God often begins His greatest works quietly

Dear Brothers and Sisters in Christ,

Today the Church celebrates something very simple: the birth of Mary. Not the Annunciation. Not the Visitation. Not the Assumption. Her birth. And that is worth thinking about, because when Mary was born, nobody looking at that little child could have known what God was preparing. Nobody could have seen Bethlehem, Calvary, Pentecost, or the countless generations who would one day call her blessed. To everyone around her, it probably looked like an ordinary birth in an ordinary family. But heaven knew something was beginning. That may be the theme of today’s feast: God often begins His greatest works quietly, long before we understand what He is doing.

That is why today’s Gospel begins with a genealogy: a long list of names. Some were saints, some were sinners, some were faithful, some made terrible mistakes. There are beautiful stories and very messy stories in that family tree. And yet God works through all of it until we finally hear the name of Mary, “of whom Jesus was born.” That should give us hope. God does not need a perfect family history to accomplish His purpose. He does not need a perfect past. He can take the broken pieces, the wrong turns, the disappointments, even the things we wish had never happened, and somehow weave them into a story of grace.

Sometimes we become discouraged because we judge our lives only by what we can see right now. We look at a difficult season and think “Nothing is happening.” We look at a prayer that has not been answered and think, “God is not listening.” We look at ourselves and think “What could God possibly do with me?” But imagine looking at Mary as a newborn child and asking the same question. The answer would not yet be visible. And maybe that is the point. Not everything God is doing in your life is meant to make sense today. Some graces begin as seeds. Some answers take years.

Mary’s life teaches us that holiness is simply about being available for the next step. Mary did not receive a map of her entire life. She received enough grace to say yes when the moment came. And perhaps that is what God asks from us too. We want Him to explain everything. But God often gives us something much smaller: the grace for today. The courage for this decision. The strength for this cross. The faith for this next yes.

So on Mary’s birthday, perhaps let us ask ourselves: What if God is already doing something in my life that I cannot yet recognise? What if this ordinary day, this struggle, this waiting, this hidden act of faithfulness is part of something much greater? Mary’s birth reminds us that God is not absent simply because His work is hidden. The God who quietly prepared Mary for her place in salvation history is still preparing people, hearts, and circumstances today.

Prayer: Blessed Mother, on the day we celebrate your birth, teach us to trust the quiet work of God. When we cannot see where our lives are going, help us to believe that God is still present. Give us your faith to say yes to Him one day at a time, and your humility to let His plan unfold in His time. Mary, Mother of God, pray for us. Amen.

– Homily by Rev Fr Patrick Agbeko