The Immaculate Conception
(10.5 minute read - Enjoy!)
When Garcia-Moreno
1
fell under the blows of the assassins who struck him down out of hatred
for Religion, a last flicker of light shone in his eyes as he murmured:
“God does not die.” This is an extremely magnificent declaration of
faith and hope. Truly, the Almighty cannot be vanquished!
Yet by choosing to manifest His abundant love through the work of
Creation, it seems that the Lord suffered failure after failure. He
created the angels to be companions of His infinite delights, yet many
of them preferred to indulge their pride rather than enjoy the beatific
joys of divine love.
He created our first parents for a happiness that far exceeds the
most demanding expectations of the human heart. Yet they turned away
from their Sovereign Benefactor out of ingratitude.
The Lord could not suffer what seemed to be a “double defeat.”
Rather, He deserved a brilliant restitution. The incomparable Artist
returned to work, conceiving the idea of an admirable creature whose
beauty would far surpass man in the brilliance of his original
innocence, and whose radiant perfection would outshine the light of the
most splendid angels. When the time was fulfilled, He completed this
masterpiece of His intelligence and love: He created the Virgin Mary.
The first privilege accorded her was her Immaculate Conception.
Blessed is the day the Queen of Heaven was conceived!
We must fully understand what this unique privilege means.
With the conception of Mary, the Most High did more than just
condescend to obey the universal laws governing the coming of men into
the world. He did not form Our Lady miraculously by virtue of the Holy
Ghost as was later done with her divine Son.
Indeed, she had both a father and a mother. But the Lord, Who from
all eternity had chosen Joachim and Anne to give life to the Queen of
Heaven, had raised them to a great degree of holiness. Their noble
mission places them so much higher than the other Saints that they
undoubtedly deserve special homage.
We are too often unmindful of this, yet we could benefit by
recognizing their sanctity, for these two great souls enjoy a powerful
influence over the heart of their beloved daughter.
The privilege of the Immaculate Conception consists in Mary’s
exemption from the fatal inheritance we carry into the world at birth.
The same moment that gives life to our bodies gives death to our souls.
We are born children of wrath—“natura filii irae.”
2
Throughout our fleeting lives, we endure the heavy burden resulting from the fall of Adam.
Allowing ourselves to be seduced by error, we lack the self-mastery
to resist the temptations that challenge us. Our corrupted flesh is
seared by the abominable fire of concupiscence. Our hearts are rent by
affliction, our bodies tortured by sickness. Finally, hideous death
overcomes us—and we must suffer the supreme ignominy of the putrefaction
that consumes our corpse and the worms that vie with one another for
our remains!
How the curse from heaven due to Adam’s sin oppresses us! How
understandable is the cry of anguish uttered by Job in his misery: “Let
the day perish wherein I was born.”
3
On the contrary, many, many times blessed was the day the Queen of
Heaven was conceived! From the solemn moment when Our Lord created her
soul and united it with her small virginal body, He made it, by the work
of His powerful hands, to emerge all white, all radiant, all pure. Not a
single minute, not a single second, not a single infinitesimal fraction
of a second was this magnificent soul sullied by the stain of Original
Sin. Not even for an infinitesimal fraction of a second could the
serpent glare at Mary with a look of hateful pride nor covet her as his
prey. Seeing this, the serpent recognized with overwhelming anger that
the woman who had been promised had come, the immaculate one who would
crush his head with her virginal heel.
Since Mary was preserved from Original Sin, it logically follows that
she would not be subject to the consequences of that sin. Let us then
contemplate how this is reflected in her virginal soul. No
narrow-mindedness limited her intelligence, for hers was the most wise,
penetrating, and enlightened intellect after that of Our Lord.
No weakness impaired her will, the most vigorous and ardent will ever created.
No selfishness restricted her heart, the most all-encompassing, generous, and caring heart ever known after that of her Son.
This glory of her Immaculate Conception was reflected in her body.
She did not experience the concupiscence that wreaks such havoc within
us. Sickness did not harm her. Finally, unlike the rest of men, Our Lady
was subject to neither pain nor bodily death. Nevertheless, God willed
that she experience both suffering and death that she might know the
same torments we suffer. With this store of shared experience, Our
Lady’s compassion for us is all the more maternal and merciful.
We have so far studied only a small part of this great mystery. The
Almighty did much more than create Mary in a state of grace like that of
the angels and our first parents. He graced her soul with the sum of
all virtues to such an imminent degree that our minds cannot grasp its
splendor.
Theologians teach that from that first moment, the Blessed Virgin
surpassed in perfection not only the highest angel, but all angels and
saints put together.
Her incomparable beauty is such that the Holy Ghost exclaims in
admiration: “Thou art all beautiful, O my love, and there is no blemish
in thee”—Tota pulchra es et macula non est in te.
4
When Pope Pius IX defined the dogma of the Immaculate Conception, the
Catholic world cried out with joy. The cannons of Castel Sant’Angelo,
where the pontifical flag still waved in Rome’s brilliant light, fired
and announced the glad news to the world. All over the world, the
faithful proclaimed their joy. In many big cities, homes were
spontaneously decked with banners and illuminated with candles and
lanterns.
Christian hearts understandably rejoiced in seeing another flower of
glory adorn the crown of their Mother. Does this privilege of the
Virgin
Mary, however, communicate the
same kind of moral well-being to our souls? Does it not rather elevate
Our Lady to such great height that she appears even farther removed from
our misery? Quite the contrary!
Our Catholic consciences would be
poorly schooled indeed if we did not find the Immaculate Conception of
Mary as the very basis for her virtually infinite goodness.
All men are endowed with a fundamental generosity rendering them at
certain times capable of the most admirable self-sacrifice. Those who
survived battles can testify to the unfathomable heroism that can spring
forth from the human soul. Indeed, how many young people have requested
dangerous missions in the place of their older comrades? They knew the
dangers involved yet proceeded to their deaths with smiles on their
lips. They believed their sacrifice would deliver a father whose small
children were also smiling in the distant purity of their cribs.
Unfortunately, many obstacles prevent the full maturing of such
natural generosity, a magnificent vestige of our original state of
beauty. We know these obstacles all too well from personal experience.
Are our hearts not moved at the sight of another’s distress? Yet does
not the bitter voice of self-interest all too often cover up the
instinctive response which springs from the heart? Are we not often
insensitive to our neighbor’s suffering because of our love of comfort
and pleasure?
Our selfishness paralyses and often completely stifles the goodness of our hearts.
The Queen of Heaven knows no such pettiness! No selfishness can
prevent her from merciful gestures of compassion and tenderness toward
her children.
There is more. God formed the soul of Mary as the most faithful image of His adorable perfections.
God’s infinite goodness causes Him to fill us with more and more
abundant blessings; indeed, this led the Incarnate Word to the supreme
folly of the cross. Like her Son, the Blessed Virgin carries within her
heart a ceaselessly burning fire of love for us. She would gladly
sacrifice her life a thousand times over for our benefit.
Since she is a mere creature, her suffering on Calvary did not have
infinite value like that of Jesus, but it did almost equal in intensity
that of the Savior. That she did not die of sorrow at the foot of the
cross is, in fact, a veritable miracle.
Does it not seem that Our Lady herself wanted to explain to us the
relationship between her original purity and her goodness? Recall the
miraculous grotto at Lourdes on the banks of the Gave, where she
established the throne of her mercy. Prodigies occur without ceasing.
How did the pure lady of the apparition answer when Bernadette asked her
name? Joining her hands, her countenance lit with a most luminous
smile, and lifting her eyes to heaven, she said with an expression of
ineffable gratitude:
“I am the Immaculate Conception.”
Speaking thus, she implicitly told us:
“Let us join together in thanking the Most High for having preserved
me from Original Sin. Since I am all pure, I am also all good.”
* * * * * * * * *
May these considerations inspire you to a practical and unshakable
faith in Mary’s goodness. With Saint Bernard, believe firmly that you
will never invoke our Heavenly Mother in vain.
Confide the desires of your soul to her. She will fortify you in your
temptations and give you a small spark of her love for Jesus. This
spark will enkindle the sweet fire of divine charity in your soul.
Confide the cares of your heart to her. Are you hurt by moments of
ingratitude or scorn, which can be so especially cruel when coming from
the persons you love? Are you broken by sorrows that suddenly extinguish
the joy of your meager existence?
Tell Mary your troubles; she will console you, and your tears of grief will turn into tears of gratitude.
Confide your material cares to her.
She will arrange everything according to your true best interests. In
all of your difficulties, in every circumstance, at every moment, look
to the gentle Star of the Sea, invoke Mary!—
“Respice stellum, voca Mariam.”5
Notes:
1. Gabriel
Garcia-Moreno, president of Ecuador in the mid-nineteenth century, was
martyred and died for the Faith by Freemasons after receiving Holy
Communion in 1875. back to text
2. Ephes. 2:3. back to text
3. “Pereat dies in qua natus sum, et nox in qua dictum est: conceptus est homo.” (Job 3 :3). back to text
4. Canticle of Canticles, 4:7. back to text
5. Saint Bernard. Second sermon on the words of the Gospel “Missus est angelus Gabriel” (“The angel Gabriel was sent”). back to text
This devotional article is taken
from Crusade Magazine, November-December, 1999; a Special Edition
dedicated almost entirely to the Most Holy Trinity and the Blessed
Virgin Mary in the form of a work by Fr. Raymond de Thomas de
Saint-Laurent as a token of reparation for the many blasphemies and
insults that are continuously hurled against them.
Before his assignment in Boucey, Father Chapdelaine confided to his brother that he had "not become a priest for those who already know God, but for those who don’t.”
He wished to enter the French Foreign Missions immediately after
ordination but submitted humbly to the will of his superiors. For seven
years, he would remain in Boucey, under the guidance of the elderly and
infirm pastor, Father Oury. Despite his parish work, Father Auguste
never wavered in his desire: to found a mission church, then die! Still,
he was not getting any younger. When Father Oury died in April, 1849,
Father Chapdelaine was already 35 years old, the age limit to enter the
French Foreign Missions. Yet, despite his ardent desire to enter, he
would serve under the new pastor, Father Poupinet, for another two
years. Then, in January, 1851, Bishop Robiou authorized him to leave the
diocese for the Foreign Missions – if they would have a 37-year-old
priest! Despite his age, Father Chapdelaine immediately reapplied for
admission. In face of such zeal, he was accepted. Returning to La
Rochelle he found his entire family assembled, not to bid him farewell
but to his sister, Victoria, who had just died. After the funeral,
Auguste announced his departure for Paris and let it be known he would
never see his family again. Eight days later, he boarded the train for
Paris. On March 15, 1851, the young man who had entered minor seminary
at age 20 was now entering the French Foreign Missions two years over
the age limit. Not only was his a late vocation but one that would be
forever delayed in the attainment of its goals.
On
October 12, 1853, accompanied by some Christians, he set out for the
missionary territory assigned to him in the Chinese province of Guangxi.
All the hardships of his journeys by sea were now replaced by those on
land: fast-flowing rivers, high mountain ranges, and bandits. Encouraged
by the small groups of Christians they encountered on their way, they
reached the mission at Kouy-Yang in February, 1854 where they were
received by three missionary confreres. While resting and awaiting the
opportunity of penetrating into Guangxi, he was given the pastoral care
of three villages. During this time, he adopted the dress and appearance
of the Chinese: black suit, moustache and long thin beard, and his long
hair bound in a queue down his back. He also wore the black hat common
to Chinese scholars.
I
then dreamed that I rose at six o’clock to go to the chapel. On opening
the door to my room, I stepped on a parcel containing the pages of a
letter. Picking it up and recognizing Ani’s handwriting, I screamed.
Claire!
I
was asleep in my mother’s bedroom. She was sleeping deeply, as her
regular breathing indicated. Suddenly, I heard someone utter my name. An
unfamiliar voice murmured, “What would happen if your father were to
die?”
Once
you reprimanded me because in church, rather than genuflecting, I made
only a hasty nod of my head. You thought it was laziness, not suspecting
that I already no longer believed in the presence of Christ in the
Blessed Sacrament. I now believe it, though only naturally, in the
manner that one believes in a storm, the signs and effects of which one
perceives.
At
this stage of my life I would hypocritically run off to church during
the office lunch hour, to the good-for-nothing priests, the mumbling of
the Rosary, and other foolishness.
A
week ago—I speak to you in terms of the way in which you measure time;
judging by the pain I have endured, I should already have been burning
in Hell for ten years—on a Sunday, my husband and I went for a drive, my
last one.
Romanus
was just 35 years old when he dedicated his life to that of a hermit,
living humbly in prayer in the Jura Mountains between Switzerland and
France. At first, Romanus lived under the protection of a large tree,
and survived on the seed he had brought with him. Before long, however,
he was joined by his brother, sister and a number of other followers.
The brothers’ built two monasteries and a nunnery for their sister and
each sibling governed their respective establishments.
