The Assumption
There's something absolutely breathtaking about Mary's response when the angel Gabriel appeared to her. Here was a young woman who could have had every earthly plan and dream, yet when God called her, she didn't hesitate to say, "Let it be done unto me according to your word." Today, as we celebrate The Assumption of the Blessed Virgin Mary, we see the beautiful culmination of that same spirit of surrender. Mary, who gave everything to God in life, was taken up body and soul into heaven; a glimpse of the glory that awaits all who choose to follow Jesus with such radical unresisting trust.
When Mary hurried to visit her cousin Elizabeth, carrying Jesus within her womb, she prayed the magnificent prayer we call the Magnificat: "My soul proclaims the greatness of the Lord." But notice what she doesn't say. She doesn't talk about her own comfort, her own security, or her retirement plan of luxury. Instead, she rejoices that God "has scattered the proud in their conceit" and "has filled the hungry with good things but has sent the rich away empty." Mary understood something we often miss: that clinging to our stuff, to our status, our carefully constructed lives, actually makes us spiritually very poor. Real richness comes from having empty hands that God can fill. Think about it, the only way we can reach up to heaven with open arms is when we're not weighed down by attachments to this world. When we choose worldly securities over our Lord, we're not just missing out on blessings; we're choosing spiritual poverty over the riches of eternity.
This is where Mary's example cuts right to the heart of our modern struggles. We've built our lives around false securities, chasing financial stability as if money could save us, accumulating possessions as if they could fill the God-shaped hole in our hearts, and worst of all, becoming so focused on our own comfort that we walk past the poor, the dying, struggling family members, the lonely, the broken without even seeing them. These false securities don't just fail to deliver happiness; they actively blind us from eternity, where wealth is measured by our love and humility before God. When we're obsessed with our bank accounts, we can't see the treasure that Jesus offers. When our hearts are hardened by selfishness, we miss the very face of God in our suffering neighbors, and our selfish, pitiful existence becomes spiritually barren.
Mary shows us the devastating truth: a life built on earthly securities is actually a life that discards eternity. Think about it, every moment we spend worrying about our financial portfolio is a moment we're not trusting in God's providence. Every time we choose our comfort over showing compassion to someone in need, we're choosing the temporary over the eternal. We become like the rich man in Jesus' parable who feasted while Lazarus starved at his gate. The rich man didn't just miss an opportunity to help; he missed his own salvation. His wealth didn't damn him; his attachment to it did, because it made him incapable of loving anyone but himself.
But here's the beautiful truth Mary reveals to us on this feast of her Assumption: we don't have to choose the path that discards eternity. Her assumption into heaven isn't just about her; it's a promise for all of us who choose to follow Jesus instead of false securities. Mary understood that when we cling to money, possessions, and self-centered comfort, we're not just missing out on heaven someday; we're missing out on the abundant life right now. Real security comes from trusting in God's love. Real wealth comes from generous hearts that see Jesus in the poor and outcast. Real life comes from saying yes to God's purposes, even if we abandon our carefully constructed plans.
Mary's "yes" wasn't just a one-time decision; it was a daily choice to value eternity over earthly comfort, love over self-protection, trust over control. Her assumption shows us the end of that story: a life lived in complete surrender to Jesus leads to complete union with Him forever. That's the invitation He's extending to you right now, not to a life of deprivation, but to a life so rich in divine love and eternal purpose that the false securities of this world lose their grip on your heart. When we choose compassion over comfort, generosity over greed, and trust over financial anxiety, we're not just being nice; we're choosing eternity. Mary's "yes" changed the world. What might happen to your life if you said "yes" too?
©2025 James Dacey Jr.