feminine-genius

More to "hail" than we see

What this analysis offers makes perfect sense:

Fr. Albert Enard, O.P., a French Dominican priest, suggested a modification of the present form of the Hail Mary. He proposed a new translation of the opening word of the Angel's greeting to the Virgin Mary at the Annunciation (Lk 1: 28) to indicate that the angel's message is one of joy. The angel at the Annunciation said chaire: "rejoice" in St Luke's Gospel--translated into Latin as ave. In Latin, ave was a simple word of greeting. Consequently, all the Western European languages (dependent upon the Latin) translated ave as a simple word of greeting: Hail, Mary; Je vous salue Marie; Dios te salve Maria, etc.

In 1969, a change in the wording of this popular prayer first occurred in Lourdes. "Rejoice" (réjouis-toi) began to be used as the opening words of Ave Maria. Four years later, as the French bishops submitted the texts of the Lectionary to the Congregation for Divine Worship; they requested that the word "Rejoice" (rejouis-toi) be retained in the official liturgical texts. However, their request was denied. "The reasons for the change," the congregation averred, "appear to be less weighty than the reasons for not changing the words of the Hail Mary which are so dear to the Christian people." Accordingly, all the English Lectionaries have retained the phrase Hail Mary.

Meanwhile, Fr. Enard continued his work of showing that the angel's words were not simply words of greeting but a call to great joy. In 1983, his book Réjouis-toi Marie appeared with translations of the commentaries of Greek writers. The Akathist Hymn of the Byzantine Church is an extended meditation on the Annunciation scene, with the refrain "Rejoice, rejoice, o wedded virgin" repeated throughout. St Sophronias, patriarch of Jerusalem, commented, "What will the angel say to the blessed and pure Virgin? How will he communicate the great message? 'Rejoice, you have been filled with grace, the Lord is with you.' When he addressed her, he begins with joy, he who is the announcer of great joy."

Now it's true, that changing well-worn words -- even for the best of intentions -- proves difficult. Anyone who has tried to pray the "Saint Michael the Archangel" prayer in a group knows this. There are differing forms, and I thought I was clinging to the archaic -- until I prayed it with an older convert (from the High Anglican communion) and found that I was whiz-bang nouveau compared to her form. Same with the Magnificat. Thus to tinker with the Hail Mary would really require a monumental reason, which would then throw centuries of traditions into suspicion.

Better just to keep this insight close to our hearts, praying the "Hail" with all the reverence and wonder possible, since they are the words on which salvation history hinges. A marvel, a gift, and the revelation of so good a God -- not to mention the Immaculata who made it all possible. [Source]

[Image source]

Ultimate freedom

The question may strike you as irreverent. How dare I suggest that the Blessed Virgin Mary, Queen of Heaven, Co-Redemptrix of mankind, could have left us in the lurch like that?

But what if she had? Could she have said No? You might say that of course she couldn’t, she was far too holy — but you would be guilty of demeaning and dangerous sentimentality. It is demeaning because it turns Our Lady from a free human being into a sanctified automaton. The whole glory of the Annunciation is that Mary, the second Eve, could have said No to God but she said Yes instead. That is what we celebrate, that is what we praise her for; and rightly so.
This sentimental view is dangerous too. If we believe that the most important decision in the history of the world was in fact inevitable, that it couldn’t have been otherwise, then that means it was effortless. Now we have a marvellous excuse for laziness. Next time we’re faced with a tough moral decision, we needn’t worry about doing what is right. Just drift, and God will make sure that whatever choice we make is the right one. If God really wants us to do something he’ll sweep us off his feet the way he did Mary, and if he chooses not to, it’s hardly our fault, is it?

So Mary could have said No to Gabriel. What if she had? He couldn’t just go and ask someone else, like some sort of charity collector. With all the genealogies and prophecies in the Bible, there was only one candidate. It’s an alarming thought. Ultimately, of course, God would have done something: the history of salvation is the history of him never abandoning his people however pig-headed they were. But God has chosen to work through human history. If the first attempt at redemption took four thousand years to prepare, from the Fall to the Annunciation, how many tens of thousands of years would the next attempt have taken?

Even if the world sometimes makes us feel like cogs in a machine, each of us is unique and each of us is here for a purpose: just because it isn’t as spectacular a purpose as Mary’s, it doesn’t mean that it doesn’t exist. When we fail to seek our vocation, or put off fulfilling some part of it, we try to justify ourselves by saying that someone else will do it better, that God will provide, that it doesn’t really matter. But we are lying. However small a part I have to play, the story of the Annunciation tells me it is my part and no-one else can do it.

Faced with the enormity of her choice, how was Mary able to decide? If she said No, unredeemed generations would toil on under the burden of sin. If she said Yes, she herself would suffer, and so would her Son; but both would be glorified. Millions of people not yet born would have Heaven open to them; but millions of others would suffer oppression and death in her son’s name. The stakes were almost infinite.

You might say that Mary didn’t worry about all this, just obeyed God; but I don’t believe it. What God wanted was not Mary’s unthinking obedience but her full and informed consent as the representative of the entire human race. The two greatest miracles of the Annunciation are these: that God gave Mary the wisdom to know the consequences of her decision, and that he gave her the grace not to be overwhelmed by that knowledge.

When we come to an important decision in our lives, we can easily find our minds clouded by the possible consequences, or, even more, by partial knowledge of them. How can we ever move, when there is so much good and evil whichever way we go? The Annunciation gives us the answer. God’s grace will give us the strength to move, even if the fate of the whole world is hanging in the balance. After all, God does not demand that our decisions should be the correct ones (assuming that there even is such a thing), only that they should be rightly made.

There is one more truth that the Annunciation teaches us, and it is so appalling that I can think of nothing uplifting to say about it that will take the sting away: perhaps it is best forgotten, because it tells us more about God than we are able to understand. The Almighty Father creates heaven and earth, the sun and all the stars; but when he really wants something done, he comes, the Omnipotent and Omniscient, to one of his poor, weak creatures — and he asks.

And, day by day, he keeps on asking us (From Universalis).

Waiting for the Dawn

"My soul waits for the Lord more than sentinels wait for the dawn" (Psalm 130 -- the De Profundis)

The Virgin was absolutely certain of the Resurrection of her Son because He had so openly predicted it. However, she did not know the hour, which is, in fact, determined nowhere. Therefore, the night of Holy Saturday seemed very long indeed and she spent the time reflecting on the possible time of the Resurrection. She was aware that David, more than the other prophets, had spoken of the Passion of Christ and she skimmed through the psalms, but found no indication of the hour. However, in Psalm 57, David, speaking in the person of the Father to His Son, said: "Awake, my glory, awake my lyre and harp..." And the Son answered: "I will awake at dawn ..." When the Virgin Mary realized the hour of the Resurrection, I will let you imagine how quickly she must have got up to see if the dawn had risen. When she found that it had not, she continued reading the psalms. She wanted to find out if any of the other prophets had mentioned the time of the Resurrection and she found this text in chapter 6: 2-3 of Hosea: "After two days he will revive us, on the third day he will raise us up and we will live in his presence. Let us strive to know the Lord, for his coming is a sure as the dawn."

Saint Vincent Ferrer, Spanish Dominican (d. 1419)

Mary is the face of the Church

Just as God the Father stepped into our world through Mary, her motherhood is a sure path back into His arms. In that light, Pope Benedict visited the Roman house of the Missionaries of Charity:

Following a brief greeting from Sister Mark Poustani, superior of the house, the Pope pronounced his address. "I am among you today", he said, "to renew my gratitude to the sisters, the volunteers and others who collaborate here. I am here, especially, to express my spiritual closeness to you, dear friends, who in this house find loving welcome, acceptance and understanding, a form of daily support that is both material and spiritual. I am here to tell you the Pope loves you and is close to you".

  The Holy Father then went on to recall how Mother Teresa chose to name the house "Dono di Maria" (Gift of Mary) because she wanted people "always to be able to experience the love of the Blessed Virgin. In fact, for whoever comes to knock on the door, being welcomed in the loving embrace of the sisters and volunteers is like a gift of Mary", as is "the presence of people who pause to listen to those in difficulty and serve them with the same readiness that caused the mother of the Lord to visit St. Elisabeth.

And so it is with our motherhood, as we imitate Mary's embrace, her ready smile, her open door, her generous love that sprang from the Bridegroom's devotion to her. Remember, dear sisters, your smiles may be the only visible trace of Holy Mother Church that some people will ever see. Let's resolve this year to be living icons of the bride, in all her splendor.

Shalom!

Touchstone points us to this gem from last night's Vespers service of the Orthodox church:

Receive, O Bethlehem, her that is the City of God; for she is come unto thee to give birth to the unwaning Light. Ye Angels, be astonished in Heaven; ye men, give glory on earth; ye Magi, bring from Persia your thrice-glorious gift; ye shepherds abiding in the field, sing the thrice holy-hymn. Let every breath praise the Creator of all.

I cherish anything that makes such references to Our Lady, specifically linking her to Jerusalem. There are many Scriptural allusions to her motherhood imaging that holy city, "to whom the tribes go up..." Makes me long for the new translations that will one day be a part of our liturgy, restoring beauty and dignity to the Bride of Christ.

Rejoice, Virgin-Mother Clothed with the Sun

Rejoice, Protector of the helpless little ones!
Rejoice, Defender of children in the wombs of their mothers!
Rejoice, for of such is the Kingdom of God!
Rejoice, for Thou dost not suffer the little ones to come to Thy Son!
Rejoice, for thousands of children were martyred by Herod to save Thy Son!
Rejoice, for Thou art surrounded by their souls as with a precious Crown!
Rejoice, for Thou art the support of mothers everywhere!
Rejoice, for Thou art their mainstay and hope!
Rejoice, for Thou nourishes them and their children on the Milk of Thy Grace!
Rejoice, for unto us a Son is born!
Rejoice, for His Name is Emmanuel!
Rejoice, for God is with us in a little Child!
Rejoice, O Lady from Heaven, Virgin-Mother clothed with the Sun!

The peoples of Mexico and all the Americas wonder in amazement at God's lovingkindness in sending us the image not made by human hands of His Most Holy Mother to be with us in our suffering and need. The Church, in the Name of Christ Crucified, also commands us to take our Mother home with us, in that holy image, to be our Guide and sure Protection as Thy faithful servants. And we lovingly obey, as we sing: Alleluia!

[Source information on Icon and Akathist prayer here.]

Daughter Sion--Mother Mary

Jerusalem, Mother of All Nations; Mary, Mother of the Church;

Its foundations are set on the sacred mountains –
the Lord loves the gates of Sion
more than all the tents of Jacob.
Glorious things are said of you, city of God!

I shall count Rahab and Babylon among those who acknowledge me.
The Philistines, Tyrians, Ethiopians –
all have their birthplace here.
Of Sion it will be said “Here is the birthplace of all people:
the Most High himself has set it firm”.

The Lord shall write in the book of the nations:
“Here is their birthplace”.
They will sing as in joyful processions:
“All my being springs from you”.

Glory be to the Father and to the Son and to the Holy Spirit,
as it was in the beginning, is now, and ever shall be,
world without end.
Amen.

All the tribes will go up to Jerusalem; all children will find sanctuary in Holy Mother Church. My sisters in Christ, your motherhood is essential to the Kingdom. Be a sanctuary. Keep your torch ablaze -- in readiness for the Bridegroom.

From Saint Anselm:

Blessed Lady, sky and stars, earth and rivers, day and night – everything that is subject to the power or use of man – rejoice that through you they are in some sense restored to their lost beauty and are endowed with inexpressible new grace. All creatures were dead, as it were, useless for men or for the praise of God, who made them. The world, contrary to its true destiny, was corrupted and tainted by the acts of men who served idols. Now all creation has been restored to life and rejoices that it is controlled and given splendour by men who believe in God.

The universe rejoices with new and indefinable loveliness. Not only does it feel the unseen presence of God himself, its Creator, it sees him openly, working and making it holy. These great blessings spring from the blessed fruit of Mary’s womb.

Through the fullness of the grace that was given you, dead things rejoice in their freedom, and those in heaven are glad to be made new. Through the Son who was the glorious fruit of your virgin womb, just souls who died before his life-giving death rejoice as they are freed from captivity, and the angels are glad at the restoration of their shattered domain.

Lady, full and overflowing with grace, all creation receives new life from your abundance. Virgin, blessed above all creatures, through your blessing all creation is blessed, not only creation from its Creator, but the Creator himself has been blessed by creation.

To Mary God gave his only-begotten Son, whom he loved as himself. Through Mary God made himself a Son, not different but the same, by nature Son of God and Son of Mary. The whole universe was created by God, and God was born of Mary. God created all things, and Mary gave birth to God. The God who made all things gave himself form through Mary, and thus he made his own creation. He who could create all things from nothing would not remake his ruined creation without Mary.

God, then, is the Father of the created world and Mary the mother of the re-created world. God is the Father by whom all things were given life, and Mary the mother through whom all things were given new life. For God begot the Son, through whom all things were made, and Mary gave birth to him as the Saviour of the world. Without God’s Son, nothing could exist; without Mary’s Son, nothing could be redeemed.

Truly the Lord is with you, to whom the Lord granted that all nature should owe as much to you as to himself.

"God, then, is the Father of the created world and Mary the mother of the re-created world." Allow your maternal gifts to be of service to re-create the sliver of the world entrusted to you. Learn from Mary and foster life. Where there is life, there is hope.

Where is the bride...? (II)

Another heap of suffering has been put into words eloquently here: 

What we see in the midst of great agony and strife is usually a glimpse into both Heaven and Hell - and in the glimpsing, there's a gift. In my broken, four-pound baby, who looked a little different, lived a great deal differently, and ultimately left me here to grieve her loss, I found a sort of joy that I'd never known, a real joy, and my time with her was not only laced but literally steeped in happiness and blessing. And yet, the hour of her departure and certainly the last moments I held her were wracked with a sorrow and heartache that I could not have imagined. There was a bit of Heaven, and a bit of Hell. How I long to fully know the one and fully spurn the other! Therein lies the real gift. Perhaps God's will is more wrapped up in removing the blinders from our eyes than in giving or taking anything away...

Before Copeland was born, I prayed that God would give me a "vision for eternity." I think I probably uttered those words more in a moment of personal satisfaction - "wow, that sounds good!" - than true desire, but nevertheless, they seemed to have been Spirit-filled. I want a clearer understanding of Heaven, to be sure. I want to know more fully where Copeland is. But my prayer at that point, while I thought it regarded her experiences, was really about my own. If the only vision I have is for right now - she's gone, i'm here, and the world's literally going to Hell in a handbasket - then I'm going to be one bitter girl. The vision I need is one that tells me that what makes sense to my senses isn't necessarily true. Broken bodies often equal whole spirits. Strength can sometimes house itself in weakness. A vision for eternity turns the truths of this world on end. It's the only way an unattractive, unpopular renegade hanging on a cross can possibly mean more than brutality and devastation.

Now obviously she has the ability to see Him, not as an unattractive renegade, but as the cherished Bridegroom of her soul. That comes with the gift of faith. I think in reading her entire post and the background of this child's short life, we must remember two things. There is a difference between God's perfect will and His permissive will. It is in the latter that we come to understand that "all things work together unto good for those who love Him" (it seems to be misunderstood in the comment section there); and secondly, we have to understand that, in a fallen world, to love is to suffer.

The two errors that tempt us are either to stop caring so much, and to withdraw into a world of sterile, distracting amusements, or to wallow in our suffering without hope, without faith, and without perspective. Our feminine genius is to bridge the personal suffering incumbent in our motherly love with the transcendent suffering of the One Who gives it meaning -- without losing eye-contact with either the souls in our care or the Beloved, Who loves them more than we do, Who suffers with them still.

As difficult as it can be at times, be the bridge -- like Mary. Make the eternal present in your maternal concern. Yours is the face of His bride.

Where is the bride...?

Like most, I've followed the story about Abp. Neiderauer giving Holy Communion to the men in drag, but I've seen no need to blog here, where we stick to the theme of femininity. Blasphemy is all-too-common, same-sex attraction disorder an intention that should ever be in our prayers, and the difficulties of exercising authority something that must be far harder than it looks. But Diogenes has commented in a way that deposits it in the lap of all women who struggle to be authentic icons of the bride:

One might think gay-friendly moderates would cringe at the flamboyance of the drag-queen activism and the belligerence of the Sister Edith sacrilege, but in fact the reproaches come exclusively from the conservative side of the aisle, while the progressivists seem unable to grasp what all the fuss is about. Some have hesitantly conceded that the Sister Act was "inappropriate" -- as if the dispute hinged on the etiquette of church-going -- but the general liberal consensus seems to be that anything that antagonizes the Catholic League must be on the right track and worthy of defense. [My bold]

Here we are, mourning and weeping in this vale of tears. Each of us, over coffee, would share her struggles -- physical, reproductive, parental, spousal, financial, theological. Like the Church, we suffer assaults from all angles, and yet, with Mary, it is left to us to remain faithfully at the foot of the Cross. En route to His final, consummate gift of Self, Jesus turned to a cluster of women -- women like us -- and noticed the tears. He notices still, and receives them as a collaboration with his heartfelt concern for all souls. He had received them before He set out on that path, from the contrite heart of the Magdalen, who showed us best what to do with those tears.

The bride is on Calvary next to the Bridegroom. We cannot parse the insults hurled at Him from every direction -- especially when one comment contradicts the next, and they tumble in disarray and confusion. Such is the heart of darkness. Just be faithful. Be the bride, faithful til death.

Regenerative mother-love

There is a beautiful testament to the witness of the sacraments here:

This was the first time I have ever been in the presence of the Missionaries of Charity. They were constantly smiling. They were clearly devoted to the mothers and children they serve. They were so obviously comitted to serving Jesus that He was present in every move...[A] little boy in his white tux ran around, seeking the Sisters. He ran into the pew, and Sister greeted him with a glowing smile, caught him up, and held him in her lap for a moment.

I was so struck by the image of her reaching arms, her veil, and that child coming to her. Suddenly I realized I was seeing a reflection of Mary, our Heavenly Mother, always ready with open arms, always ready to to catch us up, beaming, awaiting our affection, returning her own. The woman clothed as a Missionary of Charity was a very image of the Mother of God; and as I watched, my eyes teared up. All I saw was love. All I saw was Heaven; all I saw was our Mother, realizing that she treats us all in the same way. We are all her children, all so beloved.

Soliciting prayers for the continued needs of this family, that it turn completely to Christ and His light. I've just finished the new book on Mother Teresa, so the whole "lamp in the darkness" theme is reverberating today, and clearly visible in this story.