About Today
Wednesday 25 March 2026
The Annunciation of the Lord
Solemnity
The Word was made flesh; come, let us adore him.
Year: A(II). Liturgical Colour: White.
What if she had said No?
The question may strike you as irreverent. How dare I suggest that the Blessed Virgin Mary, Queen of Heaven, Tower of David, and all the other titles, could have left us in the lurch like that?
But what if she had?
Could she have said No? You might say that of course she couldn’t, she was far too holy — but you would be guilty of demeaning and dangerous sentimentality. It is demeaning because it turns Our Lady from a free human being into a sanctified automaton. The whole glory of the Annunciation is that Mary, the second Eve, could have said No to God but she said Yes instead. That is what we celebrate, that is what we praise her for; and rightly so.
This sentimental view is dangerous too. If we believe that the most important decision in the history of the world was in fact inevitable, that it couldn’t have been otherwise, then that means it was effortless. Now we have a marvellous excuse for laziness. Next time we’re faced with a tough moral decision, we needn’t worry about doing what is right. Just drift, and God will make sure that whatever choice we make is the right one. If God really wants us to do something he’ll sweep us off our feet the way he did Mary, and if he chooses not to, it’s hardly our fault, is it?
So Mary could have said No to Gabriel. What if she had? He couldn’t just go and ask someone else, like some sort of charity collector. With all the genealogies and prophecies in the Bible, there was only one candidate. It’s an alarming thought. Ultimately, of course, God would have done something: the history of salvation is the history of him never abandoning his people however pig-headed they were. But God has chosen to work through human history. If the first attempt at redemption took four thousand years to prepare, from the Fall to the Annunciation, how many tens of thousands of years would the next attempt have taken?
Even if the world sometimes makes us feel like cogs in a machine, each of us is unique and each of us is here for a purpose: just because it isn’t as spectacular a purpose as Mary’s, it doesn’t mean that it doesn’t exist. When we fail to seek our vocation, or put off fulfilling some part of it, we try to justify ourselves by saying that someone else will do it better, that God will provide, that it doesn’t really matter. But we are lying. However small a part I have to play, the story of the Annunciation tells me it is my part and no-one else can do it.
Faced with the enormity of her choice, how was Mary able to decide? If she said No, unredeemed generations would toil on under the burden of sin. If she said Yes, she herself would suffer, and so would her Son; but both would be glorified. Millions of people not yet born would have Heaven open to them; but millions of others would suffer oppression and death in her son’s name. The stakes were almost infinite.
You might say that Mary didn’t worry about all this, just obeyed God; but I don’t believe it. What God wanted was not Mary’s unthinking obedience but her full and informed consent as the representative of the entire human race. The two greatest miracles of the Annunciation are these: that God gave Mary the wisdom to know the consequences of her decision, and that he gave her the grace not to be overwhelmed by that knowledge.
When we come to an important decision in our lives, we can easily find our minds clouded by the possible consequences, or, even more, by partial knowledge of them. How can we ever move, when there is so much good and evil whichever way we go? The Annunciation gives us the answer. God’s grace will give us the strength to move, even if the fate of the whole world is hanging in the balance. After all, God does not demand that our decisions should be the correct ones (assuming that there even is such a thing), only that they should be rightly made.
There is one more truth that the Annunciation teaches us, and it is so appalling that I can think of nothing uplifting to say about it that will take the sting away: perhaps it is best forgotten, because it tells us more about God than we are able to understand. The Almighty Father creates heaven and earth, the sun and all the stars; but when he really wants something done, he comes, the Omnipotent and Omniscient, to one of his poor, weak creatures — and he asks.
And, day by day, he keeps on asking us.
Solemnity of The Annunciation of the Lord
Today's gospel reading
Luke 1:26-38
The angel Gabriel was sent by God to a town in Galilee called Nazareth, to a virgin betrothed to a man whose named Joseph, of the House of David; and the virgin’s name was Mary. He went in and he came and said to her, 'Rejoyce, so highly favored! ‘The Lord is with you' She was deeply disturbed by these words and ask herself what this greeting could mean, but the angel said to her, ‘Mary, Do not be afraid; you have won God's favour. Listen! You behold, you are to conceive and bear a son, and you must name him Jesus. He will be great and will be called the Son of the Most High.The Lord God The Lord God will give to him the throne of his ancestor David; he will rule over the house of Jacob for ever, and his reign will be no end.’
Mary said to the angel, ‘But how will come about, since I am a virgin?’ ‘The Holy Spirit will come upon you,' the angel answered,' and the power of the Most High will cover you with its shadow. And so the child will be holy and the Son of God. Know this your kinswomsn Elizabeth has, in her old age, herself conceived a son, and she whom people called barren.is now in her sixth month, for nothing will be impossible with God.’ I am the handmaid of the Lord,' let what you said be done to me.' And the angel left her.
Reflection on the painting
In yesterday’s Gospel we heard the Pharisees ask Jesus a direct question: “Who are you?” Today, on the solemnity of the Annunciation, we encounter another direct question, this time asked by Mary. When the angel announces that she will bear the Son of God, Mary responds in a very human way: “How can this be?” It is a question that echoes throughout the Scriptures. When Jesus stood with His disciples before a hungry crowd in the wilderness, they too asked, “How can we feed all these people here in the desert?” Whenever we face something that seems beyond our strength or understanding, we often find ourselves asking the same question: How will this be possible? How will I manage this? How can this be?
The angel Gabriel’s answer gently shifts Mary’s attention away from her own limitations and towards God’s power: “The Holy Spirit will come upon you, and the power of the Most High will overshadow you.” Mary is being invited to take part in something extraordinary, something that will reshape her entire life. Yet she is not asked to rely solely on her own strength. God’s grace will sustain her. And with that trust, Mary gives her beautiful response: “Let it be done to me according to your word.” For this reason, the Church has long seen Mary as the model disciple: someone who trusts that God can work through human weakness. The question “How can this be?” does not have to paralyse us; like Mary, it can become the doorway through which the Holy Spirit begins to work in our lives.
Yesterday we reflected on a painting by Fra Angelico, an artist who stands at the very beginning of the Renaissance. Today’s painting, created some sixty years later, shows us how rapidly the Renaissance had developed. The Annunciation by Piermatteo d’Amelia, depicts a world that is fully Renaissance: a carefully constructed space, elegant architecture, and a new fascination with perspective and the geometry of vision. The tiled floor and the strong lines of perspective lead us toward a central doorway, opening onto a soft landscape of hills in the distance. Then we see the archangel Gabriel on the left gazing toward the Virgin Mary on the right. Between Gabriel and Mary we see the traditional symbols of the Annunciation: the white lilies, signs of purity, and above them the descending dove, representing the Holy Spirit.
This painting was originally created for the main altar of a Franciscan church in Amelia, a small town in Umbria near Spoleto. For many years scholars were unsure who painted it, referring to the anonymous artist simply as the “Master of the Gardner Annunciation.” Only later did documents reveal that the painter was Piermatteo d’Amelia, a pupil and assistant of Filippo Lippi, one of the important figures of the Florentine Renaissance. Wonderful that such discoveries are still being made nowadays.
The Annunciation,
Painting by Piermatteo d'Amelia (circa 1450-1508),
Painted circa 1487,
Tempera on panel
© The Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum, Boston
The Annunciation of the Lord
Solemnity
The Word was made flesh; come, let us adore him.
Year: A(II). Liturgical Colour: White.
What if she had said No?
The question may strike you as irreverent. How dare I suggest that the Blessed Virgin Mary, Queen of Heaven, Tower of David, and all the other titles, could have left us in the lurch like that?
But what if she had?
Could she have said No? You might say that of course she couldn’t, she was far too holy — but you would be guilty of demeaning and dangerous sentimentality. It is demeaning because it turns Our Lady from a free human being into a sanctified automaton. The whole glory of the Annunciation is that Mary, the second Eve, could have said No to God but she said Yes instead. That is what we celebrate, that is what we praise her for; and rightly so.
This sentimental view is dangerous too. If we believe that the most important decision in the history of the world was in fact inevitable, that it couldn’t have been otherwise, then that means it was effortless. Now we have a marvellous excuse for laziness. Next time we’re faced with a tough moral decision, we needn’t worry about doing what is right. Just drift, and God will make sure that whatever choice we make is the right one. If God really wants us to do something he’ll sweep us off our feet the way he did Mary, and if he chooses not to, it’s hardly our fault, is it?
So Mary could have said No to Gabriel. What if she had? He couldn’t just go and ask someone else, like some sort of charity collector. With all the genealogies and prophecies in the Bible, there was only one candidate. It’s an alarming thought. Ultimately, of course, God would have done something: the history of salvation is the history of him never abandoning his people however pig-headed they were. But God has chosen to work through human history. If the first attempt at redemption took four thousand years to prepare, from the Fall to the Annunciation, how many tens of thousands of years would the next attempt have taken?
Even if the world sometimes makes us feel like cogs in a machine, each of us is unique and each of us is here for a purpose: just because it isn’t as spectacular a purpose as Mary’s, it doesn’t mean that it doesn’t exist. When we fail to seek our vocation, or put off fulfilling some part of it, we try to justify ourselves by saying that someone else will do it better, that God will provide, that it doesn’t really matter. But we are lying. However small a part I have to play, the story of the Annunciation tells me it is my part and no-one else can do it.
Faced with the enormity of her choice, how was Mary able to decide? If she said No, unredeemed generations would toil on under the burden of sin. If she said Yes, she herself would suffer, and so would her Son; but both would be glorified. Millions of people not yet born would have Heaven open to them; but millions of others would suffer oppression and death in her son’s name. The stakes were almost infinite.
You might say that Mary didn’t worry about all this, just obeyed God; but I don’t believe it. What God wanted was not Mary’s unthinking obedience but her full and informed consent as the representative of the entire human race. The two greatest miracles of the Annunciation are these: that God gave Mary the wisdom to know the consequences of her decision, and that he gave her the grace not to be overwhelmed by that knowledge.
When we come to an important decision in our lives, we can easily find our minds clouded by the possible consequences, or, even more, by partial knowledge of them. How can we ever move, when there is so much good and evil whichever way we go? The Annunciation gives us the answer. God’s grace will give us the strength to move, even if the fate of the whole world is hanging in the balance. After all, God does not demand that our decisions should be the correct ones (assuming that there even is such a thing), only that they should be rightly made.
There is one more truth that the Annunciation teaches us, and it is so appalling that I can think of nothing uplifting to say about it that will take the sting away: perhaps it is best forgotten, because it tells us more about God than we are able to understand. The Almighty Father creates heaven and earth, the sun and all the stars; but when he really wants something done, he comes, the Omnipotent and Omniscient, to one of his poor, weak creatures — and he asks.
And, day by day, he keeps on asking us.
Solemnity of The Annunciation of the Lord
Today's gospel reading
Luke 1:26-38
The angel Gabriel was sent by God to a town in Galilee called Nazareth, to a virgin betrothed to a man whose named Joseph, of the House of David; and the virgin’s name was Mary. He went in and he came and said to her, 'Rejoyce, so highly favored! ‘The Lord is with you' She was deeply disturbed by these words and ask herself what this greeting could mean, but the angel said to her, ‘Mary, Do not be afraid; you have won God's favour. Listen! You behold, you are to conceive and bear a son, and you must name him Jesus. He will be great and will be called the Son of the Most High.The Lord God The Lord God will give to him the throne of his ancestor David; he will rule over the house of Jacob for ever, and his reign will be no end.’
Mary said to the angel, ‘But how will come about, since I am a virgin?’ ‘The Holy Spirit will come upon you,' the angel answered,' and the power of the Most High will cover you with its shadow. And so the child will be holy and the Son of God. Know this your kinswomsn Elizabeth has, in her old age, herself conceived a son, and she whom people called barren.is now in her sixth month, for nothing will be impossible with God.’ I am the handmaid of the Lord,' let what you said be done to me.' And the angel left her.
Reflection on the painting
In yesterday’s Gospel we heard the Pharisees ask Jesus a direct question: “Who are you?” Today, on the solemnity of the Annunciation, we encounter another direct question, this time asked by Mary. When the angel announces that she will bear the Son of God, Mary responds in a very human way: “How can this be?” It is a question that echoes throughout the Scriptures. When Jesus stood with His disciples before a hungry crowd in the wilderness, they too asked, “How can we feed all these people here in the desert?” Whenever we face something that seems beyond our strength or understanding, we often find ourselves asking the same question: How will this be possible? How will I manage this? How can this be?
The angel Gabriel’s answer gently shifts Mary’s attention away from her own limitations and towards God’s power: “The Holy Spirit will come upon you, and the power of the Most High will overshadow you.” Mary is being invited to take part in something extraordinary, something that will reshape her entire life. Yet she is not asked to rely solely on her own strength. God’s grace will sustain her. And with that trust, Mary gives her beautiful response: “Let it be done to me according to your word.” For this reason, the Church has long seen Mary as the model disciple: someone who trusts that God can work through human weakness. The question “How can this be?” does not have to paralyse us; like Mary, it can become the doorway through which the Holy Spirit begins to work in our lives.
Yesterday we reflected on a painting by Fra Angelico, an artist who stands at the very beginning of the Renaissance. Today’s painting, created some sixty years later, shows us how rapidly the Renaissance had developed. The Annunciation by Piermatteo d’Amelia, depicts a world that is fully Renaissance: a carefully constructed space, elegant architecture, and a new fascination with perspective and the geometry of vision. The tiled floor and the strong lines of perspective lead us toward a central doorway, opening onto a soft landscape of hills in the distance. Then we see the archangel Gabriel on the left gazing toward the Virgin Mary on the right. Between Gabriel and Mary we see the traditional symbols of the Annunciation: the white lilies, signs of purity, and above them the descending dove, representing the Holy Spirit.
This painting was originally created for the main altar of a Franciscan church in Amelia, a small town in Umbria near Spoleto. For many years scholars were unsure who painted it, referring to the anonymous artist simply as the “Master of the Gardner Annunciation.” Only later did documents reveal that the painter was Piermatteo d’Amelia, a pupil and assistant of Filippo Lippi, one of the important figures of the Florentine Renaissance. Wonderful that such discoveries are still being made nowadays.
The Annunciation,
Painting by Piermatteo d'Amelia (circa 1450-1508),
Painted circa 1487,
Tempera on panel
© The Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum, Boston