The Annunciation: The Feast of the Incarnation

Many people think of Christmas as the celebration of the Incarnation of Christ, but really that Feast is just a sequel to the real Feast of the Incarnation, which is the Annunciation.  The proper name for Christmas is the Feast of the Nativity of Our Lord, “nativity” meaning “birth”.  Christmas is the celebration of Christ’s birth; the Annunciation is the celebration of the Incarnation.

The Annunciation was so widely recognized as the real starting-place of our salvation that in many parts of western Europe the day was observed as the start of the new year even after the Reformation.

“The Word was made flesh” at the Annunciation, at the moment when, by the action of the Holy Spirit, Our Lady conceived Christ.  That was the moment when the Second Person of the Holy Trinity joined himself forever to a true human nature.  That was when everything changed, though as with many great changes wrought by God, it happened in a quiet corner of an out-of-the-way place, unremarked by the world.

One of the most remarkable things about this entire momentous, miraculous event was that this moment planned by God from before the foundation of the world, this interruption of the decline of the human race, this cosmic D-Day, hung upon the assent of a young lady.  There is no exigent circumstance in which God overpowers the human will, even though the destiny of the universe hangs upon the decision of that will.

Certainly God knew to whom he was sending the Archangel Gabriel; this wasn’t a lottery.  But Mary had the freedom to choose.  Moses tried to say no to God.  Jonah tried to say no to God.  The rich young ruler in the Gospel did say no to God.  Everything hung upon Our Lady’s assent.

Every time I say the Angelus, I imagine the whole heavenly host watching expectantly, the whole of creation holding its breath, and then the great joy at the sound of the words, “Be it unto me according to thy word.”  For though we say “she conceived by the Holy Ghost” first, the acceptance or rejection of that conception lay with Mary.  Would God have found another way if she had said no?  Certainly.  But that does not take away from the fact that Our Lady said yes.  The fact that other bystanders might have jumped into the water to save a drowning swimmer does not take away the honor due to the one who did it first.

Only when Mary had given her “Fiat mihi” did the Archangel depart (Luke 1:38).

It’s amazing to think that God treats us all with the same dignity with which he treated Our Lady: he gives us the opportunity to say no to his work of grace within us, and through us, to the world.  And this is an opportunity that we all take all too frequently!  Even if we’re not saying no to God in a grand, existential way, we do say no to him in little ways all the time:  when we neglect to pray, or to act charitably, or when we indulge our wills or appetites unduly, we turn away from God.  We follow the example of Eve, who was the first to say no to God.

The Church has always recognized Our Lady as the New Eve, even as her Son is the New Adam.  What Eve tied up in knots, Our Lady loosed.  What Eve decided based upon representations made to her by a fallen angel, Our Lady decided in reliance on the word of the Archangel.  And because of the work of Christ begun when Mary said yes, we all have the chance, as long as we live, to say yes to God.

I hope that you’ll be able to join us tomorrow (March 25) at 11:00 a.m. for the celebration of this great Feast.  The Archbishop has dispensed from the lenten fast those who come to Mass tomorrow, meaning that you may enjoy the festivity of this day by having whatever you gave up for Lent.  Since tomorrow is a Wednesday in Lent during which meat is normally off the menu, you may also enjoy meat tomorrow if you come to Mass.  A truly festal day, indeed, before we turn to the deep penitence of Holy Week. 

—JB+

Next
Next

Hanging in There