Omnia per Mariam.Omnia per Mariam.
Whatever good we possess, it is to the Blood, sufferings, and tears of Jesus our Redeemer we are indebted. But to whom, after God, are we indebted for Jesus Himself, if not to His Mother, to Mary? And giving us this immense good, could she fail to give us every other good with Him? "How hath He not also with Him given us all things?" Or who can wonder that Jesus, having delivered Himself over to Mary, should have remitted to her all the spiritual riches consequent upon this first gift? Rejoice then, ye children of this tender Mother, and say boldly - "All good things came to me together with Mary." Yes, he who has found this source of graces, has found all virtues, since there is nothing that Mary's intercession cannot obtain for him; it is she who says - "With me are riches and glory . . . that I may enrich them that love me." All the goods, all the graces, all the helps men have received or shall receive from God to the end of time, have been or shall be derived from the intercession, through the interposition, of Mary. It is from the plenitude of gifts showered upon her by her Divine Son, that we have become enriched. "Of His fullness we all have received." Accordingly, Saint Bonaventure counsels us never to turn aside our eyes from Mary, that thus we may secure to ourselves a share in the blessings that are continually dispensed at her hands.
Saint Cajetan affirms - "That no matter how earnestly we may petition for grace, it is only through the intercession of Mary we shall obtain it;" and Saint Antoninus adds - "To ask otherwise than through her, is to attempt to fly without wings." "I have appointed thee over the whole land of Egypt," Pharaoh said to Joseph; and to all who had recourse to him, he replied - "Go to Joseph."* When we ask any favour from God, He refers us to Mary, so that Christians may say to Mary with far greater reason than the Egyptians said to Joseph - "Our salvation isin thy hands."
O Mary, through whom all good has come to us, Virgin full of grace, may all Christians, as Saint Bernard so beautifully expresses himself, "honour you with their whole heart, cling to you with the utmost tenacity." May they be sensible that all share in your favours, that you forsake none, despise none, but invite all to avail themselves of your unbounded power!
Invoke her, then, all who would avoid perishing, who aspire to a life of immortality. Just and fervent souls, invoke Mary that she may sustain you in the steep and narrow path of rectitude, that ascending from virtue to virtue, you may reach the summit of the holy mountain where God crowns His elect. Imperfect and tepid souls, who carry the yoke of the Lord so slothfully, invoke Mary that she may hasten to reanimate your sluggishness, before God reject you entirely out of His mouth, and your wayward heart, to borrow a Scripture expression, return to its vomit. And you, sinners, who plunged in an abyss of the most shameful disorders, feel the horror of your condition, but despair of extricating yourself, who believe not the possibility of breaking chains so heavy, of overcoming habits so inveterate, have recourse to Mary, with her aid everything is possible to you.
Practice
Whatever you ask, ask it through Mary; present through her hands all your prayers and good works to God. Yield her this homage of the heart, of which she is so jealous, accustoming yourself to act as if she were present - under her direction; begging her blessing at the commencement of your principal actions with the same confidence as if you beheld her face to face.
Aspiration
You shall not die for ever, my soul! you shall live again to grace, in order to relate the marvels of Mary's power!
Example
In the fifteenth century, when the exertions of Blessed Alain de la Roche caused the almost forgotten Devotion of the Rosary to revive, there dwelt in the south of France a noble lady who governed her house with a holy regularity, and who was one of the first to join the confraternity on its re-establishment. She had an only son, named Bernard, an amiable child, ennobled no less by his disposition than by his birth, and above all distinguished by an angelic innocence of life. His mother sent him to a neighbouring school for the prosecution of his studies, whence he returned every evening. It does not appear that Bernard wanted abilities, he even made remarkable progress, but the composition of French and Latin verses, one of the most frequent duties of his school, presented insurmountable difficulties to him. The poor youth passed many a weary hour in fruitless attempts. His want of success had rendered him the laughing-stock of his companions, and not unfrequently drew down upon him the punishment of his masters.
Returning home one evening after a day more than usually disastrous, he gave way to most despondent thoughts. His mother questioned him affectionately; Bernard gave no reply.
"You do not speak, my child. You were never accustomed to hide your griefs from your mother; is it that you have committed some grave fault that you fear to acknowledge?"
"No mother," he replied, "it is only that people call me imbecile, stupid, and their judgment is correct; but although my feelings are deeply wounded, it is no grave fault, but simply, I am not a poet."
"What, is this all that distresses you? Why envy a gift which brings so little happiness, and sometimes weakens divine grace in the soul? Aspire to higher favours; piety of heart, and an ardent faith, are acquisitions worthier your ambition."
"My mother, you know not what is thought of me; and I shall remain the scorn of my school-fellows, even as I already am, so long as I am incapable of making verses; and make them I never shall," he added sadly.
"Bernard," rejoined his mother, "I do not flatter myself I can help you in making verses, but it may be I shall succeed in raising your courage. Master Alain de la Roche lately told us of a student to whom books were as wearisome as poetry can be to you; yet he not only found means to understand them, but even to write some himself, and he died one of the most celebrated doctors of the University."
"How did he accomplish this?" asked Bernard.
"By very simple means," rejoined his mother; "he besought the aid of the Blessed Virgin, reciting daily the Rosary in her honour. What prevents you from doing the same? Master Alain gave you a beads, of which you do not make much use; recite it before the altar of the Mother of God every day before going to class; say the prayers as he has taught you, and remember that no one ever yet prayed to Mary and did not obtain her assistance."
Bernard followed his mother's advice; and not content to say a part of the Rosary, he daily recited the Fifteen Mysteries on his knees before the statue of the Blessed Virgin. A complete metamorphosis was in a short time effected in his mind. Not only all difficulty disappeared, but Bernard's compositions displayed a depth of thought and singular elegance of imagery, which soon became perceptible to all; and those who had formerly surpassed him were left speedily behind. How could it have been otherwise? His soul delighted to drink at the genuine sources of moral beauty, and by daily meditation on those Joyful, Sorrowful, and Glorious Mysteries, he penetrated the ineffable secrets of that Life and Passion, the copious well-spring of all that is elevated, tender, and true in sentiment. The sacred names which were ever on his lips, and the presence of Mary which everywhere overshadowed him, were for him an unfailing though invisible assistance. Each day he felt the maternal eyes of compassion, which he so often invoked, beaming sweetly on him. This familiar intercourse warmed his understanding with the flames of divine love; and whilst others ex- tolled their favourite poets, Mary was his theme - he acknowledged himself indebted to her for all his inspirations.
The masters marvelled at the transformation of their pupil: they pretended to account for it by subtle reasonings on the development of intellect; the pupils wondered no less, and ere long addressed themselves to Bernard, beseeching him to help them in their compositions. As to this last, if people praised him, or if they asked whence he derived his thoughts and poetical images, he declared with admirable ingenuousness, that by reciting the Rosary every one could do as much. This unfailing reply was soon caught up by his companions, who bestowed on him the name of "Scholar of the Rosary."
What was to become of this boy? The most exalted destiny was predicted for him. Nevertheless, conjecture and previsions were alike at fault, and for the pupil of Mary was reserved a fortune superior to those of earth. The world was not worthy of him. Returning home one day, Bernard complained to his mother of a great pain in his eyes; on the morrow inflammation became general, and spread so rapidly that he could not bear the light, and he suffered the most violent pains. Bernard, however, despite his ailment and increasing weakness, failed not to recite his entire Rosary. He consoled his mother when she lamented his threatened blindness, by assuring her that his Devotion by its own nature afforded him ample distraction, and that one charming feature in it was that it required neither sight, nor even the aid of books to nourish it, the mere touch of his beloved beads, which he always wore round his neck, sufficing to testify to Mary the sentiments of his heart. Blindness, alas! was not the only trial the poor mother had to fear, it now became evident that the malady had reached that fatal point to which no human remedy can bring alleviation. Bernard must go to contemplate the glory, and sing with the Angels the praises of her whom he had so fondly loved on earth. If the thought of the sacrifice about to be required from her cost the pious mother many a pang, this cross was not without its consolation also; she knew the admirable innocence of her Bernard, and felt that she was confiding the dear child to the arms of a Mother whose tenderness exceeded her own. Nor was Mary slow in justifying this trust. Before the administration of the last rites of the Church to the sufferer, his mother, in anticipation of the Priest's arrival, ordered the chamber to be lighted up, although the physicians had prescribed total darkness.
"What need is there of light here?" asked Bernard.
"It is for the Priest, my child," answered the mother; "you will try and bear it for a few minutes."
"But there is light already; the room is full of it," rejoined he; "to me it has never been dark. I am astonished you do not perceive it."
"What light," asked the Priest, who had now entered. "Your mother and I are beside you, but to our eyes the chamber is in complete darkness."
"The light proceeds from our Lady," replied Bernard; "she is here beside me, her glory shines on and enlightens me. Since I fell sick, I have never been in the dark."
A holy fear filled the Priest, and he involuntarily bowed respectfully in the direction pointed out by the patient, at the same time asking him - "And does not this light hurt your eyes; you, who cannot tolerate day-light?"
"This light is joy," answered Bernard, in tones of rapture; "it is for me joy and glory. All pain is now over." Thus died, a few moments after, this child of benediction. Those he left behind him, experienced a heartfelt assurance that "Mary's scholar" enjoyed in its plenitude this glory, the reflection of which had lighted up his bed of death.
Visit to the Blessed Sacrament
Lo, the kingdom of God is within you. - Luke 17:31
God's kingdom is Heaven, where He reigns with the Saints and Angels in all the splendour of His glory. His kingdom is the humble dwelling He has chosen in every faithful heart still in this land of exile; it is this tabernacle in which my God has concealed Himself to dwell with men. Where the King is, there is His court. I find here, therefore, all that I hope for in Heaven; I shall there behold nothing I do not now believe with steadfast faith. The Heavenly object of my love, He Who delights the Saints in the eternal abode of charity, I possess here in this Sacrament. The better I shall know Him here, the more I shall understand Him in the holy city; the more I shall love Him in exile, the more fully shall I contemplate Him in Sion. O my Lord Jesus, I know not why, how much You have loved those who preceded me, how much You love those who surround me. Oh! speak to me, teach me what I can do to love You at least as much as a heart so miserable and imperfect as mine can.
O Mary, give me your love for Jesus; establish His kingdom in me on the ruins of all that belongs not to Him.
- taken from The Month of May Consecrated to the Glory of the Mother of God, The Queen of Heaven