When I entered the church where La Moreneta, the Black Madonna sits in Monserrat two years ago, I felt someone looking at me as I stood there drinking in the beauty of the interior. Who was looking at me with such intensity in this vast basilica? When I located the gaze, I realized with a shock that it was Our Lady of Monserrat herself. It was such a kairos moment for I remember asking Our Lady what are you asking of me? What does this mean? It is a gaze I have pondered often since. Her photo sits on my bedside table reminding me of that cool September day when she looked at me. I therefore read with delight Pope Francis's recent reflection on Mother Mary's gaze.
Our Lady has been my source of strength and inspiration through the years. She is my hero, my role model as a woman. I sometimes wonder why Catholics are penalized so much for loving her. Surely the mother of Jesus is an extraordinary woman to be admired, as related to us by Saint Luke in his Gospel? The way she lived her entire life, in full obedience, pondering the mysteries and vicissitudes of life and responding always with gentle wisdom is to be imitated.
Mary points us to Jesus, her pride and joy, the child, at once human and divine, who resided in her womb and grew up under her loving guidance, and we fickle and forgetful humans need as many signs and reminders of Jesus and what He did to save us as possible. She also has his ear, as demonstrated by the wedding at Cana, and can intercede on our behalf. My recent devotion to her, through my daily rosary, where I ask for her intercessory help has proven to me how much grace I receive thorough this woman whom Jesus gave to us to be our mother before he expired.
Mother Mary has a special gift of mercy which is empowered through her humility and her free yes to grace. Pope Francis in his reflection to priests* last week calls her the perfect vessel that both receives and bestows mercy. There is much we can learn from her pure and overflowing heart that sees all of history and each individual person with a mother’s mercy.
He talks about the mystery of Mary’s gaze, its tenderness and its sweetness that give us the courage to open our hearts to God’s mercy. I especially like how Pope Francis encourages priests to experience her gaze themselves so that they can, in turn, gaze at people in the same loving, non-judgemental way.
Mary’s gaze makes us feel her maternal embrace. She shows us that “the only power capable of winning human hearts is the tenderness of God. What delights and attracts, humbles and overcomes, opens and unleashes is not the power of instruments or the force of the law, but rather the omnipotent weakness of divine love, which is the irresistible force of its gentleness and the irrevocable pledge of its mercy” (Address to the Mexican Bishops, 13 February 2016).
For Our Lady can remove every “cataract” that prevents them from seeing Christ in people’s souls. She can remove the myopia that fails to see the needs of others, which are the needs of the incarnate Lord, as well as the hyperopia that cannot see the details, “the small print”, where the truly important things are played out in the life of the Church and of the family.
The Pope goes on to say Mary’s gaze is one of complete attention. I can testify to that for the statue of the Black Madonna was so far from me that she was tiny. And yet, I felt her eyes trained on me. It was only in the enlarged image of a photograph I took that I saw it was she who was looking at me. I had her whole attention and I could pour out my heart to her, my fears, hopes and dreams, both uttered and unuttered.
She leaves everything else behind, and is concerned only with the person in front of her. Like a mother, she is all ears for the child who has something to tell her. Like her, we need to be able to "see into people’s suffering and recognize their needs," if not "we will have nothing to offer them. The riches we possess only flow forth when we truly encounter the needs of others, and this encounter take places precisely in our heart.
Pope Francis goes on to talk about Mary’s gaze as “integral”, all-embracing. It brings everything together: our past, our present and our future. It is not fragmented or partial: mercy can see things as a whole and grasp what is most necessary. At Cana, Mary “empathetically” foresaw what the lack of wine in the wedding feast would mean and she asked Jesus to resolve the problem, without anyone noticing.
Out of mercy, Mary sees beforehand the things we lack and provides for them. If there is any “good wine” present in our lives, it is due not to our own merits but to her “anticipated mercy”. In the Magnificat, she proclaims how the Lord “looked with favour on her loneliness” and “remembered his (covenant of) mercy”, a “mercy shown from generation to generation” to the poor and the downtrodden. For Mary, history is mercy.
We can conclude by praying the Salva Regina. The words of this prayer are vibrant with the mystery of the Magnificat. Mary is the Mother of mercy, our life, our sweetness and our hope. Her eyes of mercy are surely the greatest vessel of mercy, for their gaze enables us to drink in that kindness and goodness for which we hunger with a yearning that a look of love alone can satisfy. Her eyes of mercy also enable us to see God’s mercy at work in human history and to find Jesus in the faces of our brothers and sisters. In Mary, we catch a glimpse of the promised land – the Kingdom of mercy established by our Lord – already present in this life beyond the exile into which sin leads us. From her hand and beneath her gaze, we can joyfully proclaim the greatness of the Lord. To Mary we can say:
My soul sings of you, Lord, for you have looked with favour on the lowliness and humility of your servant. How blessed I am, to have been forgiven. Your mercy, Lord, that you showed to your saints and to all your faithful people, you have also shown to me. I was lost, seeking only myself, in the arrogance of my heart, yet I found no glory. My only glory is that your Mother has embraced me, covered me with her mantle, and drawn me to her heart. I want to be loved as one of your little ones. I want to feed with your bread all those who hunger for you.
May we all continue to meditate on the Immaculate Heart of Mary (a feast we celebrated yesterday) and cultivate such a listening and receptive heart ourselves. As for me, I will continue to gaze at her and learn to reflect her gentle, loving maternal instincts to those around me and bring Jesus, her Son to them.
* To read the wonderful second meditation of three, go to: http://en.radiovaticana.va/news/2016/06/02/pope_francis_second_meditation_for_the_retreat_for_priests/1234296. Through our baptism we are called to be priests, so the Pope's reflection holds true for us, too.
Our Lady has been my source of strength and inspiration through the years. She is my hero, my role model as a woman. I sometimes wonder why Catholics are penalized so much for loving her. Surely the mother of Jesus is an extraordinary woman to be admired, as related to us by Saint Luke in his Gospel? The way she lived her entire life, in full obedience, pondering the mysteries and vicissitudes of life and responding always with gentle wisdom is to be imitated.
Mary points us to Jesus, her pride and joy, the child, at once human and divine, who resided in her womb and grew up under her loving guidance, and we fickle and forgetful humans need as many signs and reminders of Jesus and what He did to save us as possible. She also has his ear, as demonstrated by the wedding at Cana, and can intercede on our behalf. My recent devotion to her, through my daily rosary, where I ask for her intercessory help has proven to me how much grace I receive thorough this woman whom Jesus gave to us to be our mother before he expired.
Mother Mary has a special gift of mercy which is empowered through her humility and her free yes to grace. Pope Francis in his reflection to priests* last week calls her the perfect vessel that both receives and bestows mercy. There is much we can learn from her pure and overflowing heart that sees all of history and each individual person with a mother’s mercy.
He talks about the mystery of Mary’s gaze, its tenderness and its sweetness that give us the courage to open our hearts to God’s mercy. I especially like how Pope Francis encourages priests to experience her gaze themselves so that they can, in turn, gaze at people in the same loving, non-judgemental way.
Mary’s gaze makes us feel her maternal embrace. She shows us that “the only power capable of winning human hearts is the tenderness of God. What delights and attracts, humbles and overcomes, opens and unleashes is not the power of instruments or the force of the law, but rather the omnipotent weakness of divine love, which is the irresistible force of its gentleness and the irrevocable pledge of its mercy” (Address to the Mexican Bishops, 13 February 2016).
For Our Lady can remove every “cataract” that prevents them from seeing Christ in people’s souls. She can remove the myopia that fails to see the needs of others, which are the needs of the incarnate Lord, as well as the hyperopia that cannot see the details, “the small print”, where the truly important things are played out in the life of the Church and of the family.
The Pope goes on to say Mary’s gaze is one of complete attention. I can testify to that for the statue of the Black Madonna was so far from me that she was tiny. And yet, I felt her eyes trained on me. It was only in the enlarged image of a photograph I took that I saw it was she who was looking at me. I had her whole attention and I could pour out my heart to her, my fears, hopes and dreams, both uttered and unuttered.
She leaves everything else behind, and is concerned only with the person in front of her. Like a mother, she is all ears for the child who has something to tell her. Like her, we need to be able to "see into people’s suffering and recognize their needs," if not "we will have nothing to offer them. The riches we possess only flow forth when we truly encounter the needs of others, and this encounter take places precisely in our heart.
Pope Francis goes on to talk about Mary’s gaze as “integral”, all-embracing. It brings everything together: our past, our present and our future. It is not fragmented or partial: mercy can see things as a whole and grasp what is most necessary. At Cana, Mary “empathetically” foresaw what the lack of wine in the wedding feast would mean and she asked Jesus to resolve the problem, without anyone noticing.
Out of mercy, Mary sees beforehand the things we lack and provides for them. If there is any “good wine” present in our lives, it is due not to our own merits but to her “anticipated mercy”. In the Magnificat, she proclaims how the Lord “looked with favour on her loneliness” and “remembered his (covenant of) mercy”, a “mercy shown from generation to generation” to the poor and the downtrodden. For Mary, history is mercy.
We can conclude by praying the Salva Regina. The words of this prayer are vibrant with the mystery of the Magnificat. Mary is the Mother of mercy, our life, our sweetness and our hope. Her eyes of mercy are surely the greatest vessel of mercy, for their gaze enables us to drink in that kindness and goodness for which we hunger with a yearning that a look of love alone can satisfy. Her eyes of mercy also enable us to see God’s mercy at work in human history and to find Jesus in the faces of our brothers and sisters. In Mary, we catch a glimpse of the promised land – the Kingdom of mercy established by our Lord – already present in this life beyond the exile into which sin leads us. From her hand and beneath her gaze, we can joyfully proclaim the greatness of the Lord. To Mary we can say:
My soul sings of you, Lord, for you have looked with favour on the lowliness and humility of your servant. How blessed I am, to have been forgiven. Your mercy, Lord, that you showed to your saints and to all your faithful people, you have also shown to me. I was lost, seeking only myself, in the arrogance of my heart, yet I found no glory. My only glory is that your Mother has embraced me, covered me with her mantle, and drawn me to her heart. I want to be loved as one of your little ones. I want to feed with your bread all those who hunger for you.
May we all continue to meditate on the Immaculate Heart of Mary (a feast we celebrated yesterday) and cultivate such a listening and receptive heart ourselves. As for me, I will continue to gaze at her and learn to reflect her gentle, loving maternal instincts to those around me and bring Jesus, her Son to them.
* To read the wonderful second meditation of three, go to: http://en.radiovaticana.va/news/2016/06/02/pope_francis_second_meditation_for_the_retreat_for_priests/1234296. Through our baptism we are called to be priests, so the Pope's reflection holds true for us, too.
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