by Fr. Peter
Richard Kenrick
“Thou art the joy of Israel.” —
Judith xv. 10
With what delight must the
heart of that noble woman, Judith, have expanded, when Joachim, the
high-priest, came from Jerusalem to Bethulia with all his ancients to see her,
and said to her, in the name of the entire people: “Thou art the glory of Jerusalem;
thou art the joy of Israel; thou art the honour of our people!” But how much more justly does the
church apply these words to Mary, whom she thus addresses on the festival of
her Nativity: “Thy Nativity, O
holy Mother of God, brought universal joy to the world; for from thee arose the
Sun of Justice, Christ our Lord.” Truly
she is the “joy of the whole
earth” in a much more perfect
sense than Jerusalem was declared to be by the prophet. Had not God given us a
Redeemer, how joyless would be our state! To every child of Adam it is a vale
of tears; and those who seem to enjoy most of its happiness, know by experience
that all earthly satisfaction is vain and transitory. Were it not for religion,
and the ennobling and consoling hopes it holds out to our view, the world would
be in reality, what some of the ancient philosophers imagined it to be, a place
of punishment, where criminals were placed without any knowledge of the cause
of their misfortune, or any means whereby it might be remedied.
Jesus Christ, who came not only
to give glory to God, but peace on earth to men of good will, has entirely
changed our situation. If we feel that we are guilty children of a guilty
parent, we know that in Him we have a Redeemer, who has made abundant
satisfaction for our offences, and by means of whom we can become reconciled
with God. If we suffer from the rebellion of our own passions, we have, in His
divine grace, the means whereby they may be subdued. Without this divine aid,
we might be hurried into excesses which our reason and conscience would
condemn, but would not control, and which would eventually lead us to regard
life itself as an intolerable burden. If we have to endure tribulation, the
thought of Jesus Christ and of his humiliations, privations, and sufferings,
reconciles us to our lot, and even makes us glory in tribulation. If we
naturally recoil from death,—from that departure out of life, which, in itself
and its consequences, is so awfully important,—the hope of that future glory
which the Son of Mary has purchased for us by His blood, more than suffices to
calm our agitations, and make fear give way to hope. Truly, then, did Isaias
describe the Messiah as the Prince of Peace. While we pour out our hearts in
gratitude to Him, for this amelioration of our state, can we, or ought we,
forget her, whom the church styles the Mother of the Prince of Peace, and the “cause of our joy?”
While we are sensible of this
truth, and give thanks to God for this great benefit of spiritual peace and
joy, of which Mary is the cause, through the merits of her divine Son, let us
see whether we participate in this good to the extent that we ought. Do we feel
the joy of a good conscience? Have we that humble hope, that we have been
washed from the defilement of sin in the blood of the Lamb, which the devout
reception of the sacraments is calculated to produce? Perhaps we have rejected
these means of salvation; perhaps we have abused them, by receiving them
without the proper dispositions. Should this unfortunately be the case, how can
we truly call Mary the cause of our joy, when, although she has given us the
source of true happiness, we have not permitted its influence to reach our
souls; but have preferred the gloom and agitation of a troubled conscience, to
the joy and tranquillity which this Prince of Peace would have established in
them. Let us take the resolution to find rest for our souls, by applying to
them the healing balm of a Redeemer's mercy. By regularity of life, and
exactness and fervour in God's service, we will secure for ourselves the joy of
a good conscience, and thus we may hope to merit, through Jesus Christ, a
participation in the joys of God's kingdom, which will never end.
EXAMPLE
The Venerable Benedict Joseph
Labre was born in the village of Annettes, near Boulogne-sur-mer, in France. He
visited Italy, for the purpose of improving himself in the practice of virtue,
and venerating the sacred shrines of the apostles. He made a pilgrimage to the
Holy House at Loretto, in which the Mother of God dwelt while on earth; and the
extraordinary graces he received there, inspired him with a lasting affection
for this venerated place, and made him repeat his visit no less than ten
different times during the remaining years of his life. After this great
sanctuary, that which he loved most, out of Rome, was the Church of “Our Lady of Hermits” in the diocese of Constance.
This holy man embraced a life of voluntary poverty, and seems to have been
destined by Providence, to recall to men's minds the poverty of Christ. He ate
nothing but the fragments which he received as a mendicant; and esteemed
himself happy in suffering hunger, thirst, and all the inconveniences of
travelling: for he had ever before his eyes the mortified life of the most Holy
Virgin. He gloried in appearing clad with the livery of this amiable Mother,
and always wore a chaplet (or beads) round his neck. It was difficult to see
him pray before an image of Mary, and not feel deeply moved.
He was often found at a very early hour at the gate of the church of “Our Lady of the Mountains” at Rome, in which, during the eight
years of his residence in that city, he daily spent many hours motionless on
his knees, more like a seraph than a mortal man. In the beginning of 1783 he
consecrated to the Mother of God all the moments of that year, which was to be
his last. His strength daily diminished, but his fervour seemed to increase. On
the Wednesday in Holy Week, he went to pray at the gate of his favourite church
of “Our Lady of the
Mountains.” He suddenly felt
an excessive languor come over him, and fainted on the steps of the church. He
was brought into a house in the neighbourhood, whither some zealous religious
followed him to administer the last consolations of religion. They began to
pray, and at these words: “Holy
Mary, pray for him,” this
faithful servant of Mary calmly rendered up his soul to God, without any
appearance of agony.
PRAYER
O Mary! what sentiments shall I
have at the hour of death? When I consider my sins, and think on that decisive
moment, on which my eternal happiness or misery will depend, I am seized with
fear and trembling. O sweet mother, in the blood of Jesus Christ, and in thy
powerful intercession for its application to my soul, is all my hope. If, at
present, I am tormented with remorse for my sins,—if I am uneasy when I
consider the uncertainty of my having blotted them out by sincere penance, and
am troubled at the danger of relapse; what will my sentiments then be! Unless
thou wilt assist me, I shall be lost. Obtain for me, O Holy Virgin, during
life, a sincere sorrow for my sins, and a persevering fidelity in the
observance of God's commandments, that thus I may partake of the joy of a good
conscience. Dispel the illusions with which the enemy of my soul will endeavour
to betray me into eternal misery, at the hour of my death. May thy name, and
the name of thy Divine Son be ever on my lips; and when my tongue refuses to
articulate them, may my dying heart heave with emotions of heavenly love.
Assist me, O Sacred Virgin, both now, and in the hour of my death. May my last
words be, Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, and my last act, an act of love of God. Amen.
PRACTICE
Resolve to approach the
sacraments of penance and the holy eucharist, on all the festivals of the
Blessed Virgin.
ASPIRATION
“O Mary, may my heart never
cease to love thee, nor my tongue to praise thee!” — St. Bonaventure
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