The Queenship of the Blessed Virgin Mary
Afterward he brought me to the gate, even the gate that looks toward the east. Behold, the glory of the God of Israel came from the way of the east. His voice was like the sound of many waters; and the earth was illuminated with his glory. It was like the appearance of the vision which I saw, even according to the vision that I saw when I came to destroy the city; and the visions were like the vision that I saw by the river Chebar; and I fell on my face. The Lord's glory came into the house by the way of the gate which faces toward the east. The Spirit took me up and brought me into the inner court; and behold, the Lord's glory filled the house.
I heard one speaking to me out of the house, and a man stood by me. He said to me, "Son of man, this is the place of my throne and the place of the soles of my feet, where I will dwell among the children of Israel forever. The house of Israel will no more defile my holy name, neither they nor their kings, by their prostitution and by the dead bodies of their kings in their high places;
Surely his salvation is near those who fear him, That glory may dwell in our land.
Mercy and truth meet together. Righteousness and peace have kissed each other.
Truth springs out of the earth. Righteousness has looked down from heaven. Yes, the Lord will give that which is good. Our land will yield its increase.
Righteousness goes before him, And prepares the way for his steps.
Then Jesus spoke to the multitudes and to his disciples, Saying, "The scribes and the Pharisees sit on Moses' seat. All things therefore whatever they tell you to observe, observe and do, but don't do their works; for they say, and don't do. For they bind heavy burdens that are grievous to be borne, and lay them on men's shoulders; but they themselves will not lift a finger to help them. But they do all their works to be seen by men. They make their phylacteries broad and enlarge the fringes of their garments, And love the place of honor at feasts, the best seats in the synagogues, The salutations in the marketplaces, and to be called 'Rabbi, Rabbi' by men. But you are not to be called 'Rabbi', for one is your teacher, the Christ, and all of you are brothers. Call no man on the earth your father, for one is your Father, he who is in heaven. Neither be called masters, for one is your master, the Christ. But he who is greatest among you will be your servant. Whoever exalts himself will be humbled, and whoever humbles himself will be exalted.
We celebrate today the Queenship of the Blessed Virgin Mary — a memorial established by Pope Pius XII in 1954, recognizing Mary not as a ruler over us, but as the mother who intercedes for us, crowned not by power but by humility.
And humility is exactly what threads through everything we've just heard.
Ezekiel's vision is overwhelming — the glory of God rushing in from the east like the sound of many waters, filling the temple until it can't hold anything else. Notice how the prophet doesn't stand and observe from a safe distance. He falls on his face. That's the instinctive response when something infinitely larger than us draws near. The earth itself is illuminated. This is what it looks like when God decides to dwell among us — not quietly, not partially, but completely.
Then we turn to the Gospel, and Jesus is pointing at a very different kind of presence — the scribes and Pharisees who have turned religious life into a performance. They've made their prayer boxes wider, their tassels longer, their titles more elaborate. The contrast with Ezekiel's vision is almost jarring. One image shows a God who fills a house with glory. The other shows human beings trying to fill a room with themselves.
What becomes clear is that Mary threads the needle perfectly between these two readings. She is the one who said "let it be done to me," not "look at what I've done." She is the Queen who magnifies God rather than herself, which is precisely why she's been exalted.
The invitation for us today is concrete: notice where the performance creeps in. The meeting where we make sure our contribution gets noticed. The generous act we mention just a little too casually.
Where are we making our phylacteries broad?
Are we drawn to serve, or to be seen serving?
What would it look like, today, to let God fill the room instead?