Body and Blood of Christ
May 18, 2008
“I myself am the living bread”
John 6:51
‘TIS THE MONTH OF OUR
MOTHER….. For those of us more “mature”
folks, that song title--along with “On This Day O Beautiful Mother” and “Bring
Flowers of the Fairest”--brings back memories of May devotions and May
crownings of Mary’s statue. In my earlier teen years I joined the Sodality of
Our Lady and, in my later teens during the last years of World War II, I along
with hundreds of other Catholics in Chicago participated every Friday in the
Sorrowful Mother novena. Interestingly,
once the war was over, this devotion also seemed to join history. I have often wondered why
devotion to Mary has ebbed and flowed in my lifetime. I attribute some of it to our earlier understanding of Jesus; we
saw Him as this divine person far removed from us; Mary, whom we saw as human
like us, seemed closer and more understanding of our needs, especially in
difficult times. As Vatican II re-emphasized
Jesus’ humanity and called us to see Him as a role model whom we could imitate
in our daily lives, Mary became less prominent in the devotional life of many
Catholics. In recent years articles and
books written about Mary have challenged us to see Mary as she truly was—a
young woman of Middle Eastern culture rather than blond and blue-eyed,
gorgeously dressed, and standing on a pedestal. She would have been called Miriam after the sister of Moses, a
common name in that Jewish culture. She
belonged to the peasant class, which eked out its living through agriculture
and small commercial ventures like carpentry.
Their lives were grinding with heavy tax burdens and frequent raids by
the Roman military. With Joseph, Mary raised Jesus in what must have been difficult
and oppressive circumstances. In “Mary of History” (a recent Catholic Update by Robert P.
Maloney) he states that it would be a mistake to think of Mary as fragile or
submissive. “Though Mary’s culture was quite different from that of our 21st
century post-industrial society, it was not unlike that of women in thousands
of villages as they exist today in Asia, Africa, and Latin America. Mary’s song of praise on her visit to
Elizabeth, as recorded in the gospel of Luke and which we know as the
Magnificat, is filled not only with praise, but also with hope for the future
when justice will be the experience of all people. As one who will experience
poverty, oppression, violence and the execution of her son, Mary sings
confidently that God rescues life from death, joy from sorrow, light from
darkness.” Dietrich Bonhoeffer, the
theologian-martyr executed by the Nazis in l945, spoke these words during a
sermon in 1933: The song of Mary is
the oldest Advent hymn. It is at once the
most passionate, the wildest, one might even say the most
revolutionary Advent hymn ever sung.
This is not the
gentle, tender, dreamy Mary whom we sometimes see in
paintings; this is that passionate, surrendered, proud, enthusiastic
Mary who speaks out here... about collapsing thrones
and humbled lords of this world,
about the power of God
and the powerless of humankind. Contemporary scripture scholars
and theologians have blessed us with a more realistic view of Mary without
compromising her special place in our Catholic faith. Each of us probably has our own preferred way of honoring Mary. One
that has recently become part of my private devotion is the Sorrowful Mysteries
of the rosary (Agony in the garden; Scourging at the pillar; Crowning of
thorns; Carrying of the cross; Crucifixion).
Perhaps it harkens back to the Sorrowful Mother novena in WWII but, as I
pray each decade, I think of those risking their lives for us today in another
war: the military men and women facing death each day; those wounded
physically; those returning with brain injuries and/or psychological problems;
the families struggling without their loved ones; the families whose loved ones
do not return. And so we continue to pray
“Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us…..” Sister Marie, O.P.
2004 letters
2003 letters
2002 letters
2001 letters
2000 letters