Three and Then Four?
As
September comes, we look toward the harvest in the fields, and liturgically
toward the fruit the Spirit has coaxed into ripeness in the spiritual gardens
of our souls. We have just celebrated the Transfiguration of the sacred
humanity of Jesus and the Assumption of the humanity of Mary, his mother. Both
of these feasts point to what we ourselves shall be.
As if
the Church is deeply pondering this remarkable revelation, she offers us three
more feasts of the Mother of God in this month: Mary’s birthday on September 8,
the feast of her Holy Name on the 12th, and then the feast of her
Sorrows on the 15th, right after the feast of the Holy Cross. Could
the Church be trying to tell us something as the Sunday readings look for sweet
fruit from us? Then, as though three were not enough, in the earlier calendars
there was a fourth feast of Mary: Our Lady of Ransom on September 24. No longer
on the liturgical calendar, this was the ancient feast of Our Lady of Mercy. It
commemorated her concern for those enslaved, and often set to work as rowers on
slave ships.
I
suggest that this is no coincidence. Mary had a birthday, and so do we. She was
named, and so are we. Her heart was broken in sorrow and grief, and so too is
ours. Finally, in this Year of Mercy, she is still concerned about those of us
enslaved. Whether it be by what we accumulate day by day, what fear paralyzes
us, or what addiction wraps its chains around our will. It is time to look for
the Spirit’s fruit, and we might be surprised at how much there is. We live our
days in swift flow, wondering at times where the time has gone. Yet all the
while the trees of our lives are blossoming and beginning bear the luscious
fruits of kindness, joy, peace, patience, mildness, chastity and more, all
being shaped by those quiet happenings in our unique situations. We often are
all too aware of the fungus. But make no mistake: the fruit is there too. God
brings it forth from the water of our tears and the sonshine of the love of the
Word. So it was with this woman who shows us what we too will be one day. Hail,
Holy Queen, Mother of mercy…our hope. Yes, indeed.
************
Lady,
I bring you my soul’s garden.
Help me clear it of briars and
brambles
that might suffocate the growth
the Spirit’s groaning has tried to
bring forth.
Look upon my poor efforts
and bend down to wipe the sweat
from my brow.
Drive away the grubs of doubt
and the hungry beetles
of self-love that seek to
consume what little I have to offer.
Take me on a tour, and show me
what my tears have watered
From the broken vessel that I
am.
Uncover for me what my humble
prayers have produced
and what my patient suffering
has sweetened.
Show me what you see.
Amen.
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