Assumption
Luke 1:39-56
Homily for 13 August 2006
Fr. Frank Baiocchi

When the house lights dim and the classical music program is about to begin, a mother returns to her seat discovers her child missing. At that moment, the stage curtains open, the audience hushes and a spotlight focuses on the grand piano. In shocked surprise, the mother stares at the piano, unable to believe what she sees: her little boy is at the piano playing the simple melody to “Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star….”

At the very same moment the great pianist Paderewski comes on stage. Moving quickly to the piano, he whispers in the boy’s ear, “Don’t quit! Keep playing!” Then leaning across the child, Paderewski reaches down with his left hand and begins filling in rich bass notes to accompany the boy’s simple melody. Then his right hand comes around to the child’s other side and plays a beautiful run in perfect rhythm and harmony with the boy’s efforts. Together, the old master and the young novice transform an embarrassing moment into a memorable experience. The audience is enthralled; and the only music people at that concert later recall is the amazing duet of master and child: “Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star.” Today we celebrate the feast of Mary’s Assumption. It’s good to honor Mary, but do we perhaps do her an injustice? We place her on a pedestal, alabaster statue, powder blue gown, carefully folded hands, piously tilted head. We burden her with a hundred titles of honor, but do we forget her ordinariness, her humanness? Poor Mary, quiet, reflective woman that she is, she may not appreciate all this attention, all these praises we heap on her! We might even imagine her exasperated one-word response: “Whatever!” to all our nonsense.

In her lifetime on earth, Mary plays a simple tune, like the boy at the piano. But as she plays, she is aware of the Master at work, the God-Spirit accompanying her. Listen closely to her music. You just heard her amazing Magnificat hymn in today’s Gospel: “I’m bursting with God-news,” she declares. “I’m dancing the song of my Savior God.” Her story is not all joyous, but it’s all deeply human! She’s in her teens, unmarried and pregnant; then while pregnant she travels a lengthy journey on a dangerous road. She gives birth to a boy child in a stable full of animals because she is too poor to pay lodging; as a young mother she is forced with her family to flee her beloved homeland and she becomes a refugee in Egypt; she has a difficult time understanding what her boy-child is about, and even loses him for awhile in Jerusalem’s great Temple; she becomes a widow at a relatively early age.

Her son grows into manhood, leaving her behind and making powerful enemies among political and religious leaders. Later, she suffers the horrific indignity of being an eyewitness to her son’s criminal-like death on a cross and finally has his dead, broken body laid on her lap. This is really heavy stuff. But through it all Mary plays her melody with God whispering in her ear, “Don’t quit! Keep playing!”

If Mary is to be our model, is this the way it’s to be with us? The music we play may sound ordinary, hardly noteworthy at all. Some people might even tell us to “Stop that! Stop playing!” But we keep on playing. Why? Because the Master Musician, urges us on. God is whispering in our ears: “Don’t quit, keep playing.” When God accompanies us, somehow our feeble efforts no longer seem feeble. Our lives become more meaningful than ever seemed possible. Our music becomes… well, heavenly! So no matter what difficulties we have, no matter what challenges we face, remember the words the Master is whispering in our ear: “Don’t quit! Keep playing!”