God’s Promise For the Future: The Immaculate Conception

December 11, 2023

Paulist Fr. Rich Andre preached this homily for the Solemnity of the Immaculate Conception of the Blessed Virgin Mary on December 8, 2023 at The Paulist Center in Boston, MA. The homily is based on the day’s readings: PGenesis 3:9-15, 20; Psalm 98; Ephesians 1:3-6, 11-12; and Luke 1:26-38.

This is the patronal feast day of the United States! Despite our gospel telling us about about Jesus’ conception, today we celebrate that Mary herself was conceived without sin. This raises two questions. First, why isn’t Mary’s Immaculate Conception recorded in the Bible? The answer is: why would it be? No book of the New Testament was written for the purpose of teaching us about Mary.  The gospels were written to explain who Jesus is. Luke writes about Mary to show us how she is the model Christian.

The second question: Why is this the patronal feast day of the United States? A friend of mine gave me a new explanation a few years ago: the United States is the country of second chances, and the Immaculate Conception celebrates a second chance for the human race. Our first reading is of how we, as humans, messed up that “first chance.”

But like most solemnities of the Church, the key to its significance can be found in the second reading. Ephesians explains that all of us – like Mary – were “chose[n]… before the foundation of the world, to be holy and without blemish.”

Let us celebrate that our God is a God of second chances, always ready to extend mercy to us.

Lord Jesus, you are the plan by which all creation will reach its fulfillment….

Christ Jesus, your mother whole-heartedly accepted her role in that plan….

Lord Jesus, your Holy Spirit strengthens us to accept our destiny with God….


When I was in the seminary in Washington, DC, I lived down the street from the Shrine of the National Basilica of the Immaculate Conception. It’s among the largest churches in the world, and it’s very unusual looking. As one of my Paulist brothers has said, “You look at it, and you immediately think: ‘This must have been designed by a committee.’ ” It is a mishmash of styles. It has a spire, an arch, and a dome, and over 80 side chapels that celebrate different ethnic groups in the United States: Native Americans, as well as those who came here as immigrants, as refugees, or as enslaved people. Many of my friends who visited me were unimpressed: “Why can’t it be more beautiful?” they would ask. They didn’t like the clash of styles.

If the National Shrine is supposed to be a church for all Catholics of the United States, I think it’s appropriate that the architecture itself speaks of diversity. It celebrates the universal, diverse nature of the American Church. Our church was built up by poor, simple people who traveled long distances and had great faith.

And when I think about humble people of great faith, especially on December 8, I think of my paternal grandmother, whose birthday was today. She died before I was three, but she holds a special place for me. More than anyone else I knew, she was the quintessential American immigrant. She came here not knowing anyone except for my grandfather, whom I don’t think she knew that well, either. He was a young man from a neighboring village who came back to Europe to find a wife. But my grandmother came here from a village of less than 900 people in the recently fractured Austro-Hungarian Empire, and with only a first-grade education, she eventually learned to communicate in seven different languages. She worked hard, both as a “day worker” cleaning other people’s houses, but also in her legendary, over-the-top hospitality. Her love and devotion to her family was obvious to anyone who met her.

Is it any wonder that Mary of the Immaculate Conception is the patron saint of the United States? She has so much in common with people like my grandmother. She came from humble circumstances. We know of her great love and devotion to her family. And we’re pretty sure that she, like my grandmother, was in her late teens when she was engaged to someone she probably didn’t know that well. She was asked to travel great distances and do things that she didn’t understand.  

Yes, today, we celebrate that Mary was born without sin. But rather than concentrating on how Mary is different from us, let’s reflect on what we have in common with her. From the very beginning, God had a plan for Mary. Even before she was immaculately conceived, Mary was called by God to accept a future filled with uncertainty. 

God calls all of us to that same thing, a future filled with uncertainty. As God said through Jeremiah: “For I know well the plans I have in mind for you… plans for your welfare, not for woe; plans to give you a future full of hope.” Adam and Eve were called to trust in God’s plan. Their sin was that they failed to trust in God’s plan, trying to forge a future that wasn’t dependent on God. We don’t know exactly what God has planned for each of us in this lifetime, but we know that God has a plan for us. As our Ephesians reading declares: “[God] chose us in [Christ], before the foundation of the world….  In love [God] destined us.” It is up to us, at moments of uncertainty, to decide if we trust in the destiny God has for us, or if we decide to strike off on our own without God.  

Although Mary was without sin, she was not an automaton. When the angel asked her to cooperate with God’s plan, she could have said no. We have the same choices available to us as Mary, as Adam, and as Eve.

My grandmother was called to accept a future of uncertainty. She agreed to marry a man she barely knew and to move to another continent. God continually invites each of us to step into a future where we don’t know what will happen. This feast reminds us that God has a plan for us, and some day it will make sense. Let’s take a moment to give thanks for all those who came before us and made the choice to trust in God in the face of uncertainty, including all the diverse, humble people who make up this nation.  

I’d like to pray especially for my grandmother on what would have been her 115th birthday. Her name, incidentally, was Mary.