Once again we gather on the feast day of the Protection of the Most-Pure Mother of God; once again we hear the Gospel reading, so familiar to us, which we know by heart, of the meeting of the two rejoicing mothers—Mary and Elizabeth, once again, together with the Most-Holy One we exclaim: “My soul magnifies the Lord, and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior,” and once again we joyfully “praise Her wonders.”
This is the miracle of Divine mercy, that it is so easy for our hearts to open for the singing of praises to the Theotokos, that not only do we not grow weary of these frequent celebrations of the Most-Pure, but that after every one of them we eagerly await the next one, and when the day comes, then the sheer numbers of you bear witness of our love for Her, “more honorable than the cherubim and more glorious without comparison than the seraphim.”
Today’s feast day has its special features which make it especially dear to us. The Most-Pure Mother of God extended Her omophorion over a city in distress, over a people who had no hope except for the Queen of Heaven; and She interceded. And from that distant historical fact, the Christian soul was given confidence that when there is no one to help, no consolation, no joy, when the heart is about to harbor the bitter notion that one is alone, forgotten and unneeded, it should be remembered that we have a good, merciful and empathetic Mother, Who sees our needs, Who hears our pleas and is always ready to help us, to support and console us; we should remember this, and with all our hearts appeal to Her, the Most-Pure and Most-Blessed, and weep to Her, and complain to Her about our fates—and then a miracle will occur: our sorrows will pass, and a quiet, endearing joy and reconciliation with the will of God then settles in our souls.
These spiritual experiences, sorrow followed by joy—are facts, are reality, are the truth. We know where sorrow comes from, whence it originates; we must know exactly where joy comes from, so that we do not view it as an incidental thing, which happens as our mood changes.
The Church helps us make sense of our souls, see the wellspring of joy. Today, She shows us in the kondakion that “Today, the virgin appears in the temple in a mystic way, and she is seen praying for us with all the saints.”
Can we be sorrowful, can we grieve in the place where the Queen of Heaven covers us with Her prayerful veil? Where people appeal to Her in prayer? Can we doubt Her unseen presence here, those of us who, two weeks ago, so palpably sensed the presence of grace and power and the movement of Divine grace in the church, when the Most-Pure Queen arrived through Her miracle-working icon, bringing joy to our souls? That was spiritual reality! It is repeated here now, and its strength lies wholly within us. If we clear our emotions, so that no earthly passions rule our hearts, then the joy of Christ, for the prayers of the Most-Holy Mother, will once again overcome us and serve as the source of spiritual consolation. Amen.
