“May the Lord bless you and keep you in the new year 2026!”

On this first day of the year, the Church places on our lips not a resolution, but a blessing: “May the Lord bless you and keep you!” We begin the year not by asserting control over the future, but by surrendering it into the hands of God. This ancient priestly blessing from the Book of Numbers is not a wish; it is a promise spoken by God himself. To bless, in the biblical sense, is to give life, to confer favor, to place someone within the shelter of God’s faithful presence. Today, that blessing has a face. It is no longer only words pronounced over the people; it is the face of a child resting in the arms of his mother. In Mary, the Holy Mother of God, the blessing of God becomes flesh, close enough to be held, trusted, and pondered. The first reading tells us that God commands Aaron and his sons to bless the people by invoking God’s name upon them. To carry God’s name is to belong to Him. In the Gospel, we hear that on the eighth day the child is given the name Jesus—“God saves.” The name invoked upon Israel is now embodied in a person. The blessing spoken over the people is now spoken into the world through a life. When Mary holds Jesus, she holds the fulfillment of every blessing God has ever promised. Psalm 67 echoes this longing: “May God bless us in his mercy; may he let his face shine upon us.” Throughout Scripture, the shining face of God signifies peace, favor, and nearness. Yet no human being had ever seen God’s face—until now. In Jesus, born of Mary, God’s face shines upon us not from heaven but from a manger. God’s mercy is no longer distant or abstract; it cries, sleeps, and grows. And Mary is the first to behold that shining face with a mother’s gaze. Saint Paul, in the Letter to the Galatians, deepens this mystery: “When the fullness of time had come, God sent his Son, born of a woman.” This single phrase reveals the dignity of Mary and the depth of our salvation. God chose to need a mother. God chose to enter time, law, vulnerability, and human history through a woman’s yes. Because Mary gave birth to the Son, we are reborn as sons and daughters. Because she said yes, we can cry out, “Abba, Father.” The blessing of God is not merely protection from harm; it is adoption into God’s own family. The Gospel shows us how to receive this blessing. The shepherds rush in haste, see, and proclaim. Mary, however, does something quieter but no less profound: “She kept all these things, reflecting on them in her heart.” Mary teaches us that blessing is not always immediately understood. Sometimes it must be carried, trusted, and slowly discerned. As we begin a new year—with its hopes, uncertainties, wounds, and unanswered questions, Mary shows us a faith that does not demand clarity before commitment. She teaches us to hold the mystery until it reveals its meaning. At the start of this year, the Church invites us to stand with Mary and receive the blessing anew. Not as people who have everything figured out, but as children held by God. The Lord blesses us—not because we are strong, but because He is faithful. The Lord keeps us—not from every hardship, but through them. The Lord lets His face shine upon us—in Christ, born of Mary—so that even in dark moments, we are never without light. As we entrust this year to God, may Mary, the Mother of God and our Mother, teach us to welcome the blessing she first received and gave to the world. And may the name of Jesus—spoken over us in blessing—shape our days with peace, mercy, and hope. May the Lord bless you and keep you.