Ave Maria, gratia plena

Hail Mary! Or, as the Catholic University of Maryland students down the road say, Hail Mary Land!

[Quick historical note: Maryland was the first colony in English America that extended freedom of religion to Catholics. While the colony was not expressly founded for the purpose of free Roman Catholic worship (which was prohibited in England in the early 17th century), the founding Calverts were Catholic and it followed that all believing Christians were permitted -- at least for a decade or so! -- to practice their faith freely. Maryland was not named for the Blessed Virgin Mary, as I once believed, but for the French Catholic Henrietta Maria, wife of England's King Charles I. That an English king should marry a Catholic was controversial.]

It is especially fitting to pay tribute to Mary, as this is her month. She who gave birth to Jesus is honored at the time of year when the earth is giving birth to all its glorious greenery. Even down here around DC the trees don't fully sprout their leaves until about May 1, and so it is as fitting now as it was in medieval times that we remember the Mother of God in prayer in a special way this month.

Appropriately enough, I have been invited to a friend's house to pray the Rosary four nights this month. As I have gotten a bit out of the habit, it will be good to resume this particularly powerful devotion.

Powerful, indeed: I have heard that an area priest says that asking Mary to pray for us is like using a spiritual bazooka. That's right, a bazooka. Mary is the first and best Christian. We know she is in heaven; Christians of all stripes have affirmed this. If we believe in the communion of saints, as we say we do in the Apostles' Creed, then we are sure that earthly person closest to God is praying to God for us. Mary thus leads us to Christ as no other saint can.

Saying the Hail Mary's while meditating on the mysteries of Christ's life makes for what has also been called a "busy" prayer. It has taken me a while to grow accustomed to this, and I no doubt have much to practice still. But as Jesus said in Luke 11, "Ask and you will receive; seek and you will find; knock and the door will be opened to you." Sometimes with increased "business" there is a greater capacity for unexpected union and grace. Just as we can expect spiritual comfort through Mary when we ask for it honestly, we can expect to build up our devotion to God by praying the Rosary devoutly.

The Chaplet of the Divine Mercy

"For the sake of His sorrowful passion, have mercy on us and on the whole world..."

Here's a devotion for our times: the Divine Mercy Chaplet. Revealed to Sr. (now Saint) Faustina, a simple, young, Polish nun, the Chaplet of the Divine Mercy is also simple and relatively young, considering Jesus waited until after the birth of my Polish-American grandmother to reveal his particular message of mercy to Sr. Faustina.

The excellent EWTN guide linked above does an excellent job explaining the background, structure, and significance of the chaplet. (What exactly is a chaplet, you ask? I didn't know either; it's nothing more than "a part of a rosary comprising five decades.") As the guide explains, Jesus did not reveal any new teaching; we have long known that His mercy is greater than any of our sins. But we have long failed to avail ourselves of that mercy, and to subsequently obey Christ's command that we constantly show mercy to each other.

I originally intented to post something apropos on Divine Mercy Sunday. The late, great Pope John Paul II had a strong devotion to the Divine Mercy, and in the jubilee year 2000 formally instituted Divine Mercy Sunday in the Church's calendar as the second Sunday of the Easter season. He called April 30, 2000 -- the day of Sr. Faustina's canonization and also the day the Feast of the Divine Mercy was declared for the universal Church -- the happiest day of his life. God saw fit to relieve him of his earthly struggles on the eve of Divine Mercy Sunday in 2005.

I have found that saying the Divine Mercy chaplet is very humbling and a good way to meditate on the redemptive nature of Christ's suffering for us. I plan to be more mindful of the hour of Divine Mercy, too: 3 in the afternoon, the hour Christ died for us. If possible the Chaplet is to be said then, but even a very short, prayerful remembrance of the Passion at that time is very fruitful.

St. Faustina, pray for us.

"Holy God, Holy Mighty One, Holy Immortal One, have mercy on us and on the whole world."

"I have competed well; I have finished the race..."

If you were a Notre Dame student you may have noticed, as I did, the creation a few years back of a student praise and worship group called Four:7. I never took part but was curious enough to look up the Bible verse to which the name of the group refers. Considered with the verse that inspired the name of this blog, it's the "other" 4:7 from Paul's letters to Timothy, 2 Timothy 4:7. "I have competed well; I have finished the race; I have kept the faith."

Appropriate to Notre Dame, with all its athletics, no? I got to thinking about this again yesterday, with summer-like weather having arrived just in time for the weekend here in Maryland. It was a great opportunity to go for a long bike ride, so I went for one. Yesterday was also the day a couple of my friends ran in a marathon.

So on a weekend when some of us literally competed well and/or finished the race, how are we to think about physical trials as a devotion?

On one hand I think it's easy read too much into athletics as a means of witnessing to God. St. Paul probably did not run marathons (though Marathon, Greece was a part of his world and I believe such races existed even in his day). St. Paul was of course referring to the trials of the spiritual life as being the true test of endurance, after all.

On the other hand St. Paul at least recognized the value of the analogy. According to 1 Corinthians 24, we are to "Run so as to win." He goes on, "Every athlete exercises discipline in every way. They do it to win a perishable crown, but we an imperishable one. Thus I do not run aimlessly; I do not fight as if I were shadowboxing. No, I drive my body and train it, for fear that, after having preached to others, I myself should be disqualified." If athletes work as hard as they do for passing glory - and believe me, at Notre Dame, they do - then how much harder are we to train ourselves for an infinitely greater glory to come!

I found it interesting that, even when St. Paul is not explicitly taking up the image of the athlete, the affinity in his language remains. At the end of his first chapter to the Colossians: "It is he whom we proclaim, admonishing everyone and teaching everyone with all wisdom, that we may present everyone perfect in Christ. For this I labor and struggle, in accord with the exercise of his power working with me." I looked up the Greek word for "struggle," and it (agōnizomai) is the verb that could literally mean "to compete for a prize." We might also translate it as "agonize," indicating not just competition, but agony for the purposes of winning the prize. Is there any doubt that many serious marathon runners endure a good bit of physical - and maybe even mental - agony in the pursuit of their prize?

To interpret Paul, as Dr. Peter Pett has done: the power to win the prize is not ours; it is Christ's. But this does not mean we do not have to expend effort to realize that power, far from it. We are to find it within ourselves to make Christ's power possible within our lives, and sometimes this requires efforts that leave us close to exhaustion.

So what is the value of pushing ourselves hard across a physical finish line? I would venture to say that it is not the race itself that has intrinsic value. But insofar as physical training is akin to spiritual training, the challenges of the race prepare us for spiritual struggles that may require at least as much endurance. If we are willing to fight for a perishable crown, we should be more willing to fight for the imperishable one. May we continue to train ourselves for devotion.

Easter reading

He has been raised! Mark 16

The stone the builders rejected has become the cornerstone. Psalm 118

For the trumpet will sound,
the dead will be raised incorruptible,
and we shall be changed. 1 Corinthians 15

Peace be with you. Luke 24


A blessed Easter to you and yours this day and throughout the Easter season.

O come let us adore Him?

This afternoon I biked down to a local church that has Eucharistic adoration most waking hours of every day but found that the Blessed Sacrament has not been exposed during the Triduum and will not be until 7 am tomorrow morning. I wonder what exactly the justification is for this, if in fact there is a theological underpinning to the practice. Maybe the parish is just too busy with all the other celebrations upcoming.

I was a little disappointed, but in a way it makes sense: Holy Saturday is a day of waiting if ever there were one in the Church calendar. I know, by the time this is posted some of you will have celebrated the Easter Vigil, the greatest night of the Church year. But I'll be waiting just a bit longer for early Easter Sunday morning, in all its radiant glory (it's supposed to be sunny here). After all, isn't that when the women at the tomb first learned the good news!

I was going to get into my devotion to Eucharistic adoration but that can wait. I'll probably get up at the crack of dawn and bike to that chapel at 7 tomorrow to get a head start on celebrating the miracle of Easter. A happy and expectant Easter Vigil, everyone.

Veneration of the Cross

A brief comment inspired by Good Friday's veneration of the Cross by Catholics worldwide: How wonderfully embodied the devotions of the Church can be and should be. By which I mean to say that all five senses should perceive the glory of God in church. Of course we hear God's word proclaimed and the music performed and sung, we see the priest acting in persona Christi (in the person of Christ) during the celebration of the sacraments, we smell the purifying incense, and we taste the accidents of bread and wine in Christ's true presence in the Eucharist. But there is usually not so much touching beyond the sign of peace, and many would say that there is too much touching going on even then.

But then there is the veneration of the Cross. One gets up close and personal, literally and spiritually. I touched a nail, and some of the Passion hit me in a way it hadn't before.

I am trying to think of another faith tradition that demands greater use of the senses, but I can't think of any.

Practicing Fasting

I hope your Holy Week has been, as advertised, holy. Now that the Paschal Triduum is upon us, many prayers for a profound encounter with the crucified and risen Christ.

Virtually all Catholics know (or should know) that they are to fast tomorrow, on Good Friday. Most churches are pretty good about spelling out what exactly is expected, i.e., what the minimum for healthy people should entail. But I sometimes think that folks either a) think that the minimum is the recommended, or b) just don't know how much can be gained by an even more radical fast. If it's not too late this year, you might consider doing something differently with your fast, maybe something more devotional.

It all has to be done in the right spirit, though. At times I have approached fasting in the spirit of, "Let's see how well my body holds up," and of course this is a very counterproductive way to go about it. One ends up focusing unduly on the superficial physical discomfort, such that it distracts you from the attention one should be giving to God.

But especially if you've practiced going without food for a particular period of time, such as a full day, you'll know how your body will react and it won't be such a preoccupation. Then all you need is a desire to unite yourself with Christ who fasted and prayed in the desert.

You will be free to enjoy the very practical benefits. Time otherwise spent on food preparation and consumption can be spent on getting Godly things done - simple things you've been meaning to do, like saying the Rosary. You'll be liberated from a possibly humdrum daily schedule and may gain some insights into a better way of going about your business. And I have been surprised to learn how much energy can be saved by not having to digest excessive amounts of food. It always takes energy to get energy, and I think most people still feel fairly energetic after even a full day of fasting from solid food.

It's true what they say: that fasting is a bodily prayer. According to an old reading of a certain part of the Gospel, Jesus says certain demons can be cast out only through prayer AND fasting. Fasting is a way of praying that goes beyond words and thoughts, so it would seem to avail of more spiritual benefits, at least when combined with prayer of the more conventional kind. It's certainly not something we're all called to do in an extreme way, but as long as we are reasonably healthy we are all supposed to at least give it a serious try.

And if growing closer to God is not enough, it will make that food the next day taste so much better! (Just don't overdo it!)

What have you learned from fasting? Any words of encouragement/caution/experience?