My brothers and sisters, there's something I want us to really think about today. When we hear the story of the Annunciation - this moment when the angel Gabriel comes to Mary - we often focus on the miraculous nature of what's happening. And rightfully so. But I think we sometimes miss something equally important: Mary's very human response to what God is asking of her.
Look at what happens in this passage. The angel appears and says, "Hail, favored one! The Lord is with you." And what's Mary's reaction? She's "greatly troubled." The Greek word there suggests she was deeply disturbed, trying to figure out what this greeting could possibly mean. She wasn't immediately peaceful. She wasn't instantly serene. She was troubled.
And then comes the announcement itself - that she's going to conceive and bear a son, that he'll be called the Son of the Most High, that his kingdom will have no end. Extraordinary promises. World-changing promises. And Mary asks a perfectly reasonable question: "How can this be, since I have no relations with a man?"
Now, I want us to sit with that question for a moment. Mary isn't doubting God's power. She's asking a real, practical question about how this is going to work in her actual life. She's engaged to Joseph. She knows how babies are made. She knows what people will think. She's asking, "How is this going to happen?"
And here's what strikes me: God doesn't rebuke her for asking. The angel doesn't say, "Mary, just trust and don't ask questions." Instead, Gabriel gives her an explanation. He tells her about the Holy Spirit, about the power of the Most High overshadowing her. He even gives her a sign - her elderly cousin Elizabeth is also pregnant. God honors her question. God respects her need to understand.
And then comes that moment - that beautiful, world-changing moment. "Behold, I am the handmaid of the Lord. May it be done to me according to your word." Her "yes." Her "fiat."
But let's not romanticize this too much. Mary's yes wasn't given in a vacuum. She knew what this could mean. She lived in a small town where everyone knew everyone else's business. She was engaged to Joseph, and suddenly she's going to be pregnant before their marriage is complete. She could face shame, rejection, even death by stoning according to the law. Her yes was going to cost her something.
Yet she trusted. She surrendered. She said yes to God's plan even when she couldn't see the whole picture.
Now, fast forward nearly fifteen hundred years to December 1531, to a hill called Tepeyac just outside what's now Mexico City. And here's where we see something remarkable - Mary appears again, but this time to Juan Diego, an indigenous peasant who had recently converted to Christianity.
Think about the context for a moment. Mexico had been conquered by the Spanish just ten years earlier. The indigenous people had seen their world turned upside down - their culture suppressed, their temples destroyed, their people decimated by disease and violence. Many had been baptized, but it was often forced or done out of fear. The faith hadn't really taken root in their hearts because it came wrapped in the violence of conquest.
And who does Mary choose to appear to? Not the Spanish archbishop. Not the powerful conquistadors. Not the educated theologians who had come from Europe. She appears to Juan Diego - someone the world considered insignificant, someone who was struggling to survive in a society that had been torn apart.
You see the pattern here? It's the same pattern we see in today's Gospel. God consistently chooses the unlikely, the overlooked, the ordinary. Mary herself was an unlikely choice - a young woman from Nazareth, a town so insignificant that people asked, "Can anything good come from Nazareth?" And now she appears to another unlikely person, Juan Diego, to do something extraordinary.
But here's what I find most beautiful about the Guadalupe story. When Mary appears to Juan Diego, she doesn't speak to him in Spanish, the language of power and conquest. She speaks to him in Náhuatl, his own language. She appears with indigenous features. She wears the clothing of an Aztec princess but with symbols that the indigenous people could read and understand - symbols that told them about the Gospel, about Christ, about the faith in ways that made sense to their culture.
Mary met Juan Diego where he was. She honored his culture, his language, his way of seeing the world. And through him, she brought millions of indigenous people to faith in her Son - not through force or fear, but through love and respect.
What does this mean for us today? I think it means that God is still choosing unlikely people to do extraordinary things. God is still speaking to us in ways we can understand, meeting us where we are, honoring who we are.
Mary's yes at the Annunciation wasn't just a one-time event. It was the beginning of a life of saying yes to God, even when it was difficult, even when it was costly. And her appearance to Juan Diego shows us that she continues to say yes to God's work in the world, continues to reach out to those who are marginalized and forgotten, continues to bring people to her Son.
So here's my question for us today: What is God asking us to say yes to? Maybe it's something big - a major life change, a difficult decision, a call to serve in a new way. Or maybe it's something that seems small but is actually profound - being more patient with a difficult family member, reaching out to someone who's lonely, standing up for someone who's being treated unjustly.
Whatever it is, I think Mary's example teaches us something important. We don't have to have all the answers before we say yes. We don't have to see the whole picture. We don't have to pretend we're not troubled or uncertain. Mary was troubled. Mary asked questions. But in the end, she trusted. She surrendered. She said yes.
And when we say yes to God - even when we're uncertain, even when we're afraid, even when we can't see how it's all going to work out - God honors that yes. God works through that yes. God does extraordinary things through ordinary people who are willing to trust.
Lord, I pray for all my Sonshine Friends, help us to say yes to God as Our Lady of Guadaloupe did. Help us to trust when we cannot see. Help us to be instruments of God's love in a world that desperately needs it.













