Writing shortly before the time of Jesus
the Roman poet Ovid said,
“Women’s words are as light
as the doomed leaves whirling in autumn;
easily swept by the wind,
easily drowned by the wave” (The Loves bk II).
Alas, Ovid’s opinion of women’s words
was not unusual in the ancient world.
Women’s words were thought trivial,
unserious and flighty,
unsuited to weighty matters.
the Roman poet Ovid said,
“Women’s words are as light
as the doomed leaves whirling in autumn;
easily swept by the wind,
easily drowned by the wave” (The Loves bk II).
Alas, Ovid’s opinion of women’s words
was not unusual in the ancient world.
Women’s words were thought trivial,
unserious and flighty,
unsuited to weighty matters.
But in a world that largely discounted
the words of women
as weightless and windswept,
we hear in today’s Gospel reading
words spoken between women
on weighty matters—
the prophetic words of Elizabeth
speaking of the divine Word
who waits in Mary’s womb:
“Blessed are you among women,
and blessed is the fruit of your womb.”
Her words are indeed windswept,
but it is the breath of the Spirit
that sends them whirling.
the words of women
as weightless and windswept,
we hear in today’s Gospel reading
words spoken between women
on weighty matters—
the prophetic words of Elizabeth
speaking of the divine Word
who waits in Mary’s womb:
“Blessed are you among women,
and blessed is the fruit of your womb.”
Her words are indeed windswept,
but it is the breath of the Spirit
that sends them whirling.
Of course, the weight of Elizabeth’s words
count as nothing compared to Mary’s words
spoken earlier to the angel: “Be it done to me
according to your word.”
On these words hangs the hope of the world.
Perhaps no greater words have ever
been spoken by a human person,
for they are the doorway through which
God’s Word made flesh,
the blessed fruit of Mary’s womb,
enters into our sorrowing, sin-sick world.
Truly blessed is she who believed.
count as nothing compared to Mary’s words
spoken earlier to the angel: “Be it done to me
according to your word.”
On these words hangs the hope of the world.
Perhaps no greater words have ever
been spoken by a human person,
for they are the doorway through which
God’s Word made flesh,
the blessed fruit of Mary’s womb,
enters into our sorrowing, sin-sick world.
Truly blessed is she who believed.
We should not be surprised, however,
that the Gospel would give
that the Gospel would give
such weight to women’s words.
After all, what do we celebrate at Christmas
if not God’s preference for those things
that the world counts as of little weight?
Think of the words of the prophet Micah,
which we have just heard:
“You, Bethlehem-Ephrathah
too small to be among the clans of Judah,
from you shall come forth for me
one who is to be ruler in Israel.”
It’s just so typical of the God of Israel,
always preferring the underdog.
God chose David,
the puniest among his brothers,
from the little town of Bethlehem
(which is simply a polite way
of saying “nowheresville”),
to be Israel’s anointed ruler.
And now, the prophet Micah foretells,
God is going to do it again;
God will send a new anointed one,
and this ruler whose reign
“shall reach to the ends of the earth”
is going to come from,
you guessed it,
the little town of Bethlehem,
“too small to be among the clans of Judah.”
After all, what do we celebrate at Christmas
if not God’s preference for those things
that the world counts as of little weight?
Think of the words of the prophet Micah,
which we have just heard:
“You, Bethlehem-Ephrathah
too small to be among the clans of Judah,
from you shall come forth for me
one who is to be ruler in Israel.”
It’s just so typical of the God of Israel,
always preferring the underdog.
God chose David,
the puniest among his brothers,
from the little town of Bethlehem
(which is simply a polite way
of saying “nowheresville”),
to be Israel’s anointed ruler.
And now, the prophet Micah foretells,
God is going to do it again;
God will send a new anointed one,
and this ruler whose reign
“shall reach to the ends of the earth”
is going to come from,
you guessed it,
the little town of Bethlehem,
“too small to be among the clans of Judah.”
What we will celebrate at Christmas
is the great mystery of redemption:
the almighty Lord of the universe,
creator of all things visible and invisible,
chooses to be with us
not as a king,
not as a general,
not as a scholar
from whom we expect weighty words,
but as a speechless child from nowheresville,
as a wandering rabbi who followers
are a bunch of scruffy ignoramuses,
as a convicted blasphemer and revolutionary
tortured to death on a Roman cross.
If this is who God is,
if this is how the Word takes flesh
and dwells among us,
then of course his arrival is announced
by those whose words were counted
as of little weight,
of course it is an insignificant old woman
through whom the Spirit speaks,
of course it is the word of one young girl
upon which our hopes hang.
is the great mystery of redemption:
the almighty Lord of the universe,
creator of all things visible and invisible,
chooses to be with us
not as a king,
not as a general,
not as a scholar
from whom we expect weighty words,
but as a speechless child from nowheresville,
as a wandering rabbi who followers
are a bunch of scruffy ignoramuses,
as a convicted blasphemer and revolutionary
tortured to death on a Roman cross.
If this is who God is,
if this is how the Word takes flesh
and dwells among us,
then of course his arrival is announced
by those whose words were counted
as of little weight,
of course it is an insignificant old woman
through whom the Spirit speaks,
of course it is the word of one young girl
upon which our hopes hang.
And if this is who God is,
then who should we be?
If this is how the eternal Word is spoken,
then how should we listen?
Whose words do I think of
as words of little weight?
Who do I think could not possibly
say something I needed to hear?
Someone of a different political party?
Someone of a different social class?
Someone of a different race?
Someone of a different religion?
How do we learn to listen
and weigh the words
of those we may have written off?
then who should we be?
If this is how the eternal Word is spoken,
then how should we listen?
Whose words do I think of
as words of little weight?
Who do I think could not possibly
say something I needed to hear?
Someone of a different political party?
Someone of a different social class?
Someone of a different race?
Someone of a different religion?
How do we learn to listen
and weigh the words
of those we may have written off?
This fall the Church has embarked
on a worldwide synod, which will offer us,
as Pope Francis said in his opening address,
“the opportunity to become a listening Church….
To listen to the Spirit in adoration and prayer….
To listen to our brothers and sisters speak
of their hopes and of the crises of faith
present in different parts of the world.”
Sometimes we might feel that in the Church
our voices have little weight
and our concerns go unheard;
the synod is an attempt to remedy that.
For our part, here at the Cathedral of Mary Our Queen,
we will be holding listening sessions in late January
so that our parishioners can have an opportunity
to speak of their joys and hopes,
their sorrows and anxieties,
which will eventually be reported
to the bishops meeting in Rome.
But these sessions will be more
than an opportunity to speak;
they will also be a chance to learn to listen,
to hear the diversity of voices
that make up our community,
to hear what others love about our faith
and to hear what causes them pain.
You can sign up on our website,
but even if you don’t sign up
you can simply show up.
on a worldwide synod, which will offer us,
as Pope Francis said in his opening address,
“the opportunity to become a listening Church….
To listen to the Spirit in adoration and prayer….
To listen to our brothers and sisters speak
of their hopes and of the crises of faith
present in different parts of the world.”
Sometimes we might feel that in the Church
our voices have little weight
and our concerns go unheard;
the synod is an attempt to remedy that.
For our part, here at the Cathedral of Mary Our Queen,
we will be holding listening sessions in late January
so that our parishioners can have an opportunity
to speak of their joys and hopes,
their sorrows and anxieties,
which will eventually be reported
to the bishops meeting in Rome.
But these sessions will be more
than an opportunity to speak;
they will also be a chance to learn to listen,
to hear the diversity of voices
that make up our community,
to hear what others love about our faith
and to hear what causes them pain.
You can sign up on our website,
but even if you don’t sign up
you can simply show up.
During this time of listening
we need the help of God’s Spirit
to open our ears to hear those
whose words we may have thought weightless.
And so the Church encourages us
to pray the prayer that began
each session of the Second Vatican Council:
we need the help of God’s Spirit
to open our ears to hear those
whose words we may have thought weightless.
And so the Church encourages us
to pray the prayer that began
each session of the Second Vatican Council:
We stand before You, Holy Spirit,
as we gather together in Your name.
With You alone to guide us,
make Yourself at home in our hearts;
Teach us the way we must go
and how we are to pursue it.
We are weak and sinful;
do not let us promote disorder.
Do not let ignorance
lead us down the wrong path
nor partiality influence our actions.
Let us find in You our unity
so that we may journey together to eternal life
and not stray from the way of truth
and what is right.
All this we ask of You,
who are at work in every place and time,
in the communion of the Father and the Son,
forever and ever. Amen.
