Today, December 8, the Church celebrates the Feast of the Immaculate Conception. I suspect that, if we were to take a poll, many people might say that the Immaculate Conception refers to Jesus’ conception; although a quick consideration of the timeline would suggest something is wrong with that.  We do, in fact, celebrate Jesus’ conception, or at least the announcement of it, on the Feast of the Annunciation on March 25. (We also celebrate Mary’s birth, appropriately nine months from now—a date on which several of us entered community).  The Immaculate Conception, of course, refers to Mary’s conception, as the daughter of Anne and Joachim, without sin. 

It does not help our confusion that the Gospel we read today is the story of the Annunciation—the announcement of Jesus’ conception.  In fact, there is no mention of Mary’s conception or her parentage anywhere in the Bible.  Mary is mentioned only in her role as the mother of Jesus and as one of his first disciples.  This used to bother me quite a bit.  Why, if Mary is such a significant example of feminine discipleship, did all of the Mary stories really seem to be about Jesus?  Then, one day it struck me, these stories seem to be about Jesus—which is to say about God—because they are about God.  Mary’s life, lived as it was, in submission to the will of God, directs us, not to herself, but to God.  She is, in this, the ultimate example of discipleship. 

I find the concept of submission—to anyone—a difficult one.  Like most American women my age, I was brought up to have my own thoughts and ideas and to assert them.  A submissive woman, one who followed someone else’s wishes, is a weak woman.  The example of Mary, though, turns that idea upside down.  Her submission—her “Fiat”--to the will of God almost certainly demanded more of her than would the life she might have chosen to live and she had no way of knowing what that life might look like.  Her acceptance meant pregnancy before marriage, with no guarantee that her husband-to-be would be willing to accept her as his wife and raise her son.  After she gave birth, it meant pondering the life of an infant to whom shepherds, and magi, paid homage at his birth and about whom Simeon and Anna prophesied in his first appearance in the temple.  Eventually, it meant watching her son suffer crucifixion and die. 

Mary’s “Fiat,” then, was not just a one time “yes” to a single act of God in her life, but an on-going acceptance of the will of God.  We, too, are called to this sort of submissiveness; with the understanding that a life lived in accordance with the will of God is not for the weak.  Accepting the will of God in our lives may well call forth far more from us than we ever expected.  Mary is our example of such a life; a demanding life, lived in accordance to God’s will for her.  In this way, she directs us toward God; may our lives do the same for others.