E Hiki Mai Kou Aupuni
Here is the prepared text of the homily delivered Aug. 22 at St. Theresa Church, Kihei, on the feast of the queenship of the Blessed Virgin Mary, as part of Bishop Castori’s Mass of Thanksgiving Island Tour.
As I mentioned when we gathered at the opening of this holy Mass, it is especially fitting that this Mass of thanksgiving falls on the feast of the queenship of the Blessed Virgin Mary.
Yesterday evening, at the Mass of rededication of Maria Lanakila Church, “Our Lady of Victory,” in Lahaina, we gave thanks for the Blessed Mother’s intercession in saving “the miracle church” from the destructive wildfire of three years ago, so that that beautiful house of God could serve as a sacred space in which to gather prayers and relief efforts as rescue operations were conducted, and gave further thanks for her continued intercession for and closeness to the resilient people of Lahaina and Maui to this day.
That the patron of our diocese, Our Lady of Peace, is “Queen of Heaven and Earth” is something to be mightily grateful for. And, indeed, to understand and take to heart this gift of Mary’s queenship strengthens our hope, joy and commitment in living our faith.
Now when we speak of the Blessed Virgin Mary as “Queen of Heaven and Earth,” “Queen of Peace” or “Queen of Angels,” it is important to realize that we are not simply using an expression or metaphor; the Blessed Mother of God is literally invested with royal dignity. And to grasp this truth, it is helpful at least once a year, on this feast, to remind ourselves of how the queenship of Mary was revealed to the church from the beginning.
It is really quite simple. There were in Judah special protocols and a special title reserved for the mother of a king of David’s dynasty. There was even a Hebrew word used specifically for the queen mother in Judah. We may recall from the Book of Kings that when the mother of King Solomon visited him in order to make a personal appeal to him, a throne was set up for her to sit on beside her son.
And so, centuries later, when Jesus was acclaimed by the crowds, “Messiah,” which means, “anointed,” “son of David,” it was understood that his mother, too, was of royal stature. And when, in the wake of his glorious ascension into heaven, Christ was acknowledged by the Church to be sovereign king, “pantokrator,” which means “ruler of all,” so was his blessed mother deemed queen of heaven and earth.
But why should the royal title of the mother of God be cause for our gratitude and rejoicing now?
Well, to begin with, by virtue of her exalted status in heaven, she is the saint who intercedes for us with unmatched power. This is certainly true. And yet there is something else, something further, about Mary’s queenship that I believe may touch our hearts at least as much.
That “something further” is revealed in the Gospel passage that we have just heard proclaimed, that of the Annunciation, when the angel Gabriel greeted Mary and announced that she was to be the mother of the Messiah.
In short, Gabriel brought the Blessed Virgin Mary two pieces of news: she would conceive a child (through the overshadowing of the Holy Spirit) who would be “the son of the Most High,” given “the throne of David” and who would “rule over the house of Jacob forever.” So a birth and a throne.
And what is so striking is that, while the Blessed Mother comments on the birth — asking how this could be, since she has “no relations with a man” — she says nothing about the royal throne that is assured to her and her son. She does not deny the honor, but neither does she exalt in it. Rather, when she later visits her cousin Elizabeth, she exalts only God: “He has mercy on those who fear him; he has shown the strength of his arm; he has filled the hungry with good things.”
She is, after all, the mother of Jesus, who taught, “whoever exalts himself will be humbled, but whoever humbles himself will be exalted.”
This is the first sign we are given that the queenship of Mary will not serve to separate her from, but rather to draw her wondrously close to us — to us, who, if you will, are commoners in God’s realm. So both by what she says and by what she does not say, she puts no space between her and her people.
To see how this plays out even over the centuries, think for a moment of St. Juan Diego, the Aztec peasant to whom our lady appeared in a vision at Guadalupe, Tepeyac, Mexico, in 1531, and who was quick to recognize her noble and royal dignity.
When he saw her, Juan Diego humbly said, “I am a nobody… Please excuse me, my queen and my lady, I do not want to make your heart heavy.” And to this, she replied:
“Littlest of my sons, let nothing frighten you, nothing trouble you… Am I not here, I who am your mother? Are you not under my shadow and protection? Am I not the source of your joy? Are you not in the hollow of my mantle? Do not be grieved or disturbed by anything.”
Most tellingly, the mother of God spoke these words to Juan Diego not in Spanish (the language of the conquistadors), nor even in Latin (the language of the universal church), but rather in Nahuatl, his native tongue, revealing that he was indeed somebody, and somebody whose life she shared.
I believe we in the Pacific are especially blessed and aided in our appreciation of this because we have a wonderful legacy, even in modern times, of beloved queens of Oceania who devoted themselves and their reign to the preservation and perpetuation of the cultures of their people, even when it entailed sacrifice and suffering on their own part, because they understood and exercised their queenship, not in distancing themselves from, but rather in intimacy with their people.
This blessed legacy teaches us that, when you experience such intimacy with the sovereign, there is nothing quite like it.
Moreover, the Blessed Virgin Mother’s very closeness to us reminds us that, by virtue of our baptism, each of us is anointed by the Church with an expression of royal dignity, “priest, prophet and king.” The fathers of the Second Vatican Council explained that, by such anointing, we are graced to direct our earthly activities to the service of the kingdom of God. And to this end, the mother of God intercedes for us.
And so, dear brothers and sisters, at those times when the thought of building God’s reign in our midst seems too grand; at those times when we feel we are too small, barely just doing our job and taking care of our family; and even — and especially — at those times when we are beset by challenges and loss, we need only remind ourselves that she who is enthroned in the kingdom of heaven is mother to us, enfolding us in her mantle as she enfolded St. Juan Diego, who, in his humility and by her direction, was able to do great things for God.
In the light of her unfailing closeness to us, may we ourselves not fail to give thanks for and rejoice in what is assured us of the Queen of Heaven: that never was it known that anyone who fled to her protection, implored her help, or sought her intercession was left unaided.