OK, enough politics for now. I will continue to follow the political landscape because I am a masochist. But you, my dear readers, deserve better than to hear me vent about a wholly forgettable election cycle.
Instead, as we enter into the season of Advent and the new liturgical year, I'd like to do something different. From now until the end of the Easter season, I'd like to offer reflections on the 20 Mysteries of the Rosary. As the Advent and Christmas seasons have come to be associated with the Joyful Mysteries, Ordinary Time with the Luminous Mysteries, Lent with the Sorrowful Mysteries, and Easter with the Glorious Mysteries, it seems a perfect time to begin this series of reflections, which is something I've given a lot of thought to these last few years. As I present these, I will introduce a new category for Rosary Reflections, and will frequently link to that category to encourage readers to revisit what has been written. I will also post these as notes on my Facebook page. I welcome any and all feedback and comments you may have to offer. My aim is simple: I want anyone I can reach to develop a deeper appreciation of the Rosary, to understand just how deeply the Rosary is immersed in the life, liturgy, and theology of the Church. These reflections are by no means comprehensive, nor will I claim them to be the product of original thinking. As I have stated many, many times before, there is nothing new under the sun; and I guarantee you that everyone in the history of the Church who bears the bears the abbreviation "St." before their name has contemplated the mysteries of the Rosary far more than I have, as have countless holy men and women throughout the ages and in the present day. That said, these are the things that most strike me when I contemplate these beautiful mysteries; and if they can be of any benefit to anyone, I gladly offer them.
We should always bear in mind that the prayers of the Rosary, though chiefly invoking the intercession of our beautiful Lady, are at their core Christocentric prayers. It is no coincidence that the very first of the mysteries begins with the event of the Annunciation of the Incarnation of Our Lord, an event so important in the history of man that all of Western Civilization, with all its varying degrees of belief, makes it the basis upon which its system of historical dating rests (thanks in large part to the efforts of St. Bede the Venerable). The account of the Annunciation is recorded in the Gospel of Luke 1:26-38. The text is recounted here (unless otherwise noted, all verses are quoted from the Douay Rheims Bible):
"26 And in the sixth month, the angel Gabriel was sent from God into a city of Galilee, called Nazareth,
27 To a virgin espoused to a man whose name was Joseph, of the house of David; and the virgin's name was Mary.
28 And the angel being come in, said unto her: Hail, full of grace, the Lord is with thee: blessed art thou among women.
29 Who having heard, was troubled at his saying, and thought with herself what manner of salutation this should be.
30 And the angel said to her: Fear not, Mary, for thou hast found grace with God.
31 Behold thou shalt conceive in thy womb, and shalt bring forth a son; and thou shalt call his name Jesus.
32 He shall be great, and shall be called the Son of the most High; and the Lord God shall give unto him the throne of David his father; and he shall reign in the house of Jacob for ever.
33 And of his kingdom there shall be no end.
34 And Mary said to the angel: How shall this be done, because I know not man?
35 And the angel answering, said to her: The Holy Ghost shall come upon thee, and the power of the most High shall overshadow thee. And therefore also the Holy which shall be born of thee shall be called the Son of God.
36 And behold thy cousin Elizabeth, she also hath conceived a son in her old age; and this is the sixth month with her that is called barren:
37 Because no word shall be impossible with God.
38 And Mary said: Behold the handmaid of the Lord; be it done to me according to thy word. And the angel departed from her."
St. Gabriel, often identified as one of the seven angels who stands before the throne of God, came to visit a young virgin, and his greeting immediately suggests that there is something special about the young woman he greeted: "Hail, full of grace, the Lord is with thee: blessed art thou among women." (As an aside, the angel's very greeting is repeated daily by millions upon millions worldwide, thus fulfilling the prediction Mary subsequently makes in her Magnificat that all generations will call her blessed). Mary knew enough to know that this was not a typical greeting from an angel, hence her puzzlement. The angel's language, his entire demeanor towards her, is one of deference. Yet, in the Scriptures she had likely been taught growing up, when angels greeted men they spoke in a way that indicated that they expected to be feared and respected. To be called full of grace by an angel, to say nothing of being called blessed among women, is truly unheard of. And her reaction to such deference is not one of satisfaction and swollen pride that so many in today's day and age would likely feel; instead, she is troubled and puzzled, humbled from beginning to end.
The narrative also establishes her betrothal, of which she was surely aware; and it establishes the lineage of her future husband as that of the House of David. Though it is not mentioned here, Mary was also of the House of David, so that God's promise that the long awaited King would be of the House of David was fulfilled. Yet she hails from Nazareth, in the region of Galilee, long derided by people of the time as a place from which nothing good came. The theme of humility - of the lowly being raised up and those in high places being laid low - is established early and often in the Gospels, and it begins with the Word Incarnate and the one who would be called blessed among women coming from humble origins despite their royal lineage.
The angel announces to Mary that she will conceive and bear a son. Mary wonders how this can happen, since she does not know man, and the angel proceeds to explain how it will come about. This exchange reveals two very important things, both of which are essential to the development of the Church's doctrine regarding the Blessed Mother. The first is this: why would a woman who was betrothed to marry a man wonder how she could conceive and bear a son? It is vital to note that the angel did not mention when the conception would take place (and there was certainly nothing in the account to indicate that Mary knew it would happen that very night), so the natural assumption here is that the conception would happen in natural course. Mary's response reveals that she knows how babies are conceived, yet she still seems confused as to how she can bear a child. Some may say that she was barren, but she is never referred to as such (even as her cousin Elizabeth - who also conceives miraculously - is called barren twice in the same chapter of the Gospel) and it would have been impossible in those days to know whether a physically healthy girl was barren until she was no longer a virgin and many years had passed. So if Mary was not barren, knew how babies were conceived, and was soon to marry (and presumably begin engaging in the activity by which conception took place), why would she be puzzled by the angel's announcement? Her confusion only makes sense if she never intended to physically consummate her marriage. And the angel's response indicates that he saw nothing unusual about Mary's response. It was only when Gabriel explained the conception in a way that safeguarded Mary's virginity that she consented to becoming the Mother of God.
The second thing to take from this exchange is this: the angel showed no sign of anger, no hint of frustration, at having his proclamation questioned by the young virgin. Yet a few verses prior to the account of the Annunciation, Gabriel announces the conception of John the Baptist to John's father Zachary. Zachary is a respected priest of the Temple and identified as an upright man. He questions how his aged and barren wife could conceive a child, and there is nothing in Zachary's tone to indicate disrespect towards the angel. Yet for questioning the angel's word, Gabriel strikes Zachary mute for six months. So a respected priest of the Temple questions the angel's proclamation and is struck mute, while a young virgin similarly questions another of the angel's proclamations only to be rewarded with a thorough explanation. It seems that Gabriel was well aware of his place relative to the priest and the young virgin, which speaks volumes about the place of honor the young virgin even then occupied.
When the angel mentions that the Holy Spirit would come upon Mary and that the power of the most high would overshadow her, scholars of the day would have immediately noticed the parallels to the Exodus account of the pillar cloud that hovered over the tabernacle at the tent of meeting during the Israelites' period of exile (references to the cloud appear throughout all of Exodus, but the most explicit mention of the cloud and the tabernacle appears in Exodus 40:32-36). The presence of the cloud was known to be a sign of the presence of God, and the shadow cast by the cloud was always acknowledged as sacred space. Now, in the Gospel of Luke, this sacred shadow would come upon a virgin, and once again the presence of God would ensue.
The account concludes with Mary's proclamation that she is a handmaid of the Lord, and consenting to what the angel announced. Her humble proclamation is also echoed in the life of the Church, particularly during the Sacred Liturgy. To proclaim herself as a handmaid was to proclaim her lowliness, her unworthiness, to receive the Most High into her womb, into her very being. Her humble proclamation and gesture of faith prefigures that of the Roman centurion, who approaches Jesus in Matthew chapter 8 with a request to heal his servant. Jesus agrees to come to the centurion's home, but in verse 8 the centurion replies: "Lord, I am not worthy that thou shouldst enter under my roof: but only say the word, and my servant shall be healed." This proclamation, reminiscent of the Blessed Mother's own proclamation of unworthiness, is the proclamation that we make at every Mass during the Eucharistic rite. And like the Blessed Mother, if we are in a state of grace we are rewarded for our proclamation by immediately receiving the Precious Body and Blood of Our Lord into ourselves.
From start to finish, the Rosary is a very Eucharistic prayer, a prayer that pervades every aspect of the Church. As I progress through these reflections, this theme will become increasingly more pronounced. Everyone have a Blessed Advent season, and God bless!
In Jesus and Mary,
Gerald
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