The first reading today comes from the Book of Revelation (11:19; 12:1-6,10). It is a book that we grapple a bit with and find difficult to understand at times. But in essence it is a book written for a Church under persecution, fear and uncertainty. Its purpose was not to frighten, but to encourage and strengthen Christians who were surrounded by a hostile empire, often hunted, imprisoned, and killed for their faith.
In the midst of that suffering and persecution John shares with them a vision – not of despair, but of hope. He shows them the image of a woman clothed with the sun, radiant with God’s light, threatened by the dragon, yet protected by God’s hand.
John’s vision is not just ancient history in fact it finds powerful echoes in our lives right now. We too live in an age where the forces of violence, hatred, and fear seem to roar like a dragon. Wars continue to scar the earth – in Gaza, in Ukraine, in Sudan, in the Democratic of the Congo, in Afghanistan and so many other places. Families are torn apart, children cry out in hunger – their fragile skin stretched over protruding ribs, refugees walk roads of exile.
In our own communities too we feel the reach of despair, the wounds of poverty, crime and fear for our safety.
It would be easy to give up hope. But today the Church proclaims something extraordinary: the Assumption of Mary into heaven. We celebrate that Mary, the humble servant of the Lord, was taken body and soul into the fullness of God’s presence.
Her story tells us where our story is headed. It tells us that God has not abandoned us, and that our destiny is not death and destruction, but life and glory. Mary did not live a sheltered life. She knew hardship and sorrow. She fled as a refugee into Egypt. She watched her Son be rejected and crucified, and yet, she never stopped saying “Yes” to God. God, in turn, crowned her with life.
Her Assumption is not just about her – it is about all of us. It is God’s promise that love will outlast hatred, that hope will conquer despair, that life will triumph over death.
So what does this feast mean for us, here and now, in a world so full of suffering? First, it reminds us of the power of prayer. Prayer is not a form of escape. Prayer is mission. When we pray for peace in Gaza, in Ukraine, in Sudan, or the DRD or in Congo, we join our voices with the cries of those who suffer. We place them before the throne of God and say: “Lord, let your kingdom come.” Prayer keeps our hearts alive when the world around us would have them grow cold.
This Feast day also challenges us to guard our hearts. The danger in times like these is not only what happens “out there,” but what happens inside of us.
When we see hatred and violence every day, we can become numb, and numbness is dangerous. A hard heart accepts evil as normal. But God calls us to something greater, God calls us to keep our hearts tender, alive with mercy and compassion. Like Mary, we are to be bearers of Christ’s love, even when the world around us feels dark.
Finally, of course, this feast day sends us on mission right where we are. We may not be able to stop wars beyond our borders, but we can build peace in our homes, our schools, our workplaces and in our parishes.
Every word spoken with kindness instead of anger, every act of reconciliation, every step toward understanding – these are not small things – they ripple outwards into the universe. They are seeds of God’s kingdom. They are how Mary’s “Yes” continues to echo in the world.
In today’s Gospel (Luke 1:39–56), we see Mary going in haste to visit Elizabeth, carrying within her the child who is the Saviour. She is truly the God-bearer – the one who brings Christ into the world. Her visit ends with the great hymn of the Magnificat, where she proclaims that God lifts up the lowly, scatters the proud, and remembers His mercy. This is not just a hymn of the past – it is the mission of the Church today. Just as Mary carried Christ and His peace into Elizabeth’s home, so too we are called to carry Christ into our homes, our society, our world.
Every time we welcome the stranger, forgive someone who has wronged us, or reach out to a neighbour in need, we echo Mary’s “Yes” and become bearers of God’s presence. In these simple yet powerful acts, Christ’s peace enters the world through us. When we live this way – giving witness to the love of Christ in our lives – we also help the world to find hope.
Hope is not a luxury. It is essential. It is especially in a wounded world. The Church has always carried hope into the darkest places – into prisons, refugee camps, and war zones. We are called to do the same, to be the light-bearers and hope-bearers in our own time.
Mary, assumed into heaven, reminds us that history belongs not to tyrants or warmongers, but to God. She points us to her Son, and says: “Do not be afraid. God is faithful.”
So as we go out from here today, let us not walk away discouraged by the violence of our age, but strengthened by the hope this feast gives us. Let us carry into our world the certainty that God’s love is stronger than any power of darkness, and that each of us can be a bearer of peace where we live, where we work, and where we serve.
With Mary as our mother and model, may we learn to say “Yes” each day to God’s plan, becoming signs of hope for others, until the day when we share in the joy of God’s kingdom, where peace and life endure forever.