Theotokos!

Theotokos.  The very word conjures up a fiery, terrifying Galadriel-like image that exudes power.  Not the humble, Middle-Eastern peasant maiden, lying on the hard barn floor, next to a manger in which she has just lain her swaddled newborn, that she may have a few moments rest from the labors of childbirth.

Theotokos, Greek for "God-bearer", is one of the titles we Catholics give to Jesus' Mother.  The one we celebrate on January 1st.  Though my own image of Mary is far more human.  

There is a theory that Mary did not experience labor pains, but that Jesus issued forth from her womb painlessly, closing it back up behind Him, angels attending them, while Joseph was off doing something foster-fatherly.  I have a problem with that.  I have far more respect for a Mary who experienced all the physical, emotional and hormonal difficulties that we women do, yet, in her perfection, was able to master her responses and act in a holy fashion.  The Mary who stood in agony at the foot of the cross, dying inside as her son died physically.  The Mary who "pondered these things in her heart" for 3 days and was the first to rejoice in the resurrection.  The Mary whose only goal has ever been to lead us to her Son, not to garner worship and praise for herself.  This is the woman I can call to when I am suffering.  The woman whose life I can meditate on when I need direction in my own.  The queen whom I follow.

My Theotokos.

Happy New Year!!

First Saturday Devotions - Substance or Superstition?

Today is the first Saturday of June.  My dad's roses are blooming profusely.  After so many Marian celebrations last month, my thoughts have turned to the First Saturdays and how they got started.  It's been a few years since Catholic school, and I live out in the sticks, where we're lucky to have "daily" Mass once a week.  So I did a little research on the First Saturdays.

The "official" First Saturday Marian Devotions with their attendant "promises" originated with the apparitions of Our Blessed Mother to the children at Fatima.  But Saturday had already long been a special day of devotion to Our Lady.  According to Marian Devotions in the Domestic Church, by the ninth century, Saturday devotion to Mary had already become popular.  Marian Catechist explains that, according to several theologians of the 12th and 13th centuries,  " Mary continued to believe, demonstrating her deep faith by never doubting for a moment her Son’s promise of resurrection".  They also give several other reasons and traditions for Saturday Masses being dedicated to Mary before Fatima.  So, long tradition.  

Okay, what about post-Fatima?  My favorite take on our current practice of this devotion is at the Bearing Blog.  I can totally relate to the author's reference to superstition and selfish intentions.  I returned to wearing the brown scapular and the chapel veil a few years ago.  As I put on or remove my scapular, I dedicate myself to Mary, and ask her to help me to practice modesty, purity and holiness (I need LOTS of help!).  As I put on my chapel veil for Mass or Eucharistic Devotion, I ask for humility and to remember to try to be of service to the other members of Christ's body.  It really irritates me to hear the scapular promoted as a talisman to protect a person from harm and/or hell.  The scapular in itself is just a piece of brown scratchy cloth.  It is what it symbolizes that is sacramental and only in that is it nourishing to the spiritual life.

In the same way, to complete the Five First Saturdays, including Holy Communion, Confession, fifteen minutes meditation, and five decades of the Rosary, just to benefit from the Promises - that Our Lady will "assist at the hour of death with all the graces necessary for salvation",  seems abhorrent to me.  On the surface.  More on that in a few lines.  For one thing, there is a fifth requirement to the fulfillment of the Promise - that the devotion be performed "with the intention of making reparation for the sins committed against the Immaculate Heart of Mary".  Someone who isn't sincere, will not be able to complete all Five Saturdays without this intention.  Even if one starts without that intention, it seems to grow on you in the practice.  Secondly, look at the promise.  What are the "graces necessary for salvation"?  Ponder that.  This devotion is not just another easy ticket into heaven.

So what about the superficial motive of performing the devotion just to benefit from the Promise?  When I was a child in Catholic school I performed many of the various recommended devotions our rich and ancient tradition makes available to us.  I was sincere and devout about them at the time.  I stored up a few treasures in heaven.  Then I became a teenager and then an adult.  I finally went the way of the world, and even left the church for a few years.  What's my point?  I came back.  I returned hungry for the Eucharist.  Starved for teaching and direction for following Jesus.  I came back with a desire to amend my life and be a better person.  Was it because of all those novenas I made as a child?  Was it because of all the prayers of my parents and loved ones?  

Certainly I'm not any more special than any other child of the Father.  I can't offer any tangible proof, but I'm certainly not going to discount the power of a Promise.  I hope I have a ways to go before I have need of that final assistance.  Making another round of Five First Saturdays would undoubtedly benefit me now, as well as later.

The Pilgrim Virgin of Guadalupe

A couple of months ago I was priviledged to participate in the pilgrimage of Our Lady of Guadalupe within our Mexican community.  Once a year, a couple from Prescott brings a life-size portrait of the Virgin to our small town and She visits a number of homes where we gather for a nightly rosary, singing and a snack or meal afterwards.  The food is always wonderful, the fellowship is comforting and the prayer time is liberating.  More than one person has remarked on the relief experienced after laying his or her troubles at the feet of Our Lady. 

This last visit lasted two months.  Though it was often difficult to drag myself out of the house in the evening, when all I wanted was to eat a simple meal in front of the TV or read a good book, once I got there the power of shared prayer and devotions worked its healing magic on my weary body and mind.

Now that the Pilgrim Virgin has moved on, I struggle to say my daily rosary.  The day gets so busy that when evening finally comes I am so tired that I fall into bed, reach over for my beads and maybe make it past the opening prayers before sleep overtakes me.  On days when we have somewhere to go, we manage to say the rosary in the car.  Living 50 miles from anywhere does have its perks.  Sometimes my best time to say the rosary is in the evenings when I am topping off water troughs for the animals.  The rhythm of the prayers, the cool of the mountain evening and the glory of the Arizona sunset just seem to lend themselves to meditation.  Even then, frequently the boy is pestering me to play cowboy squirt guns or throw the baseball with him.  Well, we keep trying.  And we are truly blessed!