When Mothers Arise

IMG_4465Each year on this day Catholics all over the world remember the Assumption of the Blessed Virgin Mary, the day she was taken body and soul into heaven at the end of her earthly life. In years past, some families feasted on raspberry shortcake and adorn their statues with rose garlands. Others decorated balloons with images of the Blessed Mother, and launched them heavenward.

Sadly, this isn’t a year for such celebrations. The most recent news reports outlining the depravity of some very bad men at the highest level of the Church has traumatized the Catholic community. The outraged responses are wholly understandable and natural. Sadly, all the outrage in the world is not going to fix this problem.

Last night I attended the vigil Mass at Queen of Peace, delighted to see both my children singing in the choir — something they had reluctantly agreed to after I told them it was the only birthday present I wanted this year. Even so, they grumbled … but they went. As I watched them that night, I was reminded again of the great influence women hold in the lives of their families to inspire goodness in their children.

I also thought about the redemptive power of a mother’s love to make wrongs right, and to guide her children to repentance. While we were in Rwanda, attending an open-air Mass, during communion the religious sisters in front of us left their seats to distribute the consecrated hosts. During that time, a man came and swiped this sister’s purse (pictured above) and tried to make off with it … and was promptly taken into custody by vigilant security. At first he glared about him, defiant. Then, when the sister returned and learned what had happened, she said not a word. She just turned and looked at the man full in the face. He crumbled into a chair and covered his face. Then she sat beside him and began speaking gently to him. (I don’t know what was said — she was speaking in Kinyarwanda). As he was being led away, I thought about the way her mother’s heart had touched him and inspired him to recognize and regret the wrong he had done.

I don’t know exactly how this applies to our current crisis, except to say that a mother’s heart is a powerful force for change. Frankly, I don’t know if it is even possible to exact true justice through the judicial system we have today … I sincerely doubt it, based on our own experiences with the juvenile justice system (ironically, in Pennsylvania). What I do know is that true repentance and conversion is possible only in hearts that are open and unguarded, who love God more than they love themselves. Men who love their Mother enough to be willing to endure any trial in service to her. If there is going to be true change in the hearts of those who lead our Church, it will come only as they are drawn once more to fall in love with God, and with their Blessed Mother. That is where they will find the strength to do what must be done … and to stay the course.

My friends, as we continue to pray for God’s will in this ongoing battle for the souls of both perpetrators and their victims, on this day of the Assumption I will be praying that the love of Our Blessed Mother will arise and blanket the earth afresh, and that we will all find the courage and humility to seek not simply justice, but true healing and reconciliation. Our Lord promised that the gates of hell will not prevail against his Church. We must remember that those gates swing both ways — and that the forces of destruction can come from without as well as from within. Lord willing, so will the forces of healing and reconciliation.

Our Lady of the Assumption, Arise! Spread your mantle of love over us, and pray for us, that we will soon be able to proclaim the Good News with pure and loving hearts. Amen.

“Am I not your mother?” The pressing question of Our Lady of Guadalupe


This photo of Basilica de Santa Maria de Guadalupe is courtesy of TripAdvisor.

Today Catholics all over the world celebrate the feast day of Our Lady of Guadalupe, the appearances of the Blessed Mother to a poor Indian named Juan Diego shortly after the fall of the Aztec capitol city of Tenochtitlan to Cortez in 1521. Four times she appeared to him, dressed as a pregnant Aztec maiden, calling him her “son” and sending him to the bishop in Mexico City, where she wanted a shrine built.

“My dear little son, I love you. I desire you to know who I am. I am the Ever-Virgin Mary, Mother of the true God who gives life and maintains its existence. He created all things. He is in all places. He is Lord of Heaven and Earth. I desire a church in this place where your people may experience my compassion…”

Reluctantly, he eventually went — but the bishop did not immediately believe him. Returning to the hill where he first met the Lady, he found her waiting for him. Her first words ring down to us through the ages …

“My little son, am I not your Mother? Do not fear.”

Instructing him to gather the roses that had suddenly sprung up on the hillside (out of season), she sent him back to the vision. And when the poor man opened his mantle, the roses had imprinted a miraculous image — and the original tilma with the image has survived centuries of devotion, still on display behind the altar, perfectly preserved, at the basilica.

“Am I not your mother?” This question has new meaning for me right now. I recently started caring for my elderly mother, whose mind is burdened with dementia. There are some times when we don’t know how to reach each other, even while looking right into each other’s eyes. It’s a question I find myself repeating, over and over: “Is this not my mother?”

She is. And yet, not the mother I’ve always known. In fact, some days I think that the mantle has passed from her shoulders to mine.

I wonder, Juan Diego, if you ever looked into the eyes of that Lady and wondered yourself. “Who is this person? And what does she want from me that I haven’t already done? When will she be satisfied?” I understand, more than ever, the desire to escape, to go around the other way. Then, in a flash, I see her again, and I feel a little ashamed of myself. How could I NOT see that she is, indeed, my own?

I will not fear. For she is with me. And so, my Lord, are you.

Our Lady, Queen of Peace

Queen of PeaceToday was the annual PeaceFest at our parish, and Bishop Rhoades was the homilist at the event. He mentioned that this year marks the centennial not just of the apparitions at Fatima, but also the year the mother of Jesus came to be known as “Queen of Peace.” In his book, The Life of Pope Benedict XV, Walter Peters notes: “On May 5,1917, he decreed that the invocation, ‘Queen of peace,’ be added to the Litany of the Blessed Virgin Mary.”  [pp. 224-225]

This fascinating icon, which I found on the Villanova University website, was written by Father Richard G. Cannuli. It depicts a woman of Middle Eastern origins, reminding us that Mary is revered by both the Christian and Muslim traditions (the Qaran refers to her as “Maryam”). And so it is fitting to ask her to pray for peace in the world for all her children. But in these recent weeks, I’ve found myself thinking about her more and more often, wondering what she would say to us about the pathway to peace even within our own land.

During her own lifetime, the Holy Land was a hotbed of political unrest; zealots and Romans and simple families like her own just trying to survive in a climate often full of conflict and tension. As she saw her own son begin his public ministry, how she must have prayed as she saw him get drawn into the political turmoil. Where did she find peace, at such a time as that?

As I watch my own children grow older, and their own lives erupt in conflict and confusion, the temptation is to rush into the middle of it, trying to solve their problems for them, trying to make them choose prudence. But at 15 and 17, that isn’t always going to happen. And so, when I cannot protect them … Mother Mary, stay close by, and pray for us all. Give us the peace that comes from knowing One who is never surprised by anything we do, loves us just the same.

The Mother Who Opens Her Arms: On the Feast of the Assumption

Recently I found this post over at Theresa Whitfield’s blog, listing an impressive number of individuals who share one thing in common . . . they were adopted.  Gerald Ford, Faith Hill, Cyrus the Great — all these individuals became who they were because someone cared enough to raise them.

As I write this, the day is winding down. Tomorrow is the Feast of the Assumption — the day when the angels swept Our Lady from her earthly existence and carried her to heaven.  This is the destination of all believers, departing from this world so that we may join our “forever family.”

When we arrive, we will see a long line of loving faces and open arms, ready to receive us. (Sarah frequently expresses the wish that God would let her crawl inside my tummy, like Mary carried Jesus in her tummy.)  The older I get, the longer my list of “must sees” grows. Just as soon as I hug the Blessed Mother, and have her introduce me to her Son. (She always will.)

As we celebrate the homegoing of Jesus’ Mother, may we anticipate the day that we will join her in the company of saints, adopted by God and full members of his family. We have nothing to fear, so long as we do not wander far from those welcoming, comforting arms.

Thanks, Mom! Mary Moments Carnival coming to “Catholic Pondering”

mary momentsAs you may know, the month of May is dedicated to mothers — and for Catholics, it is dedicated in a special way to the Blessed Mother, Mary the mother of Jesus.
Have you written something about Mary that you’d like to share with a wider audience? Head on over to Sarah’s blog at “Just Another Day of Catholic Pondering,” and get connected with “Mr. Linky.” Sarah is a columnist at “Today’s Catholic Woman” on the topic of Mary. This should be a great Carnival. Check it out!
We had been holding something similar at “Behold Your Mother,” but I’ve had so little time lately to keep that one current I’ve encouraged Sarah to bring this monthly tribute to the Blessed Mother over to her blog. At least for the time being, I’m going to give BYM a rest — cause every mother needs a break sometimes!

Mother’s Helper: Guest Post by Allie O. Williams


“Look what we found!” exclaimed our son, Rob. As the oldest & tallest he was the default spokesman, thrusting a muddy mitt in my face, his fist clutching a clay encrusted hunk of plastic. “It’s Mary and I found it,” cried our littlest neighbor Maggie firmly asserting her role. “But it was in our yard,” hollered our daughter, Elizabeth.

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Happy Mother’s Day … to Extraordinary Moms!

This week’s Catholic Carnival is up at “Organ-ic Chemist.” Be sure to check it out!

Every woman on the face of this earth has been called to be one.

Oh, yes … even you.

The job description of an extraordinary mom has a bit of “give” in it, like your favorite pair of jeans. For some, it involves childbirth … many times over. Stretch marks and sore nips and the kind of pain that makes a bad case of cramps seem like a walk in the park.

For some, the call involves sending several children on ahead of you to heaven. Or bearing with courage infertility within marriage or life without a spouse. And yet, even we have been called to spiritual motherhood.
We can be godmothers, adoptive or foster mothers, or favorite aunties that always materialize to relieve exhausted parents at just the right moment.

The only requirement, you see … is a willingness to be open to nurturing life wherever we may find it. To invest ourselves in the lives of other people. To come alongside those who are struggling. And to shine the light of faith so that others might know a truly abundant life.

Extraordinary moms see opportunities to exercise faith where others see deprivation.

We see opportunities to love when others see despair and aggravation.

We see opportunities to hope when others see only what can never be.

Lord, in Your mercy, make me an extraordinary mom.
Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for me that I might be more like you!