Homily – Our Lady of Walsingham

In 1061, in a quiet Norfolk village, Lady Richeldis had a vision.
Our Lady showed her the house of Nazareth — the little home where the angel Gabriel came, where the Word was made flesh.
And Mary said: “Build me a house here. Make England a Nazareth, a place where my Son is honoured, where the mystery of the Incarnation is remembered.”

So Walsingham became “England’s Nazareth.”
A place where pilgrims came from all over Europe.
A place where Mary’s yes was remembered, where Christ was adored.
And though the shrine was later torn down, devotion never died.
Today it rises again.

Buildings can be broken. Mary cannot be silenced. The Incarnation cannot be undone.

Our first reading takes us to the heart of it.
“The virgin shall conceive and bear a son, and shall call him Emmanuel… God-with-us.”

This was not just a vague dream.
It was God’s plan from the beginning.
The Word would become flesh.
God Himself would come among us.

Every religion reaches up for God. Only the Church proclaims that God bends down for us.

And Isaiah adds: “God is with us.”
That is the anchor of our hope.
In darkness, in exile, in suffering — God is with us.
Not far off, but Emmanuel.

And then Luke tells us how the prophecy came true.
The angel comes to Nazareth.
Not to a palace, but to a village.
Not to a queen, but to a young woman.

“Rejoice, Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with you.”
Mary is troubled.
But she listens.
She asks.
And she says:
“Behold the handmaid of the Lord. Let it be done to me according to your word.”

The greatest miracle in history began with the small word: yes.

And in that moment, the Word became flesh.
God entered His world.
History turned.

And Mary’s song becomes ours today:
“My soul magnifies the Lord, my spirit rejoices in God my Saviour.”

The Magnificat is not just a hymn.
It is Mary’s heart laid bare.

She is humble.

She is grateful.

She is full of joy.

She is centred not on herself, but on God.

That is why Mary is the perfect disciple.
Not because she was great, but because she was little.
Not because she did everything, but because she surrendered everything.

Mary magnifies the Lord by becoming small, and in her littleness God shows His greatness.

Why does this shrine, this feast, matter for us in England today?

Because England was once known as “Our Lady’s Dowry.”
This land was entrusted to her care.
Pilgrims walked barefoot to Walsingham, confessing sins, seeking mercy, honouring the Incarnation.

And though the shrine was destroyed, Our Lady never abandoned her children.
The devotion survived in hidden hearts, whispered prayers, secret rosaries.

The shrine was pulled down, but the Mother still stands by the Cross. The buildings fell, but Emmanuel — God with us — remains.

And today, pilgrims go again.
England has been re-dedicated as Our Lady’s Dowry.
The message of Walsingham is alive again:
God is with us. Mary points the way. Hope is not lost.

At its core, Walsingham is not about history or nostalgia.
It is about the Incarnation.
That God became man.
That He chose to dwell among us.
That He still chooses to dwell here, in our land, in our lives, in our parishes.

Mary’s role is always the same:
She points us to her Son.
She says, as at Cana: “Do whatever He tells you.”

Mary does not keep us in Walsingham — she sends us from Walsingham to Christ.

What does this feast mean for us today?

First: Welcome Mary into your home. John took her into his home. We must too. Through the Rosary, through prayer, through trust.
A house with Mary in it will always have Jesus in it.

Second: Live Nazareth here. The Holy House was small, simple, ordinary. That means holiness is not for the extraordinary. It is for our kitchens, our schools, our workplaces, our parish.
Nazareth is not far away. Nazareth begins in your home.

Third: Say yes. Mary’s yes was once-for-all, but ours must echo daily. Every act of prayer, kindness, obedience, sacrifice is another yes.
God builds His plan on human yesses, and Mary is the first and greatest yes.

There is a story of a pilgrim who came to Walsingham with a heavy heart.
He prayed in the Holy House.
And afterwards he said:
“I came here with burdens. I left here with a Mother.”

That is what happens when we entrust ourselves to Mary.
She carries us to Christ.
She takes what is heavy and brings us peace.

Today we keep the feast of Our Lady of Walsingham here in St Edward’s.
And it is good to remember that St Edward the Confessor himself loved Our Lady deeply.
He built churches in her honour. He prayed for her intercession. He wanted England to be Mary’s dowry.

So this feast speaks directly to us here.
If Edward the king honoured Mary in his time, let St Edward’s parish honour her in ours.

And how? Not by grand gestures, but by simple fidelity.
Walsingham was not a palace. It was a humble house.
That is the model for us.
We don’t need to be spectacular. We need to be faithful.
We don’t need to be impressive. We need to be Marian — listening, trusting, and saying yes.

When Mary is welcomed, Christ is enthroned. When Christ is enthroned, renewal begins.

So today at St Edward’s, let us entrust ourselves to her.
Let us make this parish her home, her Nazareth.

Because where Mary is, Christ is.
Where Christ is, God is with us.
And where God is with us, there is hope, joy, and salvation.