Monthly Marian Mass
Dear sisters and brothers,
What do we know for certain about Jesus? Only this: that he lived—and that he was crucified. That is the hard, sober finding of history. And yet we profess him as the Christ, the crucified and risen one. What does that mean?
The Gospel is not a historical account. It does not recount facts in the modern sense, but rather comes to us as a call—as God's call to our existence. The Christ of faith is not an object of research, but a reality that is revealed to us through hearing and faith.
Mary, the mother of Jesus, also appears in the Gospel—at the cross, silent, steadfast. What is decisive for us is not whether she was actually there or not, but what her image says to us today. She does not flee. She remains. She becomes a witness—not through knowledge, but through faithfulness.
The crucified one is not a figure of the past. In his proclamation, he encounters us today—as the one who challenges us, who calls us to see our lives anew. The cross is not only a sign of suffering, but a sign of the truth about human beings: that true life does not consist in holding on, but in letting go. Not in self-protection, but in self-giving.
The resurrection of Jesus is an expression of the fact that the crucified one did not remain in death, but that God revealed himself in him – and that this call reaches us today. Those who open themselves to him are resurrected in their deepest being. Those who believe in the Gospel become free – not because fear, death, or selfishness disappear, but because they no longer have power over us. Free to receive life without holding on to it. Free to give ourselves without losing ourselves. Free to hope – even in darkness. Those who believe trust: my life is not lost. What I have lived in love, in faith, in struggle, becomes part of something greater. Who I am, my whole being, becomes part of God's history with us human beings. And that is why my life has meaning – even beyond death.
When the disciples said, “He is risen!” they were saying, “He has met us. He lives in the message. God has revealed himself through him.” They recognized that death does not have the last word. Jesus' message—of devotion, love, truth—lives on. And it transforms those who hear it.
Mary stands beneath the cross—not as a heroine, but as a listener. She is an image for us: that it is possible to remain. Possible not to avoid the cross. Possible to let oneself be called—even in the midst of darkness.
Therefore: Do not fear the cross. Do not fear the truth. Christ's call is for you—today. And whoever hears it is already risen. Not visibly. Not spectacularly. But truly.
And he encounters us not only in words, but also in signs: in the Eucharist we celebrate today, Christ's call comes to us in the flesh – as visible words – as a visible call. It is not a magical act, but a concrete invitation to interpret our lives in the light of his cross and his love – and to begin anew.
In this call, in the message that strikes us, Mary stands with us—not as a mediator beside Christ, but as the first of those who hear, as an image of our sister in faith. In her silence we recognize the human yes to the unattainable. In the message, she appears as an image of faith that does not break in the darkness. In her, we see what it means to receive the Word: not to understand with the mind, but to believe with the heart. Those who listen to Christ can say with Mary: Let it be done to me—even under the cross.
Amen.
