Advent Reflections
By Fr. Nathan Mamo, S.T.L.
Baruch 5:1-9; Philippians 1:4-6, 8-11; Luke 3:1-6
Metaphor is the literary tool of revelation much like mathematics is the tool of scientific measurement. Each describes the truth from particular perspectives of healthy life.
Baruch was a legendary secretary and confidant of the prophet Jeremiah. In this Sunday’s first reading, he personifies Jerusalem as an important person dressing in the finest clothing for the sake of celebrating the grandest gift of God, salvation from a past extended period of mourning. Jerusalem itself is a metaphor for all the Jewish believers of the day, that is in the late 500s BC, when the Jewish captives were beginning to be sent back from Babylon to the freedom of a ruined Jerusalem and Judah. The metaphor exhorts responsible faith in the forthcoming rebuilding and renewal of Jerusalem. Imagined salvation for that ancient audience often consisted of “restoration” or going back to the so-called “good old days” of Kings David and Solomon when the Jerusalem monarchy and Solomon’s temple were new and glorious, when the city and nation were secure, and when everyone lived in God’s peace. At least this was the imagined salvation. It wasn’t quite like that. The “good old days” are never quite as good as the a memory imagines them to have been. Nor is that what salvation would come to mean to later generations of believers, including ours.
The third chapter of Luke’s gospel begins the actual announcement of the good news of God. John the Baptizer initiates his ministry. He will eventually point out the actual lamb of God, but this is not merely the appreciation of some earthly status or power. Rather it is the cause for genuine hope in God’s power to save, in spite of even the great imperial power of Rome and the political government of Palestine. God’s power begins by subtle revelation, the prophetic preaching of the adult child of humble Zechariah, a priest who at first doubted God’s angelic messenger. Hope is metaphorically described as making just about everything (including the roads!) perfect. They were asked to imagine an unpaved highway without potholes! Indeed, the hope hinted at is not merely for a few elect, nor even for the whole of the Jewish people. Rather, “all flesh shall see the salvation of God.” And, salvation here is not a going backwards. As the gospel story unfolds, it moves forward into ideas and realms never before imagined. God is bigger than the human imagination allows; those saved are more numerous than any tribe, people, nation, i.e., everyone can be saved; and salvation is not to be in mere human or physical terms.
Paul exhorts his Philippian Christians to be confident about the completion that will be provided with the arrival of “the day of Christ Jesus.” They understood that “day” to be the occasion of his second and final “coming.” They expected it as the ultimate two-fold revelation: destroy evil and the injustices it causes, and save and restore those who believe in the Risen Christ and his gospel, who belong to his community of faith. That “day” was thought to be immanent. Even in the 21st Christian Century, there are still some who hope for and profess “Jesus Coming Soon.” But, ours is no longer that ancient cosmological appreciation (as mentioned in last week’s comments). Rather, theologically healthy modern Christian believers have broader and more informed minds and imaginations than did the ancients, at least about the science of reality. We appreciate all of creation as fundamentally good and already “saved” by God’s very grace. We hope that all will be “saved” in whatever might be the terms of ultimate divine justice. And, we profess to live our lives with hope, compassion and wisdom so as to attract as many as we can to an immediately blessed life that comes from embracing the Gospel of Jesus Christ.
And, yes, much is described by means of metaphor in the sacred scriptures, because sometimes no words other than the metaphorical can begin to convey the wondrous mystery of God’s goodness and salvation.
Even zealous religious reform is sometimes ineffective in practical terms. Zephaniah prophesied and ministered during the era of the famous King Josiah (640-609 BC) in who’s day an important lost portion of the Book of Deuteronomy (chapters 12-26) was rediscovered in the temple (621 BC). This discovery had profound effect on reforming the ways in which temple worship was conducted in Jerusalem, a re-condemnation of idolatry, and a reform and renewal of the Passover ritual. Josiah and Zephaniah emphasized a refocus on their status as God’s chosen people even reaching out to the Israelites of the former northern Kingdom of Israel. This was cause for great rejoicing. Sadly, Josiah was killed in battle (at Megiddo in 609) and his successors were politically unable to lead intelligently, bravely or wisely. But Zephaniah recognized the tremendous blessing that embodies God’s call to holiness. He was thrilled with the on-going renewal in the divine compassion which was poised to be the new hallmark of God’s chosen people. King Josiah’s death and the subjugation of Judah by the Egyptians brought an end to the religious reform, when the people reverted to a less conscientious religious practice, going though the ritual motions, without much interior depth and sincerity.
Paul must have been genuinely fond of his Philippian Christians. In Sunday’s text he demonstrates a direct connection among a) the kindness which must be typical of Christians, b) their awareness of living in the very presence of Christ, and c) the profound and overwhelming peace that comes from such lived faith. Mere pro forma religious faith is not sufficient. Deep faith, grounded in peace, is sustainable only by those who remind themselves often of it even in the face of life’s biggest challenges. It was to the Philippians that Paul pointed out that they were already citizens of heaven. Liturgically, today was formerly known as Gaudete Sunday, from the opening exhortation of this text as well as from the entrance antiphon and the Responsorial Psalm. But, again, this joy is a joy of depth and profound appreciation of God’s presence, not the superficial smile of a happy face button.
Luke’s gospel narrative for the 3rd Advent Sunday describes in detail just how reflective and convicting was the powerful preaching of John the Baptizer for his audience. The three categories of listeners (crowds = ordinary people; tax collectors = very unobservant Jews; soldiers = violent pagan oppressors) provide a sense that John was remarkably effective at getting the attention of his society. Of course, he would later be heard even by King Herod Antipas and his wife, for which he would be killed. But his preaching, while revolutionary and most provocative, was considered “good news” to his hearers, who accepted John’s baptism as a sign of great personal repentance. John then re-aimed their hopes to “one mightier than I.” This foretold one, Jesus, would baptize, again with the delicacy of religious metaphor, “with the Holy Spirit and fire.”
The Church claims that the baptism we’ve received in the Gospel of Jesus Christ is precisely that baptism “with the Holy Spirit and fire.” Are our lives changed as profoundly as were those of John’s hearers? The people of 7th Century BC Judah accepted the Spirit of God’s Word, but they seem to have done so much too late and only temporarily. Will we embrace it sooner and for an entire lifetime?
Advent Sunday IV – Year C
Micah 5:1-4a; Hebrews 10:5-10; Luke 1:39-45
A basic component of hope is the expectation of something genuinely good and healthy.
Micah was one of the so-called Minor Prophets (i.e., author of one of the shorter prophetic books) who ministered and prophesied in the southern Kingdom of Judah and Jerusalem from perhaps 742 to 701 BC. He was a contemporary of the Major Prophet Isaiah in both time and locale. Micah recognized the need for salvation in the era when the northern Kingdom of Israel was being besieged and conquered by the Assyrian Empire. Jews of Judah and Jerusalem were rightly very anxious about Assyria possibly turning it’s power against them. They needed serious reason to hope. To ancient public leaders, including prophets, fell the task of providing realistic and effective reasons for hope to the population. Prophets preached the power of truthfully engaging reality as a command from the God of truth. But, life, including life in difficult times, must be truly found to be worth living or no hope will be perceived. Such is Micah’s message: salvation is yet to come. Later Christians will interpret this as a prediction of the birth of Jesus Christ, the messiah from the Christian perspective. The ancient Jews were less specific. Salvation could be, after all, political or spiritual. The telling proof of the real savior would be the profound peace that genuine salvation produces. This text is used in anticipation of the Feast of the Nativity later this week in the church’s liturgical calendar with a markedly Christian interpretation.
The unknown author of the letter to the Hebrews wrestled with one of the two fundamental Christian Christological mysteries, the Incarnation, i.e., the profound reality that the God of mystery, infinity and wonder can be perceived in human terms and human form. Described in John’s Gospel as “the word was made flesh and dwelt among us,” Hebrews is also helping the early church make the transition from worshiping an invisible God to worshiping a God touched and loved. The transition is also from a religious culture of temple sacrifice to that of a eucharistic (i.e., gratitude-based), communal faith life. Modern Catholics have grown up with the liturgical and sacramental life of the church in close proximity with familiar ritual. The ancients had to let go of what had been familiar to them and embrace a religious fellowship of mixed cultures, new customs and overwhelming gratitude. Under the Spirit’s guidance, their worship quickly evolved to a weekly eucharistic celebration at which the shared loaf and cup of the Last Supper was memorialized in the context of deep fellowship and the Word of God.
The Lucan gospel text of the 4th Advent Sunday is anticipatory of the feast of Christmas later this week. In the narrative, the newly announced and obediently accepted presence of the savior moves young Mary of Nazareth to visit Elizabeth. This is the first human step in the propagation of the good news as the story of the Christ and his gospel will be told by Luke and the other evangelists. In a way, this makes Mary the first evangelist. (Note that in what we might call the Divine Plan, it seems that Mary, the mother of Jesus, is the first witness to the Incarnation. Later, the first witness to the Resurrection in all four canonical gospels will be another Mary, the Magdalene. This might be said to make Mary Magdalene the first apostle.) Elizabeth, as the beneficiary of Mary’s visitation, replies in terms of gratitude for the Incarnation: the very presence of the Lord makes the beholder blessed, even as God is the Most Blessed One. To be blessed is to be filled with hope.
Advent Sunday I – Year C
Jeremiah 33:14-16; 1 Thessalonians 3:12–4:2; Luke 21:25-28, 34-36
Revelation is as much about discovery, appreciation and insight as it is about communication. That the human person, including believers, is created in the image and likeness of God allows each of us an occasion for engaging, thinking and living fully and conscientiously. Advent begins with just such examples of faith life by the ancient prophets, apostles and those who witnessed the ministry and life of Jesus himself.
Jeremiah prophesied before and during the capture of Jerusalem and the Kingdom of Judah (598 BC) by the Babylonian Empire, and then during the actual destruction of the city (587/6 BC). With captivity came slavery for the Jews of the southern kingdom. Jeremiah had been remarkably critical of the political and religious leadership in Judah before its fall in 598, and he had been actively persecuted and shunted aside by his own. Such selfish and unwise political and religious leadership resulted in national servitude. Jeremiah’s task quickly changed to prophesying hope and encouragement. Anticipating that God would eventually (even if very slowly) save and make things right, he tried enthusiastically to get his people to look at the long term possibilities and not to be obsessed by the short term problems of life. Such a message was as difficult to hear then as it is in society today. In short, Jeremiah was very thoughtful, reflective and intelligent, while his audience, both leaders and populace, were reactionary, fearful and rather thoughtless. Neither did they demonstrate much a healthy confidence in God’s saving covenant. They wanted a miracle on God’s part to save them with no expense of effort on their own. Jeremiah wanted them to engage life intelligently with a healthy and responsible faith to guide them. They went off to Babylonian Captivity, while according to tradition, Jeremiah retired to exile in Egypt, but in relative freedom. Jeremiah proclaimed a wise, responsible and saving God, rather than a divinity of magical and shallow showiness.
In Luke’s Sunday passage, the common cultural expectation in the Ancient Near East of an apocalyptic end of the world is put into a short few verses. Their ancient sense of reality was that creation was essentially the play-thing of the Creator God who could and would destroy it when he decided to do so. Just such an end was expected and hoped-for by the early Christians as a consequence of God tiring of the injustices and evil deeds of those who ruled the Roman Imperial world. Luke very likely wrote his gospel account for early Christians of gentile (non-Jewish) background who lived outside of Palestine, who had heard about, but not been eye-witnesses to, the ministry or resurrection of Jesus. Luke was trying to help them make sense of a gospel which was at once very appealing and hope-filled, but which was applied to their gentile cultures only with some difficulty, i.e, significant cultural and personal changes. He puts the challenge to his believing audience to hear the gospel message while engaging in life actively, and to think and reflect about how life and the gospel go together. For Luke, indeed, we can perceive that daily life incarnates the gospel message and the gospel message critiques daily life as lived. We could have been his direct audience very effectively. We must not embrace an ancient cosmology. We ought to live and believe being very aware of the temporary nature of our own lives and practice now for how we hope to sum up our own lives when they end. We own the gospel to help us live life fully now, not to inhibit or denigrate this physical universe. Discovery and wonder are crucial parts of revelation.
St. Paul in 1st Thessalonians, along with nearly all first century Christians, embraced the same end-of-the-world cosmology as we read in Luke’s gospel. There was no sense, expectation or desire for long and fruitful lives followed by a gracious period of retirement as would develop in the 20th century. Paul refers to “the coming of our Lord” as the literal end of the world. Today, we expect the end more logically in terms of death by natural causes, preferably after a long life. No matter what, the eventual end of the thoughtful believer’s life has an important claim on our attention. Why do we live the way we do? A fundamental gospel message of Christ is hope even being certain of one’s own end of life. What do we discover by the light of Christ’s hope? For what will we thank him?
Jeremiah prophesied before and during the capture of Jerusalem and the Kingdom of Judah (598 BC) by the Babylonian Empire, and then during the actual destruction of the city (587/6 BC). With captivity came slavery for the Jews of the southern kingdom. Jeremiah had been remarkably critical of the political and religious leadership in Judah before its fall in 598, and he had been actively persecuted and shunted aside by his own. Such selfish and unwise political and religious leadership resulted in national servitude. Jeremiah’s task quickly changed to prophesying hope and encouragement. Anticipating that God would eventually (even if very slowly) save and make things right, he tried enthusiastically to get his people to look at the long term possibilities and not to be obsessed by the short term problems of life. Such a message was as difficult to hear then as it is in society today. In short, Jeremiah was very thoughtful, reflective and intelligent, while his audience, both leaders and populace, were reactionary, fearful and rather thoughtless. Neither did they demonstrate much a healthy confidence in God’s saving covenant. They wanted a miracle on God’s part to save them with no expense of effort on their own. Jeremiah wanted them to engage life intelligently with a healthy and responsible faith to guide them. They went off to Babylonian Captivity, while according to tradition, Jeremiah retired to exile in Egypt, but in relative freedom. Jeremiah proclaimed a wise, responsible and saving God, rather than a divinity of magical and shallow showiness.
In Luke’s Sunday passage, the common cultural expectation in the Ancient Near East of an apocalyptic end of the world is put into a short few verses. Their ancient sense of reality was that creation was essentially the play-thing of the Creator God who could and would destroy it when he decided to do so. Just such an end was expected and hoped-for by the early Christians as a consequence of God tiring of the injustices and evil deeds of those who ruled the Roman Imperial world. Luke very likely wrote his gospel account for early Christians of gentile (non-Jewish) background who lived outside of Palestine, who had heard about, but not been eye-witnesses to, the ministry or resurrection of Jesus. Luke was trying to help them make sense of a gospel which was at once very appealing and hope-filled, but which was applied to their gentile cultures only with some difficulty, i.e, significant cultural and personal changes. He puts the challenge to his believing audience to hear the gospel message while engaging in life actively, and to think and reflect about how life and the gospel go together. For Luke, indeed, we can perceive that daily life incarnates the gospel message and the gospel message critiques daily life as lived. We could have been his direct audience very effectively. We must not embrace an ancient cosmology. We ought to live and believe being very aware of the temporary nature of our own lives and practice now for how we hope to sum up our own lives when they end. We own the gospel to help us live life fully now, not to inhibit or denigrate this physical universe. Discovery and wonder are crucial parts of revelation.
St. Paul in 1st Thessalonians, along with nearly all first century Christians, embraced the same end-of-the-world cosmology as we read in Luke’s gospel. There was no sense, expectation or desire for long and fruitful lives followed by a gracious period of retirement as would develop in the 20th century. Paul refers to “the coming of our Lord” as the literal end of the world. Today, we expect the end more logically in terms of death by natural causes, preferably after a long life. No matter what, the eventual end of the thoughtful believer’s life has an important claim on our attention. Why do we live the way we do? A fundamental gospel message of Christ is hope even being certain of one’s own end of life. What do we discover by the light of Christ’s hope? For what will we thank him?
Advent Sunday II – Year C
Baruch 5:1-9; Philippians 1:4-6, 8-11; Luke 3:1-6
Metaphor is the literary tool of revelation much like mathematics is the tool of scientific measurement. Each describes the truth from particular perspectives of healthy life.
Baruch was a legendary secretary and confidant of the prophet Jeremiah. In this Sunday’s first reading, he personifies Jerusalem as an important person dressing in the finest clothing for the sake of celebrating the grandest gift of God, salvation from a past extended period of mourning. Jerusalem itself is a metaphor for all the Jewish believers of the day, that is in the late 500s BC, when the Jewish captives were beginning to be sent back from Babylon to the freedom of a ruined Jerusalem and Judah. The metaphor exhorts responsible faith in the forthcoming rebuilding and renewal of Jerusalem. Imagined salvation for that ancient audience often consisted of “restoration” or going back to the so-called “good old days” of Kings David and Solomon when the Jerusalem monarchy and Solomon’s temple were new and glorious, when the city and nation were secure, and when everyone lived in God’s peace. At least this was the imagined salvation. It wasn’t quite like that. The “good old days” are never quite as good as the a memory imagines them to have been. Nor is that what salvation would come to mean to later generations of believers, including ours.
The third chapter of Luke’s gospel begins the actual announcement of the good news of God. John the Baptizer initiates his ministry. He will eventually point out the actual lamb of God, but this is not merely the appreciation of some earthly status or power. Rather it is the cause for genuine hope in God’s power to save, in spite of even the great imperial power of Rome and the political government of Palestine. God’s power begins by subtle revelation, the prophetic preaching of the adult child of humble Zechariah, a priest who at first doubted God’s angelic messenger. Hope is metaphorically described as making just about everything (including the roads!) perfect. They were asked to imagine an unpaved highway without potholes! Indeed, the hope hinted at is not merely for a few elect, nor even for the whole of the Jewish people. Rather, “all flesh shall see the salvation of God.” And, salvation here is not a going backwards. As the gospel story unfolds, it moves forward into ideas and realms never before imagined. God is bigger than the human imagination allows; those saved are more numerous than any tribe, people, nation, i.e., everyone can be saved; and salvation is not to be in mere human or physical terms.
Paul exhorts his Philippian Christians to be confident about the completion that will be provided with the arrival of “the day of Christ Jesus.” They understood that “day” to be the occasion of his second and final “coming.” They expected it as the ultimate two-fold revelation: destroy evil and the injustices it causes, and save and restore those who believe in the Risen Christ and his gospel, who belong to his community of faith. That “day” was thought to be immanent. Even in the 21st Christian Century, there are still some who hope for and profess “Jesus Coming Soon.” But, ours is no longer that ancient cosmological appreciation (as mentioned in last week’s comments). Rather, theologically healthy modern Christian believers have broader and more informed minds and imaginations than did the ancients, at least about the science of reality. We appreciate all of creation as fundamentally good and already “saved” by God’s very grace. We hope that all will be “saved” in whatever might be the terms of ultimate divine justice. And, we profess to live our lives with hope, compassion and wisdom so as to attract as many as we can to an immediately blessed life that comes from embracing the Gospel of Jesus Christ.
And, yes, much is described by means of metaphor in the sacred scriptures, because sometimes no words other than the metaphorical can begin to convey the wondrous mystery of God’s goodness and salvation.
Advent Sunday III – Year C
Zephaniah 3:14-18a; Philippians 4:4-7; Luke 3:10-18
Zephaniah 3:14-18a; Philippians 4:4-7; Luke 3:10-18
Even zealous religious reform is sometimes ineffective in practical terms. Zephaniah prophesied and ministered during the era of the famous King Josiah (640-609 BC) in who’s day an important lost portion of the Book of Deuteronomy (chapters 12-26) was rediscovered in the temple (621 BC). This discovery had profound effect on reforming the ways in which temple worship was conducted in Jerusalem, a re-condemnation of idolatry, and a reform and renewal of the Passover ritual. Josiah and Zephaniah emphasized a refocus on their status as God’s chosen people even reaching out to the Israelites of the former northern Kingdom of Israel. This was cause for great rejoicing. Sadly, Josiah was killed in battle (at Megiddo in 609) and his successors were politically unable to lead intelligently, bravely or wisely. But Zephaniah recognized the tremendous blessing that embodies God’s call to holiness. He was thrilled with the on-going renewal in the divine compassion which was poised to be the new hallmark of God’s chosen people. King Josiah’s death and the subjugation of Judah by the Egyptians brought an end to the religious reform, when the people reverted to a less conscientious religious practice, going though the ritual motions, without much interior depth and sincerity.Paul must have been genuinely fond of his Philippian Christians. In Sunday’s text he demonstrates a direct connection among a) the kindness which must be typical of Christians, b) their awareness of living in the very presence of Christ, and c) the profound and overwhelming peace that comes from such lived faith. Mere pro forma religious faith is not sufficient. Deep faith, grounded in peace, is sustainable only by those who remind themselves often of it even in the face of life’s biggest challenges. It was to the Philippians that Paul pointed out that they were already citizens of heaven. Liturgically, today was formerly known as Gaudete Sunday, from the opening exhortation of this text as well as from the entrance antiphon and the Responsorial Psalm. But, again, this joy is a joy of depth and profound appreciation of God’s presence, not the superficial smile of a happy face button.
Luke’s gospel narrative for the 3rd Advent Sunday describes in detail just how reflective and convicting was the powerful preaching of John the Baptizer for his audience. The three categories of listeners (crowds = ordinary people; tax collectors = very unobservant Jews; soldiers = violent pagan oppressors) provide a sense that John was remarkably effective at getting the attention of his society. Of course, he would later be heard even by King Herod Antipas and his wife, for which he would be killed. But his preaching, while revolutionary and most provocative, was considered “good news” to his hearers, who accepted John’s baptism as a sign of great personal repentance. John then re-aimed their hopes to “one mightier than I.” This foretold one, Jesus, would baptize, again with the delicacy of religious metaphor, “with the Holy Spirit and fire.”
The Church claims that the baptism we’ve received in the Gospel of Jesus Christ is precisely that baptism “with the Holy Spirit and fire.” Are our lives changed as profoundly as were those of John’s hearers? The people of 7th Century BC Judah accepted the Spirit of God’s Word, but they seem to have done so much too late and only temporarily. Will we embrace it sooner and for an entire lifetime?
Advent Sunday IV – Year C
Micah 5:1-4a; Hebrews 10:5-10; Luke 1:39-45
A basic component of hope is the expectation of something genuinely good and healthy.
Micah was one of the so-called Minor Prophets (i.e., author of one of the shorter prophetic books) who ministered and prophesied in the southern Kingdom of Judah and Jerusalem from perhaps 742 to 701 BC. He was a contemporary of the Major Prophet Isaiah in both time and locale. Micah recognized the need for salvation in the era when the northern Kingdom of Israel was being besieged and conquered by the Assyrian Empire. Jews of Judah and Jerusalem were rightly very anxious about Assyria possibly turning it’s power against them. They needed serious reason to hope. To ancient public leaders, including prophets, fell the task of providing realistic and effective reasons for hope to the population. Prophets preached the power of truthfully engaging reality as a command from the God of truth. But, life, including life in difficult times, must be truly found to be worth living or no hope will be perceived. Such is Micah’s message: salvation is yet to come. Later Christians will interpret this as a prediction of the birth of Jesus Christ, the messiah from the Christian perspective. The ancient Jews were less specific. Salvation could be, after all, political or spiritual. The telling proof of the real savior would be the profound peace that genuine salvation produces. This text is used in anticipation of the Feast of the Nativity later this week in the church’s liturgical calendar with a markedly Christian interpretation.
The unknown author of the letter to the Hebrews wrestled with one of the two fundamental Christian Christological mysteries, the Incarnation, i.e., the profound reality that the God of mystery, infinity and wonder can be perceived in human terms and human form. Described in John’s Gospel as “the word was made flesh and dwelt among us,” Hebrews is also helping the early church make the transition from worshiping an invisible God to worshiping a God touched and loved. The transition is also from a religious culture of temple sacrifice to that of a eucharistic (i.e., gratitude-based), communal faith life. Modern Catholics have grown up with the liturgical and sacramental life of the church in close proximity with familiar ritual. The ancients had to let go of what had been familiar to them and embrace a religious fellowship of mixed cultures, new customs and overwhelming gratitude. Under the Spirit’s guidance, their worship quickly evolved to a weekly eucharistic celebration at which the shared loaf and cup of the Last Supper was memorialized in the context of deep fellowship and the Word of God.
The Lucan gospel text of the 4th Advent Sunday is anticipatory of the feast of Christmas later this week. In the narrative, the newly announced and obediently accepted presence of the savior moves young Mary of Nazareth to visit Elizabeth. This is the first human step in the propagation of the good news as the story of the Christ and his gospel will be told by Luke and the other evangelists. In a way, this makes Mary the first evangelist. (Note that in what we might call the Divine Plan, it seems that Mary, the mother of Jesus, is the first witness to the Incarnation. Later, the first witness to the Resurrection in all four canonical gospels will be another Mary, the Magdalene. This might be said to make Mary Magdalene the first apostle.) Elizabeth, as the beneficiary of Mary’s visitation, replies in terms of gratitude for the Incarnation: the very presence of the Lord makes the beholder blessed, even as God is the Most Blessed One. To be blessed is to be filled with hope.