It’s a high feast day, a solemnity. It’s the Feast of the Immaculate Conception!
It’s a very big feast and a happy great day. I’m happy for it! I love Mary and I love this feast. So, don’t forget your Blessed Mother today, she’s a gift to us all. I’m so grateful.
God gave her his help from the dawning of her days; the Most High has made his dwelling place a holy temple
Pray for us, most Sorrowful Virgin, That we may be made worthy
of the promises of Christ.
Happy May! Thank goodness, it’s May! Now, for us Catholics, May is the month of honoring Mary as the Mother of God, indeed, as our mother too. It’s the month for remembering we have a role model and someone who really “gets it.”
As we all should, it’s the month to tell your mom you love her and to just give her a break and treat each other well. So, to that end, we have the annual video put out by the May Feelings folks, drawn from the witness of Pope John Paul II and his encouragement to youth the world over to go out and be a light in this world.
We are all so connected, more than we realize, even with the pervasive reach of social media. We need each other, it’s our greatest gift: connection, caring. Mind your mom:
It’s the Feast of the Presentation today! Also known as Candlemass.
Oh my. This day, this feast has such resonance for me, this year. I’m not sure I can even write it; not fully or well enough. It’s almost, almost, a little kick in my chest at the same time as a soft smile.
Rembrandt: "Simeon with the Christ Child"
But……this feast is when we remember, liturgically in our Catholic church, but also in our prayers and hearts, how Mary took her son, her baby, to the temple. She was dutifully fulfilling her obligation, as all good Jewish moms did, to present her baby boy to the temple elders. Little did she know what prophecy she was gonna run smack into. Little did she know she’d run into Simeon, Anna, and their words. And I’m guessing she was just gobsmacked by it all. I would’a been. I would have been really rattled. But, then again, I’m just me. I’m figuring she was held up by a waterfall of grace and maybe a few guardian angels to keep her on her feet and find her breath.
There is so much to this event, this feast. Go, read.
But this is where it gets a little personal. Because, this year, I’ve spent, well, the past year, mulling over this entire concept: presenting. Presenting my son to the Lord. Because that’s what I did. I know, I know, ya’ll will shout at me and say, um, “HE chose this, not you.” “I KNOW Mary, and you Ma’am, are NO Mary.” “I know Jesus, and I know your son Chris, and he is not Jesus.” I know. Shhh. Stop shouting and pointing. I’m NOT saying that.
What I’m saying is that I, a regular old mom, literally took my son, my firstborn, and presented him back to the the Lord. I hugged him tight. I shook hands with the other priests and novices and hugged them as I choked back tears and yet they welled behind my sunglasses. I watched his father hoist his few chosen possessions out of our car and into waiting helping hands. I stood aside as I watched him, getting edgy, wait to hug his dad, me. I watched him hug his dad goodbye.
The tears overflowed, I bowed my head. I hugged him tight, kissed him, crossed his forehead, again. Pressed my cheek to his and then gave him a weak smile as his dad and I grabbed hands and turned to go; letting him go. I felt that pierce of my heart. Even as I felt that swell of love too, knowing that he was going to God and to answer his call.
I let him go. That’s what presenting is, isn’t it? In many ways, I think so. You present and let go. You don’t present something and wrap it up tight and keep it hidden away. You present it and let go. Open your hands. Let go. We miss him so. Some days more than others. But it’s also a great joy to see him happy and taking on a whole new mantle, add a layer to who he is and who he is becoming. But, my hands are open now; having presented him, I love him, but let go.
So. It’s a gift this feast. For me, I can unwrap this gift in a new and fuller and more meaningful poignant way than ever before. Even more so than last year, when I knew, I knew, this presentation was approaching. Now I have done it. I am not Mary. My son is just my boy, my dear son, now a man. But. Just as any family can model in a tiny fractionated shadowy way the truths in our faith and life, so to can my messy family in our teeny way. So, today, I get a gift of remembering that other mothers, so many, have given their child back to God. The Blessed Mother did it, not only because it was prophesied …. but perhaps so we could have the courage to do so as well.
Today I am grateful for this feast. It means so much. To us all, yes. But, oh, so much, to me.
Pray for us, most Sorrowful Virgin, That we may be made worthy
of the promises of Christ.
Today is the Feast of the Visitation!
I saw this in the Uffizi, one of my fav's
That means that today we celebrate and remember when Mary went to her cousin Elizabeth, who was pregnant with the soon to be born John the Baptist. I love this image, I love this whole concept. It’s one of my favorite mysteries of the rosary….and I’ve wondered why it speaks to me so. But I think, really, it’s that whole connection thing, once again.
The connections that we make, especially we women, are so important. They mean everything, in a way. It took me a long time to get there, way past the awkward high school years and the striving driven, boyfriend focused, college years. But as I’ve grown older and into the woman I am now in middle age and hopefully was meant to be (mostly), I have grown also into some of the richest relationships: friendships with women. My girl friends are such a support; even the virtual ones through email, phones, and blogging…the support gained and given through these friendships with other women give me such strength. They have pulled me out of deepest indigo blues, they have encouraged me forward in burnout and despair, they have brainstormed with me in mom dilemmas, they have brightened days with a good laugh. They have called me out from my selfishness, they have told me when the swimsuit is just too tired and for pity’s sake go buy a new one. They have listened to me vent and cry and rage and brag; saved my marriage a few times and my child’s backside as well. They are generous, genious, kind, caring, prayerful gals…..and I hope and pray I have returned the favor more than once and can continue to. In person, blog, email or phone, it all counts.
I think that is why I love this feast so. Mary did it first. She found out she was with child, and in her first trimester she journeyed to her cousin. Now, we all know what that first trimester is like: such exhaustion, illness, hunger, sleepy fatigue. And Mary set out on a long journey to be with her dear friend, her cousin. She didn’t get to hop in her comfy BMW, she had to walk or use the donkey. I would’a griped about traveling in my comfy Honda (oh, right I think I did, way back when I was in first trimester’s. oops). But she went. She went to help, not to get her own comfort, but to help. Because Elizabeth was older and was in the end (third trimester?) of her pregnancy. We all know what that’s like too: exhausted, feeling big as a whale, swollen, uncomfortable, maybe a tad irritable, just…done. So, Mary went to help. And they embraced when they met, like friends/family who miss each other do. And Elizabeth blurted out “Who am I that the mother of my Lord comes to me?” She didn’t say, “Mary! Wow, what a surprise, what are you doing here?” and start fretting about if she had enough kefir or whatever to add to lunch or if the house was clean. No, she instantly felt the baby flip around and she had those words out, I suspect, before she even really understood them, fully. That’s how it works, I think. It’s all grace. This feast is all about the grace and we see it in that painting, up there, one of my favorites.
Our friendships, the support we women give each other is unlike anything else. And it is all grace. It really is, when it’s good. We can undermine each other like nobody’s business if we choose. But when we choose to give, it’s like nothing else….except, like Mary..and Elizabeth. And that, just that, is why I love this feast day. It’s a feast about connections and grace and giving. It’s a girl feast. Because we rock and we do this better than anyone; when we open ourselves to this grace. Mary and Elizabeth did, so long ago. They show us the way, even now.
Another Espresso, Please 