For many years my understanding of Mary’s role and therefore my relationship with her was a bit of a struggle. I always loved her. However, I loved her in a sort of matter-of-fact way, “of course I love Mary, she is Jesus’s mom.” I had no hesitation regarding asking for her intercession. Scripture made it sufficiently clear to me both that there was precedent for Mary bringing our needs to Jesus (John 2:1-11) and that Jesus wants us to embrace Mary, to bring her into our homes (John 19: 25-27). So far it was all clear sailing, and I was content to leave it at that.
However, underneath all that there was this lingering irritation, this persistent question, that though I ignored it, refused to go away. What was I to think of all the saints, the holy men and women, who didn’t just love Mary in the somewhat causal way that I did, but who were positively, deeply devoted to her? What did I think of the idea of being consecrated to Mary, of belonging to her as somehow the best and surest pathway to Jesus? Surely those people were going a bit overboard, right? I had always told other people who struggled with the idea of Marian devotion not to worry about, they could of course go straight to Jesus. Mary was one possible, but not necessary, pathway so if the idea of her was a problem, drop it.
But at a certain point I found myself surrounded by people who had consecrated themselves to Mary and who were sharing joyfully the fruit of that consecration. It was intriguing to me so eventually, somewhat reluctantly, I decided to check it out for myself. I figured I could at least read the book, think about the material, it didn’t mean I was committed to making the consecration and if it didn’t resonate with me, or if I found it problematic, I could just drop it. No big deal.
I used a well-known, popular book to prepare for the consecration. It is structured such that each week of the four-week preparation features reflections from a particular saint with a devotion to our Blessed Mother. Everything was fine until day 13, which included a quote from St. Maximillian Kolbe boldly proclaiming, “The Holy Spirit does not act except through the Immaculata, his spouse. Hence, she is the Mediatrix of all the graces of the Holy Spirit.” This line gave me pause. In fact, it grated on my mind. “This. This is exactly the sort of thing that bothers me,” I thought. “Why are we restricting the Holy Spirit? Surely the Holy Spirt doesn’t have to work only through Mary. The Holy Spirit is God. He can work however He pleases.” I grappled with this idea; it didn’t seem right to me. I reminded myself that saints are not infallible, that just because they believed something didn’t mean it was necessarily true or something I had to believe. I decided to continue with the preparation, doing the daily reading, but there was a resistance and hesitation in my mind.
The week following St. Maximillian Kolbe was based around reflections from St. Teresa of Calcutta and it was absolutely fine. There was nothing it that I found objectionable but there was also nothing in it that particularly moved me. I read each day’s reflection but with my mind more on the quote from St. Maximillian and the objections it raised in my mind. But the whole time I was reading through week three, week four loomed ahead of me.
Week four of the consecration drew on the works, prayers, reflections of St. Pope John Paul II and I knew, because I know myself, that whatever he said I would believe. This wasn’t a rational decision, informed by intellect, this was a decision informed by love. I love St. Pope John Paul II, am one of the throng of young people who cried out joyously, ardently, “JP II, we love you,” and who heard in response the tender cry of, “JP II, he loves you!” I knew that whatever he said about Mary I would accept, my heart would overrule my mind and I would respond, “okay, papa, whatever you say.”
Aware of this reality I wanted to resolve my issues with St. Maximillian’s statements before moving on. I needed to address the questions troubling my reason before getting swept up in my emotions.
So, one morning, I stood around in my kitchen and talked to myself, out loud, about it. “Okay,” I said, “where does grace come from?” “From the cross,” came my own response. From there my mind raced on, Jesus dying on the cross is the source of our salvation and it is from Him that all grace flows. Well and good. However, Jesus could only die on the cross because He has a human nature, and He received that human nature through Mary. It is her blood that flows through His veins, that was shed for us. Without, and before Mary, God the Son, the second person of the Holy Trinity existed but it is only through her that we received Jesus the Man, the Man who died for us thus opening up all graces, the Man who after His ascension sent to us another advocate, the Holy Spirit. Seen in this light, St. Maximillian Kolbe’s statement became clear to me. Grace comes to us through Jesus, but Jesus came to us through Mary and that isn’t a limit to the Holy Spirt, it is the way that God freely chose to act. With this thought all the objections in my mind fell away, what had seemed complicated became simple. I was able to enter into the fourth week in peace.
During that week, though my love of St. John Paul II, I did fall move in love with Mary and began to truly desire a deeper relationship with her, to belong to her with a trusting devotion that she would always bring me closer to her Son. The end of that week happened to correspond with the beginning of a four-day personal retreat I was going on. As I entered my room at the retreat center, the first thing I saw was a beautiful painting of JPII lovingly, tenderly embracing Mary, holding her close. The image stirred my soul, the Holy Spirt confirming the good work that He had been about in opening my heart to His spouse as I too chose to embrace the Mediatrix of all graces.
Prose for the sake of Poetry 