The Third Sunday
in Ordinary Time
(A)
Dear
brothers and sisters,
I
could not help but notice today a great ball of light moving across the sky. It
was, naturally, the sun, whom we do not see often enough in these winter
months. As I looked towards it with wonder and appreciation, I thought of one
of the verses we heard only a few moments ago: “The people who walked in
darkness have seen a great light; upon those who dwelt in the land of gloom a
light has shone” (Isaiah 9:1). This may not be an altogether incorrect
interpretation of this verse, but it is surely not the interpretation the
prophet had in mind.
Rather,
“according to Isaiah, the people who sinned sat in the shadow of death. For
these a light arose, not by the merits of their virtues, but by the grace of
God.”[1]
This great light that arose is, of course, Jesus Christ, who is called “the sun
of justice” and who calls himself “the bright morning star” and “the light of
the world” (Malachi 3:20; Revelation 22:16; John 8:12).
While
recognizing Jesus as the one true light, the Church has long looked to Mary as
another great light who, like the moon, reflects the light of her Son. Indeed,
the very name of Mary means “Star of the Sea.” Why?
If we reflect for a moment on the
nature of human life, we quickly realize that
Human life is a
journey. Towards what destination? How do we find the way? Life is like a
voyage on the sea of history, often dark and stormy, a voyage in which we watch
for the stars that indicate the route. The true stars of our life are the
people who have lived good lives. They are lights of hope. Certainly, Jesus
Christ is the true light, the sun that has risen above all the shadows of
history. But to reach him we also need lights close by — people who shine with
his light and so guide us along our way. Who more than Mary could be a star of
hope for us? With her “yes” she opened the door of our world to God himself;
she became the living Ark of the Covenant, in whom God took flesh, became one
of us, and pitched his tent among us (cf. John 1:14).[2]
The
Blessed Virgin Mary may be the brightest and clearest of these secondary
lights, but the light of the lives of the other saints also illumines the way
before us, the way that leads to Jesus Christ. It is he who shines the light of
his face upon the darkness of our sins. It is he who calls to repent of our sins
and reform our lives. And it is who desires that we so imitate him that we
might also be “the light of the world” (Matthew 5:14). This is why he tells us,
“Let your light so shine before me, that they may see your good works and give
glory to your Father who is in heaven” (Matthew 5:14, 16).
One
such light arose for us more than seventeen hundred years ago, our heavenly
patroness, Saint Agnes of Rome. While we do not know the precise year in which
she gave up her life for the One who gave his life for her (though it was about
the year 305), she was brought to trial on January 21st and martyred
on January 28th.
A
girl of great beauty, Saint Agnes was both a Roman citizen and a Christian who
lived during the persecution of the Emperor Diocletian. By the age of twelve,
she had already consecrated her virginity to Jesus Christ and refused numerous
offers of marriage because of her loving commitment to Jesus.
Brought before a
judge, she was interrogated then threatened with death by burning… Refusing to
serve the gods in the temple of Vesta, as ordered by the prefect, she was
exposed naked in a brothel as a final insult to her triumphant and enticing
virginity… Her radiant purity deterred all but the son of the prefect, who,
attempting to have his way with her, was struck blind but had his sight
restored by her forgiveness. .. Finally exasperated by her resistance, the
governor or prefect ordered her to be beheaded, and she was accordingly killed
in this way, in the Stadium of Domitian, known as the Circus Agonalis (now the Piazza Navona, dominated by the church of Sant’Agnese
in Agonia).[3]
Normally,
“childhood is computed in years, but in her immense wisdom she was old; she was
a child in body but already aged in spirit. Her face was beautiful, her faith
more beautiful.”[4]
If
we remember for a moment the ancient Roman adage of nomen est omen, that the name is a sign, we can see that
the name Agnes
comes from agna, because Agnes was as
meek and humble as a lamb. Or her name comes from the Greek word agnos, pious, because she was pious and
compassionate; or from agnoscendo,
knowing, because she knew the way of truth [which] is opposed to vanity and
falseness and doubting, all of which she avoided by the virtue of truth that
was hers.[5]
In
all of these features of her life, we can look to the light of Saint Agnes and
see the way to heavenly glory.
The
faithful and courageous witness of Saint Agnes is especially striking if we
remember that she shed her blood for Jesus when she was only twelve. Typically,
as Saint Ambrose says, young girls of that age “are unable to bear even the
angry looks of parents, and are wont to cry at the prick of a needle as though they
were wounds.” Saint Agnes, though, “was fearless under the cruel hands of the
executioners”[6]
because, as she said to the man who attempted to force himself upon her:
The one I love
is far nobler than you, of more eminent descent. His mother is a virgin, his
father knows no woman, he is served by angels; the sun and moon wonder at his
beauty; his wealth never lacks or lessens; his perfume brings the dead to life,
his touch strengthens the feeble, his love is chastity itself, his touch
holiness, union with him, virginity.[7]
Is
our faith strong enough to say something similar?
If
you and I, dear brothers and sisters, look to Saint Agnes and entrust ourselves
to her intercession, she can help us to become like lights shining in the darkness
of this world. More than living a merely good life, she can teach us how to live
a life of heroic virtue.
The
example of Saint Agnes is particularly poignant today. How many people value others
only because of physical beauty? How many people fail to recognize their own dignity
and misuse and abuse their bodies for momentary pleasure? In the midst of the darkness
of this hedonism, the light of Saint Agnes’ chastity and fidelity shines brightly
before us and upon us. Let us, then, look to her, who, “disdaining the
advantages of noble birth, merited heavenly honors; caring nothing for what
human society desires, she won the society of the eternal king; accepting a precious
death for professing Christ, she at the same time was conformed to his
likeness.”[8]
May she show us how to be meek and humble,
to be pious and compassionate, and to oppose vanity, falsehood, and doubt. By imitating
her, may we be found faithful lambs of the Good Shepherd and counted among his flock.
Amen.
[1] Saint Ambrose of Milan, On Paradise, 5.29. In Ancient Christian Commentary on Scripture,
Old Testament Vol. X: Isaiah 1-39. Steven A. McKinion, et al, eds. (Downers Grove, Illinois: Inter Varsity Press, 2004),
70.
[2] Benedict XVI, Spe salvi¸ 49.
[3] Paul Burns, ed., Butler’s Lives of the Saints, New Full
Edition: January (Collegeville, Minnesota: The Liturgical Press, 1998),
146.
[4] Jacobus de Voragine, The Golden Legend: Readings on the Saints,
Vol. 1. William Granger Ryan, trans. (Princeton, New Jersey: Princeton
University Press, 1993), 102.
[5] Ibid., 101.
[6] Saint Ambrose of Milan, Three Books Concerning Virgins, II.7.
[7] Saint Agnes of Rome, in Jacobus de
Voragine, The Golden Legend, 102.
[8] Saint Ambrose of Milan, Preface
of Saint Agnes. In Jacobus de Voragine,
The Golden Legend, 104.
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