Why did she do it? In an time when traveling was inherently dangerous – when being attacked by robbers or wild animals was more than a remote possibility – why did Mary suddenly decide to leave her home in Nazareth for a hillside village somewhere around Jerusalem? That was at least a sixty-five mile walk through some of the country’s most rugged terrain!

Had the gossip become so malicious that the risk of staying outweighed the dangers associated with leaving? Or, was it Joseph? Did he decide the situation had escalated to the point where something had to be done to protect his wife and unborn child? 

But then . . . well . . . it wasthe angel who told Mary that her relative Elizabeth – her much older and henceforth barren relative Elizabeth – was pregnant. And, come to think of it, the announcement had seemed a little out of place in the context of the current conversation.  Remember? The angel had been telling Mary all the wonderful things God had planned for her. Then, without so much as taking a breath, he said:  Oh, by the way, had you heard that Elizabeth is six months pregnant? Isn’t God great? So maybe it had been the angel’s plan for Mary to leave because he . . . and God . . . knew how difficult and dangerous the situation could become.

Poor Mary! She was so frightened when the angel Gabriel first came to her. He tried to be reassuring. He tried to tell her that he wasn’t there to harm her - that he really had been sent to tell her some great news . . . if, of course, she agreed. He didn’t lie. It was great news. It wasn’t long, however, before Mary discovered that even good news sometimes comes at a great cost.

That moment came when Joseph refused to believe her. He not only doubted that she could be the virgin that was foretold by the prophet Isaiah, he actually questioned her character and integrity. For one brief moment he had even considered accusing her of adultery and having her stoned to death! Although he quickly dismissed that idea in favor of a simple annulment, it took Gabriel, the same angel who had visited her, to convince him that she was, indeed, telling the truth.

But there would be no heavenly visits to the town folk or religious leaders. They were allowed to believe the worst. There was no angel to protect her from the day-to-day gossip and malicious behavior of those who knew her best . . . of those who should have understood. If Mary was to survive, what she needed was someone to talk to, someone who would listen and reassure her. It was then she remembered the angel’s words:  . . . had you heard that Elizabeth is six months pregnant? 

So, Mary left Nazareth and went to the one person who would understand. She went to the home of Elizabeth where she was greeted, not with suspicion and doubt, but with love, respect and hope.

They were such an unlikely pair! Elizabeth was old and had been married for so long she must have found it difficult to remember a time when she had not been the wife of a priest. Mary was young and not yet accustomed to being known as Joseph the carpenter’s wife. 

Elizabeth’s son would close an era. Mary’s son would usher in the new. Yet, as unlikely and unexpected as both of their pregnancies were, their hearts were open and because of that, they could see God in each other.

Mary and Elizabeth needed each other. And I can’t help but wonder if, in the years that followed, it was the memory of their time together that gave each of them the hope and the faith to continue on. Tradition tells us that, because of their advanced age, Elizabeth and Zachariah gave their young son to an isolated religious group known as the Eosins to raise.   When Elizabeth returned home with empty arms and a heart that was breaking, did she find comfort in remembering the time she shared with Mary?  When Mary found herself having the Messiah on a stable floor, did she feel the arms of Elizabeth around her? And later, as she stood helplessly at the foot of the cross watching her son die, did she hear Elizabeth whisper:  Blessed are you among women and blessed is the fruit of your womb?

Oh, Mary! There was no way that you could have known. But thank you, for because of you – because of your willingness to say “yes” without knowing what it would require or where it would send you – we have been given a chance to live again. May your courage . . . may your faith . . . may your concern and compassion for others be the example we choose to follow.

To God be the Glory!  Amen.