I sat down to write something else, but I kept thinking that I really ought to write something about Mary first. I made myself laugh when I wrote that because I only wrote three blogposts in December and two of them were about Mary and the third was about her mother and how it felt to be Mary's mother. But then, it's Mary's day.
I recently read elsewhere a comment about an article in a national magazine attacking Christianity. Well, of course. Every Christmas and Easter there is something--some archaeological "proof" that Jesus didn't exist or that He wasn't Who we think He is--some tale of the horrors perpetrated by Christians. And it's despicable and unfair, but then, it's just what we are told by the Scriptures to expect.
The real attack lies in this. If I let myself react and get upset by whatever outrage the media is pushing this year, then the enemy wins. I don't mean the magazine, or the writer, or the media in general, but The Enemy, the one who is behind it all, and who wants me to do anything during this holy season other than move deeper into the mystery of the Incarnation.
It's hard to imagine that the great Mother of God, Mary most holy, as we call her in the Divine Praises, spent the season of her Son's infancy railing at His opponents. I'm sure that she, like most mothers, spent most of her time intent on the face of her Son, and the Church has set aside these days to remind us to do the same.
That said, I'm not unaware that there are those whose job it is to speak the truth in public about all the disinformation (I am not one of those people.), but it's useless to try and combat evil with hatred, and hysteria and snark. Those who are called to this task will always have to remember that the goal is not to prevail over the other side of which we have become the mirror image, but to set captives free, the key being the love of Christ. This is a task which requires great humility and a constant awareness of our own sin. It is impossible without turning away from the distractions of the world and spending time with our mother, contemplating the beauty of Her Son.