totus tuus: day 33

The Virgin of Nazareth became the first “witness” to this saving love of the Father, and she also wishes to remain its humble handmaid always and everywhere.

Pope St. John Paul II, Redemptoris Mater

I’ve been wanting to write for several days, but the only thing I’ve eked out has been some partially coherent dribbling in my journal. This final week of the 33-day consecration to Jesus through Mary, which is called “Knowledge of Jesus”, has been more intense in a way. I think I was hoping to write in order to ease the interior tension I could feel building, even though I couldn’t put my finger on what exactly. Today, the Gospel reading opened the floodgates. From the gospel of John, Mary Magdalene is in the garden weeping after finding the tomb empty, and Jesus calls her by her name. I started weeping—good, solid, necessary tears.

I mentioned this before, but these 33 days of consecration have been very different from what I anticipated. I’m not entirely sure what I was expecting—maybe more of an interior desert, something really difficult, trudging through spiritual mud, getting to Confession with a good, rich, long list of previously unearthed sins… or something like that—and that’s how I would ultimately grow closer to God, by becoming a more pure version of myself, someone more amenable, attractive—someone more lovable.

But it wasn’t like that. It went much deeper than that. I ended up wrestling with one of the most basic truths of following Christ, a primal matter of faith: I am a child of God and He loves me—not because I have done or will do things right, but because I was created by Him and baptized as His own.

That sounds so simple, but integral to the Christian life. After all, how can I fully surrender to Someone of whose love I’m ultimately uncertain?

I really thought I had that down. I mean, I grew up singing “Jesus Loves Me”, and as a child had memorized, “Behold what manner of love the Father has given unto us, that we should be called children of God” (I John 3:1). But maybe there was a sense as a child, and even as a young adult, that I would ultimately become a better person one day, and maybe I would know that by all the amazing missions God would call me to and sufferings He would ask of me. And when the going got tough, and I realized how challenging living a virtuous life could be, I grew discouraged… or something like that. Whatever it was, I don’t think I’ve believed—fully, with all that entails—that God actually does love me unconditionally.

It makes complete sense that this Truth would become clearer and stronger by growing closer to Jesus through Mary. Mary, as daughter of God, spouse of the Holy Spirit, and mother to Our Lord, has experienced the love of God thoroughly and received it humbly. She didn’t just withstand the cross to receive the crown—all of it was a gift to her because she truly embraced God’s love and will for her, first as daughter and handmaid.

On my refrigerator, I have a quote from Love Alone is Credible by Hans Urs von Balthasar, which reads:

Faith is ordered primarily to the inconceivability of God’s love… Love alone is credible; nothing else can be believed, and nothing else ought to be believed… The way God, the lover, sees us is in fact the way we are in reality- for God this is the absolute and irrevocable truth.

This really struck me when I first read it, only a couple months ago. If it had made such an impression on me then, it must have pierced a weak spot. I wouldn’t have known that it would also be a central theme during the consecration.  

Mary’s faith, which we Christians admire so greatly, was complete trust in the inconceivability of God’s love. She believed that she was the person God saw her to be. Otherwise, she wouldn’t have been able to say, “Let it be done unto me according to thy word,” at the annunciation. She would have responded like Moses—“Send someone else, Lord”—or like Peter—“Depart from me Lord, I am a sinner”. She had no vanity; it did not occur to her that God may have made a mistake. She trusted Him, and this is why her cousin Elizabeth said to her, “Blessed is she who has believed.”

Reflecting on all of this is what made me realize that I don’t trust fully in the inconceivability of God’s love for me. It still seems inconceivable a lot of the time. One prayer that I have often prayed throughout my adult life is, Help me Lord to see you as you are, not just what I want you to be. But I’m realizing I also need to pray that God helps me to see myself as He sees me—like the father and the prodigal son, or Jesus with Mary Magdalene in the garden.

totus tuus: day 12

self-gift

I’ve come to the end of the period within the 33 days of consecration known as the “preliminary days”, which concentrate on some of the not-so-basic basics of Christianity, like the persons of the Trinity, divine providence, sin and mercy. I feel like I’ve been putting mental bookmarks into thoughts and ideas along the way, like “ooh, I want to learn more about that” or, “I wonder why THAT was so hard”, some of which I wrote about, a lot of which I kept private.

I mentioned this before, but St. Louis de Montfort’s consecration is nothing like I imagined it to be, but really digs its heels into one’s perception and love of God the Father, God the Son, and God the Holy Spirit. It truly is a consecration to Jesus. It’s humbling in a soul-stripping sort of way, satisfying in a getting-truly-fed sort of way. It’s hard work, and I think it’s going to get harder in the days to come.

What’s becoming increasingly clear, though, is Mary’s role in the consecration, the “why” of growing closer to Jesus through Mary. I’m sure to many Catholics, that’d be followed by a “well, duh”, but I know I’m not alone in the suspicion/curiosity/befuddlement of why Mary has to be involved, and why this would become increasingly clear in contemplating the Trinity.

About a year ago, a friend recommended I read the 20th century Catholic theologian Hans urs von Balthasar, as well as Adrienne von Speyr, a Swiss Catholic writer. Balthasar is a theologian I never knew I always loved. Even though he makes a distinction from theologians and the lover-saints, I think he approaches God as a lover-theologian; he strives to explain mysteries of God with a lover’s heart and theologian’s mind. And Adrienne von Speyr is a feast to read; I started with Handmaid of the Lord, a contemplative insight into the mysteries of Mary’s life. I had to take it in pieces, ponder it, then go back to read more. The timing of having just read (and still reading) these writers is providential as I work through the consecration and draw upon the wisdom and insight of both Balthasar and Speyr.

I imagine I will write more on this, but the most repetitive and potent point right now is the nature of self-gift in both the Trinity and in Mary’s fiat. Balthasar explains the Trinity as an on-going giving and receiving of love. Jesus’ obedience to the Father, therefore, is “essentially love”. Speyr writes, “The grace of our Lord Jesus Christ is given to us only through the self-giving love of God the Father, so that we can participate in the fellowship of the Holy Spirit” (The Holy Mass). And St. John Paul II writes, “In the Holy Spirit the intimate life of the Triune God becomes totally gift, an exchange of mutual love between the Divine Persons” (Dominum et Vivificantem, as quoted by Fr. McMaster in Totus Tuus).

Because of our sinful nature, it is not natural for us to think in terms of self-gift. To give of ourselves is an effort that requires grace. But we were created for self-gift, since we were created in the image of God. Before the fall in Eden, I assume we were able to enter into that giving of self and exchange of mutual love, freely and beautifully. Now by the merits of Christ, we are invited into that exchange, but it is a constant struggle with our sinful nature.

Yet for Mary, who was without original sin by the grace of God, it wasn’t against her nature to act in total self-gift. It is natural for her to give of herself without reservation to God and His will. She unites her will to His; His mission becomes hers; His desires become hers. Even while experiencing great suffering and trials, while watching her Son and Lord be tortured and crucified, she is confident in the good design of the Father. This is why she’s the example to all Christians: “Her obedience is the prototype of every future instance of Christian obedience, which draws its whole meaning from the life of prayer and the perception of God’s will” (Handmaid). Even if Mary’s immaculate-ness (that she was born without original sin) makes you uncomfortable or you don’t believe it, you would have to agree that she followed and carried out God’s will as no one else had before her (or since).

During my life as a Catholic, whenever it has come to Mary, my brain takes a detour; the radius of space around her has slowly slimmed down, but I have been reticent to get much closer. I’ll write more about this later, but at this point, in large part thanks to von Speyr’s comprehensible descriptions of Mary and these first several days of the consecration, I truly do see and completely embrace the why of growing closer to Jesus through Mary. Through her, we learn perfect Christian obedience, perfect surrender, and perfect unity with God’s holy will, which all flows from perfect love.