When we cry, ‘Abba! Father!’ it is the Spirit himself bearing witness with our spirit that we are children of God” (Rom 8:14-16), not slaves. Only if we open ourselves to God’s action, like Mary, only if we entrust our life to the Lord as to a friend whom we totally trust, will everything change, will our whole life acquire a new meaning, a new aspect: that of children with a father who loves us and never deserts us.

We have spoken of two elements: the first was the Spirit moving on the surface of the waters, the Creator Spirit: there is another element in the words of the Annunciation. The Angel said to Mary: “The power of the Most High will overshadow you”. This is an re-evocation of the holy cloud that, during the Exodus, halted over the tent of meeting, over the Ark of the Covenant that the People of Israel were carrying with them and that indicated God’s presence (cf. Ex 40:34-38).

Mary, therefore, is the new holy tent, the new ark of the covenant: with her “yes” to the Archangel’s words, God received a dwelling place in this world, the One whom the universe cannot contain took up his abode in a Virgin’s womb.

Let us therefore return to the initial question, the one about Jesus’ origins that is summed up by Pilate’s question: “where are you from?”. What Jesus’ true origins are is clear from our reflections, from the very beginning of the  Gospels: he is the Only-Begotten Son of the Father, he comes from God. We have before us the great and overwhelming mystery which we are celebrating in this Christmas season. The Son of God, through the work of the Holy Spirit, was incarnate in the womb of the Virgin Mary. This is an announcement that rings out ever new and in itself brings hope and joy to our hearts because, every time, it gives us the certainty that even though we often feel weak, poor and incapable in the face of the difficulties and evil in the world, God’s power is always active and works miracles through weakness itself. His grace is our strength (cf. 2 Cor 12:9-10). Many thanks.

[Pope Benedict, General Audience 2 January 2013].

1. I have longed to come back to the town of Jesus, to feel once again, in contact with this place, the presence of the woman of whom Saint Augustine wrote: “He chose the mother he had created; he created the mother he had chosen” (Sermo 69, 3, 4). Here it is especially easy to understand why all generations call Mary blessed (cf. Lk 2:48).

I warmly greet Your Beatitude Patriarch Michel Sabbah, and thank you for your kind words of presentation. With Archbishop Boutros Mouallem and all of you – Bishops, priests, religious women and men, and members of the laity – I rejoice in the grace of this solemn celebration. I am happy to have this opportunity to greet the Franciscan Minister General, Father Giacomo Bini, who welcomed me on my arrival, and to express to the Custos, Father Giovanni Battistelli, and the Friars of the Custody the admiration of the whole Church for the devotion with which you carry out your unique vocation. With gratitude I pay tribute to your faithfulness to the charge given to you by Saint Francis himself and confirmed by the Popes down the centuries.

2. We are gathered to celebrate the great mystery accomplished here two thousand years ago. The Evangelist Luke situates the event clearly in time and place: “In the sixth month, the angel Gabriel was sent by God to a town in Galilee called Nazareth, to a virgin betrothed to a man named Joseph. . . The virgin’s name was Mary” (1:26-27). But in order to understand what took place in Nazareth two thousand years ago, we must return to the Reading from the Letter to the Hebrews. That text enables us, as it were, to listen to a conversation between the Father and the Son concerning God’s purpose from all eternity. “You who wanted no sacrifice or oblation prepared a body for me. You took no pleasure in holocausts or sacrifices for sin. Then I said. . . ?God, here I am! I am coming to obey your will’” (10:5-7). The Letter to the Hebrews is telling us that, in obedience to the Father’s will, the Eternal Word comes among us to offer the sacrifice which surpasses all the sacrifices offered under the former Covenant. His is the eternal and perfect sacrifice which redeems the world.

The divine plan is gradually revealed in the Old Testament, particularly in the words of the Prophet Isaiah which we have just heard: “The Lord himself will give you a sign. It is this: the virgin is with child and will soon give birth to a child whom she will call Emmanuel” (7:14). Emmanuel - God with us. In these words, the unique event that was to take place in Nazareth in the fullness of time is foretold, and it is this event that we are celebrating here with intense joy and happiness.

3. Our Jubilee Pilgrimage has been a journey in spirit, which began in the footsteps of Abraham, “our father in faith” (Roman Canon; cf. Rom 4:11-12). That journey has brought us today to Nazareth, where we meet Mary, the truest daughter of Abraham. It is Mary above all others who can teach us what it means to live the faith of “our father”. In many ways, Mary is clearly different from Abraham; but in deeper ways “the friend of God” (cf. Is 41:8) and the young woman of Nazareth are very alike.

Both receive a wonderful promise from God. Abraham was to be the father of a son, from whom there would come a great nation. Mary is to be the Mother of a Son who would be the Messiah, the Anointed One. “Listen!”, Gabriel says, “ You are to conceive and bear a son. . . The Lord God will give him the throne of his ancestor David. . . and his reign will have no end” (Lk 1:31-33).

For both Abraham and Mary, the divine promise comes as something completely unexpected. God disrupts the daily course of their lives, overturning its settled rhythms and conventional expectations. For both Abraham and Mary, the promise seems impossible. Abraham’s wife Sarah was barren, and Mary is not yet married: “How can this come about”, she asks, “since I am a virgin?” (Lk 1:34).

4. Like Abraham, Mary is asked to say yes to something that has never happened before. Sarah is the first in the line of barren wives in the Bible who conceive by God’s power, just as Elizabeth will be the last. Gabriel speaks of Elizabeth to reassure Mary: “Know this too: your kinswoman Elizabeth has, in her old age, herself conceived a son” (Lk 1:36).

Like Abraham, Mary must walk through darkness, in which she must simply trust the One who called her. Yet even her question, “How can this come about?”, suggests that Mary is ready to say yes, despite her fears and uncertainties. Mary asks not whether the promise is possible, but only how it will be fulfilled. It comes as no surprise, therefore, when finally she utters her fiat: “I am the handmaid of the Lord. Let what you have said be done to me” (Lk 1:38). With these words, Mary shows herself the true daughter of Abraham, and she becomes the Mother of Christ and Mother of all believers.

5. In order to penetrate further into the mystery, let us look back to the moment of Abraham’s journey when he received the promise. It was when he welcomed to his home three mysterious guests (cf. Gen 18:1-15), and offered them the adoration due to God: tres vidit et unum adoravit. That mysterious encounter foreshadows the Annunciation, when Mary is powerfully drawn into communion with the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit. Through the fiat that Mary uttered in Nazareth, the Incarnation became the wondrous fulfilment of Abraham’s encounter with God. So, following in the footsteps of Abraham, we have come to Nazareth to sing the praises of the woman “through whom the light rose over the earth” (Hymn Ave Regina Caelorum).

6. But we have also come to plead with her. What do we, pilgrims on our way into the Third Christian Millennium, ask of the Mother of God? Here in the town which Pope Paul VI, when he visited Nazareth, called “the school of the Gospel”, where “we learn to look at and to listen to, to ponder and to penetrate the deep and mysterious meaning of the very simple, very humble and very beautiful appearing of the Son of God” (Address in Nazareth, 5 January 1964), I pray, first, for a great renewal of faith in all the children of the Church. A deep renewal of faith: not just as a general attitude of life, but as a conscious and courageous profession of the Creed: “Et incarnatus est de Spiritu Sancto ex Maria Virgine, et homo factus est.”

In Nazareth, where Jesus “grew in wisdom and age and grace before God and men” (Lk 2:52), I ask the Holy Family to inspire all Christians to defend the family against so many present-day threats to its nature, its stability and its mission. To the Holy Family I entrust the efforts of Christians and of all people of good will to defend life and to promote respect for the dignity of every human being.

To Mary, the Theotókos, the great Mother of God, I consecrate the families of the Holy Land, the families of the world.

In Nazareth where Jesus began his public ministry, I ask Mary to help the Church everywhere to preach the “good news” to the poor, as he did (cf. Lk 4:18). In this “year of the Lord’s favour”, I ask her to teach us the way of humble and joyful obedience to the Gospel in the service of our brothers and sisters, without preferences and without prejudices.

“O Mother of the Word Incarnate, despise not my petitions, but in your mercy hear and answer me. Amen”

[Pope John Paul II, homily in Nazareth, 25 March 2000].

The bond between the Annunciation and the “Gospel of Life” is close and profound, as Saint John Paul emphasized in his Encyclical Letter. Today we find ourselves reviving this teaching within the context of a pandemic that threatens human life and the world economy. It is a situation that makes the words with which the Encyclical begins ever more demanding. Here they are: “The Gospel of life is at the heart of Jesus’ message. Lovingly received day after day by the Church, it is to be preached with dauntless fidelity as ‘good news’ to the people of every age and culture” (n. 1).

As with every proclamation of the Gospel, this too should firstly be witnessed. And I think with gratitude of the silent witness of many people who, in various ways, are doing everything they can in serving the sick, the elderly and those who are alone and most destitute. They put into practice the Gospel of Life, like Mary who, having accepted the Angel’s announcement, went to help her cousin Elizabeth who was in need.

Indeed, the life that we are called to promote and defend is not an abstract concept, but rather it is always manifested in a person in flesh and blood: a baby who has just been conceived, a marginalized poor person, a sick person who is disheartened or in a terminal ill state, one who has lost their job or cannot find one, a rejected or marginalized migrant.... Life manifests itself tangibly in people.

Each human being is called by God to enjoy the fullness of life; and, is entrusted to the maternal care of the Church, every threat to human dignity and life cannot but have an effect on her heart, on her maternal ‘womb’. To defend life is not an ideology for the Church. It is a reality; a human reality which involves all Christians, precisely because they are Christian and because they are human.

Unfortunately, attacks against people’s dignity and life still continue in our epoch, which is the age of universal human rights. Indeed, we are facing new threats and new forms of slavery, and laws do not always protect the weakest and most vulnerable human lives.

The message of the Encyclical Evangelium Vitae is thus more current than ever. Aside from the emergencies like the one we are experiencing now, it is a case of taking action on the cultural and educational level in order to transmit to future generations, the attitude of solidarity, care and welcome, in the full knowledge that the culture of life is not the exclusive heritage of Christians, but rather belongs to all those who, working to build fraternal relationships, recognize the value of each person, even when they are fragile and suffering.

Dear brothers and sisters, every human life, unique and unrepeatable, has value in and of itself; it is of inestimable value. This must always be proclaimed anew with the courage of the Word and the courage of actions. It calls us to solidarity and fraternal love for the great human family and for each of its members.

Thus, with Saint John Paul II, who wrote this Encyclical Letter, I reaffirm with renewed conviction the appeal he addressed to everyone 25 years ago: “respect, protect, love and serve life, every human life! Only in this direction will you find justice, development, true freedom, peace and happiness!” (Encyclical Letter, Evangelium Vitae, n. 5).

[Pope Francis, General Audience 25 March 2020].

Parent’s parent, for a different events’ reading

(Lk 1:5-25)

Lk places the Angel Gabriel’s visit to Zechariah next to the Annunciation to Mary (vv.26ss), in order to help his communities perceive the differences between religious order and life of Faith.

Even today, the comparison allows the leap between First and Second Covenants to be read in watermark.

In ancient religion it’s taken for granted that the place of encounter and dialogue with God is as planned: an inviolable and venerating enclosure, scented with incense - in the echo of invocations and songs with a fixed formula.

Here without exceptional cues, Zechariah’s belief [«zachàr-Ja»: the Lord of Israel ‘remembers’] doesn’t become personal, but repetitive, motionless.

By dint of commemorating and waiting, the priest of God and of the people no longer expects for anything decisive.

Engaged in the rite mechanism, he is not «blessed» (v.45) but unhappy; ‘mute’ because he no longer has anything to say to those waiting outside the temple.

No real blessing to pass on to people (vv.21-22).

So partly Elizabeth, who is hiding (v.24), while the Virgin - without asking permission - makes Exodus from her environment and rushes to serve her (vv.39ss).

And to trigger a more just and communal life, of the «well-disposed people» (v.17c) - here is a first shot: the mission of John, a figure of the expected return of the prophet Elijah (v.17a). Witness called to recover the hopes of the people and their torn social fabric.

Finally, this "reconstruction" will have an unforeseen outcome, far from prejudices: no longer the normal continuity of an obvious generational pact (Mal 3:23-24) but the definitive return of the heart of the fathers to the sons (v.17b)!

The meaning of the name ‘John’ [Yhwh is Merciful, He manifested his Benevolence, He made Grace] does not allude to some act of compassionate paternalism on the divine side - but to a precise cut from the lineage and from the ancient expectations or costumances, now an end in themselves.

In the Bible the term Mercy describes the Eternal’s different attention and fruitful action in favor of anyone in need - in desperate situations. Intervention necessary for a different genesis: epochal, which makes incredible life and reckless mission sprout, not according to predictions - not even by repeating intentions.

The Name that deviates from tradition is parable of God’s faithful testimony: from now on we must not only "remember" the still immobilized prophecies, without seeing their unpredictable implementation.

While assimilating the spiritual riches of the people, discontinuity marks the beginning of a completely new age.

It’s the transition to ‘personal’ fulfilment, and to a Kingdom that says Yes to everything it faces: that no longer decries the life of each one, of things, of the world.

The different reading of events and of inspirations allows us to become now fruitful - even fathers and mothers of our parents and ancestors.

[Weekday Liturgy, December 19]

Parent of parents, for a different reading of events

(Lk 1:5-25)

Luke places the visit of the angel Gabriel to Zechariah next to the Annunciation to Mary (vv.26ff), in order to help his communities perceive the differences between the religious set-up and the life of Faith.

Even today, the comparison allows the leap between the First and Second Covenant to be read in the watermark.

In ancient religion, it is taken for granted that the place of encounter and dialogue with God is as expected: an inviolable and venerable enclosure, perfumed with incense - in the echo of invocations and chants with a fixed formula.

Non-decisive ground, however: because it is distinct from ordinary life - from summary existence, mixed with unsterilised country situations (even with free-roaming domestic chickens).

In fact, the strong and well-reciprocated call of Faith will have its culmination in a common and inconvenient setting, far from both capable 'instruments' and intangible, secluded, eminent places.

The Word-event descends on even despised territory. Not in the heart of a person acclaimed, or jammed with prejudice - who only knows how to retrace the steps of others and fails to emancipate).

The Call comes precisely to rest on a very young 'unsuitable' woman, a woman of no social or sacred importance, who nevertheless welcomes the Newness of the Spirit. And by shifting her gaze, she overcomes insurmountable difficulties.

Without exceptional insights, Zechariah's believing [zachàr-Ja: the Lord of Israel "remembers"] does not become personal, but repetitive, immobile.

Thus, by dint of commemorating and waiting, the priest of God and of the people no longer waits for anything.

In religions, the mediator between heaven and earth is the elder with the great reminiscences; the one who makes devout remembrance - all right - yet as in a museum: he almost embalms temporal decay.

A role his, still refractory to the horizons of creative Action.

The consecrated remains subject to relations of oppression. He remains, and evaluates based on categories of possibility - only within reach.

The titular of the cult is in fact part of a class that likes to frequent the places that count, reluctant to a Spirit that insists and calls by name; that throws life into the air, even of deputed places and institutions themselves, making inroads and inflaming consciences, in order to move situations.

Here instead is the Poor Woman, inconspicuous but animated by Faith (vv.26-45).

In that culture, every woman was not a 'legal person', rather a non-person, who had to ask permission about everything.

Disengaged from the recognised circles of mass religiosity, she welcomes the Call, without the permission of people who matter - like the early evangelising communities depicted in the watermark.

The opposite of Zechariah, that is, of recognised authority - inside and outside the House (Israel), inside and outside the Sanctuary.

Officiality remains here incapable of communicating anything: the minister engaged in the mechanical passerelle of the rite is not "blessed" (v.45) but unhappy; mute, because he has nothing more to say to those waiting outside the temple.

Nothing vital and no real blessing to pass on to the people (vv.21-22); nothing with which to fill the existence of his neighbour.

So in part Elizabeth, who hides (v.24), while the Virgin - once again, without asking permission from any constituted paladin - exodus from her surroundings and rushes to serve her (vv.39ff).

And in order to trigger a less entangled or sacred life - more just, ideal and communitarian, of the "well-disposed people" (v.17c) - here is a first shot: the mission of John, a figure of the awaited return of the prophet Elijah (v.17a). A witness called to recover the hopes of the people and its torn social fabric.

Finally, this 'reconstruction' will have an unforeseen outcome, far from prejudice: no longer the normal continuity of an obvious generational pact (Mal 3:23-24) but the definitive return of the heart of the fathers towards the children (v.17b)!

The meaning of the name John [Yhwh is Merciful, He has manifested His Benevolence, He has done Grace] does not allude to some act of compassionate paternalism on the part of God - but to a definite distinction from the lineage and ancient expectations or customs, now an end in themselves.

In the Bible, the term mercy describes the Eternal's diverse attention and fruitful action on behalf of anyone in need - in desperate situations. Intervention necessary for a different genesis: epochal, sprouting incredible life and reckless mission, not according to predictions - not even following intentions.

The Name that deviates from tradition is a parable of God's faithful witness: from now on, one must not just 'remember' prophecies still immobilised, without seeing their unforeseeable fulfilment.

While assimilating the spiritual riches of the people, the discontinuity marks the beginning of an entirely new age. 

It is the transition to personal fulfilment, and to a 'realm' that says 'yes' to everything: that no longer diminishes people's lives.

The different reading of events and inspirations allows one to become fruitful now - even the fathers and mothers of one's parents and ancestors.

To internalise and live the message:

How has your different reading of events and personal inspirations enabled you to become fruitful - even parents of your parents?

John was the divine gift for which his parents Zechariah and Elizabeth had been praying for so many years (cf. Lk 1:13); a great gift, humanly impossible to hope for, because they were both advanced in years and Elizabeth was barren (cf. Lk 1:7); yet nothing is impossible to God (cf. Lk 1:36). The announcement of this birth happened precisely in the place of prayer, in the temple of Jerusalem, indeed it happened when Zechariah had the great privilege of entering the holiest place in the temple to offer incense to the Lord (cf. Lk 1:8-20). John the Baptist’s birth was also marked by prayer: the Benedictus, the hymn of joy, praise and thanksgiving which Zechariah raises to the Lord and which we recite every morning in Lauds, exalts God’s action in history and prophetically indicates the mission of their son John: to go before the Son of God made flesh to prepare his ways (cf. Lk 1:67-79).

The entire existence of the Forerunner of Jesus was nourished by his relationship with God, particularly the period he spent in desert regions (cf. Lk 1:80). The desert regions are places of temptation but also where man acquires a sense of his own poverty because once deprived of material support and security, he understands that the only steadfast reference point is God himself. John the Baptist, however, is not only a man of prayer, in permanent contact with God, but also a guide in this relationship. The Evangelist Luke, recalling the prayer that Jesus taught his disciples, the Our Father, notes that the request was formulated by the disciples in these words: “Lord, teach us to pray, just as John taught his own disciples” (cf. Lk 11:1).

Dear brothers and sisters, celebrating the martyrdom of St John the Baptist reminds us too, Christians of this time, that with love for Christ, for his words and for the Truth, we cannot stoop to compromises. The Truth is Truth; there are no compromises. Christian life demands, so to speak, the “martyrdom” of daily fidelity to the Gospel, the courage, that is, to let Christ grow within us and let him be the One who guides our thought and our actions. However, this can happen in our life only if we have a solid relationship with God. Prayer is not time wasted, it does not take away time from our activities, even apostolic activities, but exactly the opposite is true: only if we are able to have a faithful, constant and trusting life of prayer will God himself give us the ability and strength to live happily and serenely, to surmount difficulties and to witness courageously to him. St John the Baptist, intercede for us, that we may be ever able to preserve the primacy of God in our life. Thank you.

[Pope Benedict, General Audience 29 August 2012].

2. The context in which the two annunciations take place also contributes to enhancing the excellence of Mary's faith. In Luke's account we grasp the most favourable situation of Zechariah and the inadequacy of his response. He receives the annunciation of the angel in the temple of Jerusalem, at the altar before the "Holy of Holies" (cf. Ex 30:6-8 ); the angel addresses him while he is offering incense, thus during the fulfilment of his priestly function, at a salient moment in his life; the divine decision is communicated to him during a vision. These particular circumstances favour an easier understanding of the divine authenticity of the message and are a reason for encouragement to accept it promptly.

The announcement to Mary, on the other hand, takes place in a simpler and more everyday context, without the external elements of sacredness that accompany the one made to Zechariah. Luke does not indicate the precise place where the Annunciation of the Lord's birth takes place: he only reports that Mary was in Nazareth, an unimportant village that does not appear predestined for the event. Moreover, the evangelist does not attribute singular importance to the moment when the angel makes himself present, not specifying the historical circumstances. In the contact with the heavenly messenger, the focus is on the content of his words, which demand from Mary an intense listening and a pure faith.

This last consideration allows us to appreciate the greatness of faith in Mary, especially when compared to the tendency to insistently demand, yesterday as today, sensitive signs in order to believe. The Virgin's assent to the divine Will is motivated, on the other hand, solely by her love for God.

3. Mary is proposed to adhere to a much higher truth than that announced to Zechariah. Zechariah is invited to believe in a marvellous birth that will take place within a sterile marriage union that God wants to make fruitful: a divine intervention similar to those from which some women of the Old Testament had benefited: Sarah ( Gen 17, 15-21 ; 18,10-14 ), Rachel ( Gen 30, 22 ), Samson's mother ( Jdc 13, 1-7 ), Anne, mother of Samuel ( 1Sam 1, 11-20 ).

[Pope John Paul II, General Audience 3 July 1996].

These elderly parents had dreamt of that day and even prepared for it, but they no longer expected it: they felt excluded, humiliated, disappointed: they had no children. Faced with the announcement of the birth of a son, Zechariah had remained incredulous, because the natural laws did not allow it: they were old, they were elderly; consequently the Lord rendered him mute throughout the entire gestation period.

It is a sign. But God does not depend on our logic and our limited human capacities. We must learn to trust and be silent before the mystery of God, and to contemplate in humility and silence his work, which is revealed in history and which so often exceeds our imagination.

[Pope Francis, commentary of 24 June 2018:

https://www.lalucedimaria.it/vangelo-oggi-luca-1-5-17/]

Here is an empty cradle, we can look at it. It can be a symbol of hope because the Child will come, it can be a museum object, empty all our lives. Our heart is a cradle. What is my heart like? Is it empty, always empty, but is it open to continually receive life and give life? To receive and be fruitful? Or is it a heart preserved like a museum object that has never been opened to life and to give life?

[Pope Francis, commentary of 19 December 2017:

https://www.lalucedimaria.it/vangelo-oggi-luca-15-25-audio-commento/]