Lord, let your face shine upon your servant;
save me in your steadfast love. Amen.
The Gospel reading today depicts the Visitation – Mary’s journey to her cousin Elizabeth, and the encounter between these two women and the children they carried: John the Baptist in Elizabeth’s womb and Jesus in Mary’s. This powerful moment has inspired countless artists through the centuries, capturing the joy as John leapt in Elizabeth’s womb and Elizabeth proclaimed her blessing to Mary, who had accepted God’s call to bear the divine baby. Their joy resonates with our anticipation of Christmas, reflected in our church’s beautiful decorations we can see today. Though we remain on the fourth Sunday of Advent, we eagerly await the celebration of Jesus’s birth.
However, this morning, I would like to invite you to look deeper beneath the surface joy of this narrative and contemplate the complex emotions Mary and Elizabeth must have experienced. How did they truly feel about their pregnancies? Were they ready to embrace their identities as mothers-to-be, chosen to bear John the Baptist and Jesus?
Consider Mary’s situation. According to Luke’s account, the angel Gabriel appeared without warning to inform her—not consult her—about her pregnancy. She was only engaged to Joseph. The angel simply announced that she was God’s chosen one, destined to bear a divine baby. We often focus on Mary’s courage when she responds, “Here am I, the servant of the Lord; let it be with me according to your word.”
However accepting God’s call did not exempt Mary from emotional turmoil. She faced the daunting prospect of becoming an unmarried mother in a patriarchal society—where everything hinged on heterosexual marriage and husband. Joseph, without any choice in the matter, would need to adopt a child not his own. How terrifying it must have been for a young woman to carry a child before marriage, unable to name its father. This was hardly “good news” for Mary to share with Joseph.
The Gospel tells us “Mary set out and went with haste to the house of Zechariah and greeted Elizabeth.” This phrase “with haste” carries undertones of alarm, flight, and anxiety. Mary travelled alone, likely feeling ashamed and frightened, seeking understanding and comfort from her cousin. She was literally running for her life from potential patriarchal violence – at worst, stoning; at best, divorce. This was no joyful baby shower journey. Her visit arose from complex emotional needs: the desperate search for understanding, comfort, and survival.
Elizabeth’s situation was similarly challenging. In a culture where fertility was seen as a divine blessing, her barrenness drew scrutiny and judgment. As the wife of Zechariah, a priest who was supposed to embody holiness and divine favour, her childlessness sparked rumours and gossip. The couple endured crushing social and religious expectations. Elizabeth surely understood the stigma and violence—inherent in patriarchal structures that reduced marriage to procreation.
Understanding this patriarchal and heterosexual-normative context helps us appreciate the profound power of this encounter between two women who shared experiences of fear, shame, stigmatisation, and potential violence. They forged a bond of solidarity, mutual support, and understanding. This connection ran deep—between two marginalised women, between their children, and between their very wombs. (Here, ‘womb’ can also refer to ‘gut’ and ‘belly’– suggesting the courage and determination they needed to face their challenges.)
It is from this solidarity and connection, amid all their uncertainty, fear, vulnerability, and shame, that true joy emerges. This is the final preparation for us before Christmas.
Today, as we prepare to baptise Zara, we witness another powerful moment of divine love transcending social boundaries. Like Mary and Elizabeth, Alexandra and Catherine have found the bond of their relationship, the strength in community, and the solidarity of those who understand that God’s love cannot be confined by patriarchal and heterosexual norms, or homophobic theology.
Their journey to parenthood, like Mary’s and Elizabeth’s, reminds us that God’s family often takes shape in unexpected ways.
The shaping of the church family is the best example as it goes beyond any societal norms and hierarchies. We are a family without any biological connections. Mary and Elizabeth’s solidarity prefigures our calling as a church – to be a place where all families can find the same understanding, support, and joy that these two women found in each other.
As we welcome Zara into the family of God through baptism today, we celebrate that God’s love, like water, flows freely, nourishing all it touches. Just as Elizabeth’s blessing of Mary affirmed God’s presence in an unexpected pregnancy, our blessing of this child and family today affirms that God’s grace knows no bounds. In this baptism, we join Mary and Elizabeth’s legacy of finding joy in solidarity, of celebrating God’s love wherever and however it manifests.
Let us therefore approach this baptism with the same joy that caused John to leap in Elizabeth’s womb – the joy of recognising God’s presence in places where society might least expect it, but where faith helps us see it most clearly. Amen.