Hans Urs von Balthasar's Threefold Garland

If you have not read this little book, let me highly recommend it. I am slowly reading and re-reading the chapters covering the sorrowful mysteries during Lent and am amazed at the depth of Balthasar's thought. The book considers the fifteen mysteries of the Rosary - meditations on Christ's birth, death, and resurrection; and meditations on the Mother of God - and, while approachable, is theological meat from beginning to end. (Licit even on a Friday in Lent.) More later, I hope.

Simon Bears the Cross with Jesus

As I pray the Rosary, I add certain relative clauses in order to help me meditate on the particular mystery of the decade I am reciting. So an Ave would run as follows for the fourth sorrowful mystery: "Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with thee. Blessed art thou among women and blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus, who bore the heavy cross for us. Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners, now and at the hour of our death. Amen." (The words in italic, of course, being the added relative clause.)

Adding these clauses aren't my idea or invention, but have been around for centuries. (Read von Balthasar's Threefold Garland for more - it's a phenomenal little book.) I have been thinking about this particular clause, "Who bore the heavy cross for us," as I meditate on the sorrowful mysteries of the most holy Rosary. Whenever I say it, or hear or read the story of Jesus' bearing the cross, I am always, and always have been, struck immediately with a qualification - something ridiculous along the lines of "with Simon of Cyrene." But this involuntary (literalist crazy) qualification strikes me as constitutive to our Christian life. Simon bears the cross with Jesus for a purpose. Ultimately God goes before us, bears us, encircles us with his grace so that it is He who acts. But I also act.

"Good works" is not a dirty word, not heresy unless I believe that it is my good works - outside and apart from Christ's work - that reconcile me to God. (There are variations of the heresy.) I cannot act righteously without God's grace. But God's grace is always present for good works. Always. Sometimes I don't allow it to work in me. (The permission itself is an act of grace. All is grace.) But God has given us human persons the dignity of freedom to respond in step with the Spirit or to quench the Spirit.

God invites us to work with him, by his grace, that we might, working with him, redeem all of creation. That we might, by his grace, do greater things than he himself did. (I don't understand this word of Christ, but believe that each of us - and not simply the Church entire - is called to these "greater works" since the Greek uses the singular "you" rather than the plural. Though it is still only by his grace.) This is not because Christ doesn't cut it or that the Father needs help, but because we are invited to participate in his Divine Life. This is conversion. This is salvation. We become - we must become - by grace, all that Christ is by nature.

Glory to God for all things.

To Jesus, Through Mary?

I could honestly use some help with my Marian devotion. Simple explanations? I've read a book of articles written by Balthasar and Ratzinger about Mary as the Source of the Church and I just received some books on the Rosary (Balthasar's Threefold Garland and St. Louis de Montfort's The Secret of the Rosary) as well as a book by St. Louis de Montfort, True Devotion to Mary. But I just don't understand the "to Jesus, through Mary" thing. And St. Louis de Montfort's language sometimes pulls amens from me and at other times his language about Mary makes me squirm. I'm still only beginning Montfort's True Devotion to Mary so perhaps I simply need to give him the time to better explain. But I feel dense here. Like he keeps talking and his words are just bouncing off of stone walls (i.e. my head).

The thing is, I love the Rosary and I love the place that Mary has in our Church - I suppose my trouble is with St. Louis's understanding of Mary's place in our Church and lives. I'm not saying he's wrong or even that he has a different understanding than the the teaching of the Church. I just don't comprehend it yet - I don't get it. So pray for me. I think I'll be discussing the matter with my priest as well, but any suggestions or explanations you could provide, I'd appreciate. Perhaps I've been too general here to garner any specific response.

Maybe I could put it this way best: I understand the hows and whys of Marian doctrine, but cannot wrap my head/heart around Marian devotion. Maybe that seems schizophrenic, maybe it is. Maybe it's simply hardness of heart. Maybe it's some vestigial Evangelical theology in my brain. I don't know. But that's kind of where I am right now. Any help?

Update: My terminology is most likely skunked on this issue, but I'm just trying to figure out what's going on in my head and heart and Church. I understand Marian devotion - as much as that I pray the Rosary and other Marian prayers and continue to grow in love of our holy Mother. What I struggle with is the idea of, as St. Louis de Montfort, that seems to make Mary a necessary mediator to Jesus. I can understand a love for Mary and a desire to be close with her, but I don't understand the seeming stern necessity that Montfort makes of devotion to Mary.

And either I don't understand Montfort or I don't understand the Church, but Montfort seems to reinforce the typical misunderstandings of Protestants concerning Marian devotion - not to the extent of worship - but a Marian devotion, fervor, that seems absent to me in the writings and concerns of the early Fathers.

Totus Tuus makes some sense to me, but Montfort does not. Does that make any sense to anyone familiar with these things? Can anyone help me with sorting this out?

Update on the Update: I think I'm beginning to see the light on some of this, thanks to the introduction to and writing of Balthasar in The Threefold Garland. I can understand it more easily through the lens of an icon like the "Panagia" (icon shown) and how the Orthodox and Eastern Catholics speak of the Theotokos. I'm not sure I still understand the expression of "to Jesus, through Mary," but I might be beginning to grasp the mind and heart behind it. The Rosary itself is a kind of "panagia" in words, in prayer.

Rosaries

I have an old Rosary that used to belong to my dad. It breaks a lot. I love praying with it, but even last night as I took it to bed, somehow one of the hoops pulled free and I had to set it aside until the morning when I could get out my needle-nose pliers to fix it.

I also have an Orthodox prayer rope that, as I requested it to be made, has beads between every ten knots - a 50-knot prayer rope that also serves nicely as a Rosary (without the introductory beads). I use it to pray the Rosary or the Jesus Prayer or any prayer, such as lectio, where I repeat the prayer. I hesitate to say "count" because it's not counting so much as tracking where I am, especially with a devotion such as the Rosary.

Anyway, all that information to say that I use the prayer rope most of the time - it's what it is with me now, and since it's knotted wool, it's sturdy as I'd like. My question is, do they make Rosaries that are of sterner stuff? I'm looking for something I can carry about with me 24/7, but has more the feel of a Rosary. Quite honestly, I'm perfectly content with my Orthodox prayer rope, retrofitted for my Marian devotion. But I do like the way the Rosary hangs upon my fingers. Sometimes I simply prefer the heft of it. Any suggestions?

Love Is from God

From The Paradise of the Desert Fathers:

Sayings:

The old men used to say, "there is nothing worse than passing judgment."

They said of abba Macarius that he became, as it is written, a god upon earth, because just as God protects the world, so abba Macarius would cover the faults that he saw as though he did not see them, and those which he heard as though he did not hear them.

Abba Pastor said, "Judge not him who is guilty of fornication, if you are chaste, or you will break the law like him. For He who said 'Do not commit fornication' said also 'Do not judge.' "

A brother asked abba Poemen, "If I see my brother sin, is it right to say nothing about it?" The old man replied, "Whenever we cover our brother's sin, God will cover ours; whenever we tell people about our brother's guilt, God will do the same about ours."

Stories:

A brother in Scetis committed a fault. A council was called to which abba Moses was invited, but he refused to go to it. Then the priest sent someone to him, saying, "Come, for everyone is waiting for you." So he got up and went. He took a leaking jug and filled it with water and carried it with him. The others came out to meet him and said, "What is this, father?" The old man said to them, "My sins run out behind me, and I do not see them, and today I am coming to judge the errors of another." When they heard that, they said no more to the brother but forgave him.

A brother sinned and the priest ordered him to go out of the church; abba Bessarion got up and went out with him, saying, "I, too, am a sinner."

When I first read the Desert Fathers, I kept running up against this teaching. At first, I kept my reservations about it. Milquetoast, I thought. A spade ought to be called a spade. In the course of time, I have begun - and only just begun - to realize that this teaching is, perhaps, central to what it means to me to be Christian. Because a refusal to judge springs out of a heart of love. And a refusal to judge springs out of the recognition of one's own sinfulness before God, one's recognition of one's own forgiveness. And my sin is great. My need for God leaves me breathless before Him, without legs, casts me upon his greater grace and love.

I know less each passing day. I have learned that I don't love well. I would grind my teeth in darkness and utter solitude - that is what is in my heart, and it draws at me constantly. And that is hell. When I first heard the Fatima prayer within the Rosary, I was unsettled by its talk of hell: "O my Jesus, forgive us our sins, save us from the fires of hell, bring all souls to heaven, especially those in most need of Thy mercy." I'm not big on hellfire or, for that matter, brimstone. But as I submitted myself to the practice of the Church, I began to realize something about me and about this prayer. When I pray O My Jesus, I am asking Jesus to rescue me not from some eternal damnation that will come one day if I embrace death rather than life, but I am asking him to rescue me from the hell within my heart, that is there each moment of every day, that threatens to engulf me. That is the recognition that I'm coming to understand: Heaven and hell are within my heart.

Neither science nor bad theology makes me doubt God. The thing that makes me doubt God, when I doubt Him, is those who claim Him. Those who would tear down everything and everyone that they might be taller. I read, I listen. I hear such terrible judgments pronounced. I see personhood overrun by ideology and pride. Where is love? There is God. So I must slap my hand over my mouth - because I am that man, that woman, who curses God in my neighbor and who engenders doubt within my own heart and countless others.

People are people. More than that, we are persons. We have such hidden hurts that are run over roughshod by those who ought to, should, must, need to know and behave better. But then, they have their own hurts, their own pain. Love is a better balm than judgment. "Beloved," says the Evangelist, "let us love one another."

Some Stuff

Life is funny. Just when I start getting interesting in pipe smoking, it possibly turns to dirt. The last couple of mornings after smoking, I've woken up with a monster migraine. I'm not certain the two are causally related, but it's likely. For me, it simply doesn't take much of a change in environment to trigger a headache. And that reaction from my body just makes me sad. I like the ritual of the pipe - the quiet of it, its spirituality. I'm going to give it a few more shots, but if the headaches, such severe headaches, continue on subsequent mornings, then this sordid affair, though passionate, will be short-lived.

On Fresh Air today (NPR), Terry Gross interviewed Ron Hansen, author of The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford and who has just released a new historical fiction book on the life of Gerard Manley Hopkins (one of my most favorite of poets). Mr. Hansen is a deacon in the Catholic Church and Hopkins was a convert to the Catholic Church, who became a Jesuit priest and whose poetry was all published posthumously. This is my kind of book. It's titled Exiles and I think it's going to my Father's Day gift to myself. (Happy Father's Day to me! Happy Father's Day to me!)

Speaking of books, today the UPS man brought a gargantuan box of the complete works of Shakespeare, hardcovers all, 38 books total. The offer was through Amazon and published by the Penguin Group. All for $60 (that's $1.58 per play). A splurge on my part, but I couldn't resist. ("Happy Father's Day to you!" sings my wife. "Happy Father's Day to you!")

I lost my Rosary and am quite frustrated about it (truth be told, I'm cussing mad). I had it sitting on the night stand next to my bed and two days ago it came up missing. I checked with the local pack rat (yellow-haired), but she doesn't seem to have it. No one has seen it. I've checked under and in the bed and in all the pockets of shorts and jeans I've worn and I can't find it. It really bothers me. My dad gave me this Rosary, one that he had from ages past and I've enjoyed praying with it. Say a quick prayer for me that I'll find it, if you would, since I obviously can't pray without it.

Morning Demons

It was a busy weekend, though good. I'm tired. And I woke up this morning nursing a grievance from the night before. Not the best way to kick off a new day. I walked, praying the Rosary. I showered, dressed, and sat down with a cup of coffee as the sun rose. I decided to open up the Magnificat for more prayer and readings, since I still felt so desperate for it, only to read about "morning demons" and, well, nursing grievances from the night before.

The light of Christ dawns on us, it breaks fresh upon us each day. The Spirit of God pursues you and me earnestly and with great love. Pray that I might better receive his grace this morning and be filled with peace and hope, rather than hurt and anger.

Marian Devotion: The Rosary, III

Let's examine the Ave Maria itself, that which makes it distinctively Marian:

Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with thee.

The first line of the Hail Mary with the addition of "Mary" is Scripture (Luke 1.28), as are the next two clauses with the addition of "Jesus."

Blessed art thou among women, and blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus (Luke 1.42).

In the first half of the Ave Maria, we are simply praying the Scriptures - what was said by St Gabriel the Archangel and by St Elizabeth, who spoke filled with the Holy Spirit.

Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners, now and at the hour of our death.

As I've already discussed the idea of praying to Mary, I won't reiterate our reasons here. Instead let's deal with calling Mary "holy" and calling her the "Mother of God." All of us in Christ, St Paul calls "holy ones," or saints. In Christ, there is a certain sense of this. The Church also differentiates those who have led exemplary lives as Saints. There are requirements that must be met before these men and women can be canonized as such. But, ultimately, the idea is that the Church recognizes these people as holy, standing in the presence of God. Their intercession therefore is powerful and effective (James 5.16).

Of all the Saints, Mary is our ideal - she is the prototype of what we all may be (though she is unique in other ways) and there is no question whether she is holy. If Scripture commands that we be holy (1 Peter 1.16), then certainly Mary is holy.

Mary is also called Theotokos (God-bearer, literally), or Mother of God. I've already gone into the explanation of this title. But here it is again: If Mary is not the Mother of God, then Jesus is not God. And I do not wish to go there.

(Interestingly, the title Theotokos came about at the Council of Ephesus in A.D. 431. The debate was a christological debate and it concerned whether Mary should be called Christotokos [Christ-bearer, as the mother of merely Jesus' humanity] or Theotokos. The Council decided that to call her merely Christotokos rather than Theotokos would be to separate his inseparable natures.)

That is the Ave Maria - the heart of the Rosary. There is nothing in it that ought to offend. Let me deal next with the Salve Regina (Hail Holy Queen), which is the prayer that normally concludes the Rosary, and which might also offend.

I do not normally pray the Salve Regina for a practical reason more than anything theological - I simply have not memorized the prayer as of yet. I'm still struggling to disentangle the Apostles' and the Nicene Creeds. So be patient with me.

But let's look at it before discussing the concepts of repetitive and meditative prayers.

Salve Regina

Hail, Holy Queen, Mother of Mercy,
our life, our sweetness and our hope.
To you do we cry,
poor banished children of Eve.
To you do we send up our sighs,
mourning and weeping in this valley of tears
Turn then, most gracious advocate,
your eyes of mercy toward us,
and after this exile
show unto us the blessed fruit of thy womb, Jesus.
O clement, O loving,
O sweet Virgin Mary.

I will not spend a lot of time defending this prayer. Mainly because I see nothing offensive about it if you read "advocate" primarily as "intercessor," which I do. The only problem I see anyone having with this prayer is the title "Holy Queen" - if we set aside the whole idea of praying to someone other than God, of course.

Mary is our queen because she is the real mother of the real King. She is the queen mother, as it were. Just as Bathsheba was the queen mother of Solomon and interceded or advocated for others to her son Solomon. She is not queen in the sense that she is divine or on an equal footing with the Blessed Trinity. The Church in no way teaches or condones this belief. The Church calls such an idea or practice idolatry.

We must understand Mary properly. We do not worship her. But we respect her more highly than any other creature. The Greek words differentiate our feelings and practices quite adequately: Latria is adoration and is reserved for God alone. Dulia is respect. I show my parents dulia, I show kings and presidents dulia, I show all the Saints dulia. Hyperdulia, (or great respect) however, a universe below what we consider worship (latria), is reserved for Mary. And as the Mother of God, such respect is due her. It is because of her Yes that God became man. All others throughout history have born witness to Christ, but she actually bore him. And as His Throne, she bears Him still. It is right to call her Theotokos, or God-bearer.

I will attempt to address the repetitive and meditative aspects of prayer this prayer in the next post.

Marian Devotion: The Rosary, II

The foremost resistance to Marian prayer, or to praying to the Saints in general, is the idea of our prayers being directed to someone other than God. I understand this hesitancy since, for many, prayer is only a Godward activity. And while I agree that prayer is primarily a Godward activity, the Church correctly views prayer as entreaty. And one can entreat both God and man.

Others can and do intercede for us. Indeed, Samuel says, "far be it from me that I should sin against the Lord by ceasing to pray for you" (1 Sam 12.23). The Lord's Prayer is a prayer of and for community - a prayer of and for "us." And so we go to our mother and father, brother and sister, friend and neighbor, and pastor and ask them to pray for us. We ask them to intercede for us. Is their mediation on our behalf, is our request for their mediation, sinful or idolatrous? Of course not. Does our request for their intercession preclude our going also directly to Christ? Of course not.

And so it is with the Blessed Virgin Mary, the Apostles, and the Saints - they are not dead, but gloriously alive. They are not deaf and dumb and lame, but gloriously aware and active. We believe in the communion of saints: past and present, militant and victorious, on earth and in heaven. We believe they can and do pray for us and because of this, we ask it of them.

A common objection to prayers to Saints is our inability to figure out the How of it - How do they hear our prayers along with millions of others? How do they manage? And my answer to that question is that I don't know. But I also do not know what it means to be glorified, to be holy, to perfectly partake of the divine nature. Yet it is so. And the Church has always professed it to be so. I have no reason to doubt her authority, who also, carried along by the Holy Spirit, gave me the Scriptures.

Mary holds a special place for the Church because she is our Mother - Christ gave her to us and us to her at the cross (John 19.26,27). She is also the Mother of God, the Theotokos (God-bearer). This title does not imply that she is the Mother of the Father, but as my five year old, Anna, said, "Mary gave Jesus a birthday." The simplicity and profundity of Anna's statement is spot on. She is the Mother of God because Jesus is God the Son, and her Yes allowed Him to be born. His humanity is from her, just as mine is from my parents.

And so we pray to Mary, though, of course, not exclusively. She is not the mediator between God and Man - Christ is. But she mediates for us, in an intercessory sense, just as my earthly mother mediates for me, but more greatly and more profoundly. She acts as she acted at the wedding at Cana, bringing our needs (They have no wine) before Jesus, and instructing us, the Church (Do whatever He tells you).

I pray to God, of course - daily, hourly, moment by moment. And within the Rosary itself we praise the Trinity, pray to the Father, and cry out to Jesus.

Marian Devotion: The Rosary, I

The Rosary is a Marian prayer that is centered around Christ and is, as Pope John Paul II said, a compendium of the gospel. The Hail Mary (Ave Maria), which is the bulk of the Rosary, and the Hail Holy Queen (Salve Regina), which concludes the Rosary, set the prayer apart as Marian. But what makes it a compendium of the gospel? Or Christocentric?

Let me share with you, in a series of posts, how and why I pray the Rosary. I am only a beginner, and I am still struggling with praying and learning this wonderful devotion. Indeed, there are many of you out there who could teach me a great deal about the prayer, and I pray that you do.

In this first post, let me give a brief overview of how the Rosary is prayed. There are variations, of course, but in general it is prayed as follows.

• We sign ourselves with the cross, beginning our prayers in the name of the Blessed Trinity.

• We then recite the Apostles' Creed. This ancient creed is a summary of our faith, our baptismal creed, and all Christians accept it, though some play with the definitions of certain words.

• The Our Father, or The Lord's Prayer, follows the creed.

• Following the Our Father, we pray three Ave Marias. (We pray: "Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with thee. Blessed art thou among women, and blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus. Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners, now and at the hour of our death. Amen.") From my understanding, these three Ave Marias represent faith, hope, and love - that which makes us Christian.

• The Glory Be follows. We pray: "Glory be to the Father, to the Son, and to the Holy Spirit, as it was in the beginning, is now, and ever shall be, world without end. Amen."

• We then begin our five decades (sets of ten beads), which are true meditations on five mysteries. I'll explain in detail what these mysteries are later.

  For now, let me give a brief example of the mysteries upon which we meditate. Today is Wednesday - the Glorious Mysteries. The first glorious mystery is the resurrection of our Lord. During the first decade (set of ten) of Ave Marias, we meditate on the resurrection of Christ.

  So before each decade, we announce the mystery on which we'll be meditating - and this is where the "compendium of the gospel" truly gets rolling, as well as the Rosary being a Christocentric prayer - and begin with an Our Father.

  It is important to remember that the Rosary is a prayer of meditation: As we pray, we meditate on five mysteries surrounding the life of Christ (revealing the Mystery, Christ).

So what makes you uncomfortable about praying the Rosary and why? Most of your questions and reservations, I have probably felt for myself. I plan to try to answer them in the subsequent posts, though I will be happy to have a conversation with you about your questions or objections at any time.

For more information: How to Pray the Rosary.

Peace.