The Solemnity of the Immaculate Conception

Lectionary: 689

Sing to the LORD a new song,

for he has done wondrous deeds;

His right hand has won victory for him,

his holy arm.

When Bernadette Soubirous asked the mysterious woman her name, she replied, "I am the Immaculate Conception." The girl's pastor had been insisting she should ask the vision, "Who are you?" But when he heard the response, the priest exclaimed, "That's impossible! No one is the Immaculate Conception!"

For him the doctrine was an ancient teaching, recently declared infallibly by Pope Pius IX in 1854. He would have been familiar with the news out of Rome though the young Bernadette was not. 

The Church taught that Mary was immaculately conceived; that is, free from the guilt of Original Sin since her conception. But that the doctrine might define someone's name and vocation, that it might describe who she is, was too much for the simple pastor. 

Even today, few have thought deeply about the doctrine. To them, it's a lovely brooch, stored away in a dresser, to be worn on special occasions; but of no particular significance, like a bit of paste your grandmother wore. 

Christmas would mean nothing without the Immaculate Conception. The yuletide marks the beginning of our salvation, when the Word of God was enfleshed and lived among us. Having witnessed his birth, death and resurrection, we realize that we cannot be saved except through our flesh which is his. Baptized and sharing the Eucharist, we are his risen body. If he could offer us no more than teachings, with an insistence that we agree with his doctrines, we would still retain the rebellious body that wants what it wants when it wants it. 

But, someone might ask, what if our "souls" were saved and not our bodies? Isn't that salvation?

Without my body I am neither male nor female, neither tall nor short; I have no history, no identity and no kinship with others. 

At the end of Shakespeare's Tempest, Prospero releases his fairy servant. 

My Ariel, chick,

That is thy charge: then to the elements

Be free, and fare thou well!

It seems an abrupt and rude ending to a delightful friendship but Ariel has demanded release since the first act. However, Ariel is only a spirit, a puff of wind; sometimes played by a female actor; and sometimes, by a male. Without Prospero, Ariel is like a kite without a string, having no anchor, home, or relationship to anything or anyone. Nothing more than an idea. Neither he nor she, Ariel has no pronoun in our English language. 

And, a moment later, the magician also begs for release from the magical island/stage where he has lived a fairy existence. 

As you from crimes would pardon'd be,

Let your indulgence set me free.

But you and I are not roles in a play and our loves are not virtual. Our existence is quite real; it is anchored in our bodies; each with its particular history of pleasures, pains, traumas and ecstasies; histories that did not begin the day we were born and will not end with our death. 

Our salvation begins with the birth of Jesus, which could not have happened without Mary's wholehearted willingness. God gives only the graces we're willing to receive; and because Mary was by her Immaculate Conception, ready to receive the infinite totality of God, she conceived by the Holy Spirit. Neither she nor any other child of Adam could be saved by anything less than the infinity of God. 

She received that Blessing and gave it to us with the simple command, "Do whatever he tells you;" namely, "Eat this bread... Drink this cup." 

This feast leads us more deeply into the penitential season of Advent, with its awareness of guilt and its promise of divine vindication. O come let us adore.