Mary's Sorrow, part II

As I made my way into adulthood, I had a full understanding that my faith was self-designed, in other words, it was lightweight (lukewarm, if I want to be theologically accurate.)  Take a look in the bible as to what Christ says about lukewarmness.  While I remember a seriousness of my childhood while at Mass, a mantilla on my mother's head and her hands pressed to her face after receiving the Eucharist, a hush that remained from the time we entered the church until we were outside, that all seemed to dissolve as I grew.  Something had changed ...and I was told that the Church had become "fresher", more approachable, freer.  So, like any good conformist, I adapted.  And while I adapted, I lost.  I lost the awareness of His awe, His presence, His wonder.  I lost my own smallness before God, and like God, felt I had equal say in what was true or not true, to be believed or not to be believed.  Really, how I categorized my faith and how I would live it, depended on how I 'felt' about it.  Does this particular teaching appeal to me? No, not right now ...so it must be stupid, dumb, outdated.  That's pretty much how I operated.  After all, the nuns had tossed their veils and donned crocheted vests, they must know something far better than the old silly men on the altar.  Driving this home for me was the whole sense of women's liberation coming into full swing as I entered college.  We were advised to shoot for the moon ...be anything and everything you wanted.  No one asked us if we thought about motherhood, marriage ...why should they?  Daycare centers flourished.  Why, now we could work at a spectacular career, be married and have children only to be raised by someone, or something else.  No one asked the question ...'do you want to be a mother, because it requires you to be PRESENT in your child's life?' No one asked.  Professors named their children with gender neutral names, paraded proudly that they were now divorced.  Life was so much better when we didn't have roles, when nothing was greater than us, when we answered to no one.  Right?  But something nagged at me.
My own mother, a physician, having gone to medical school when women simply didn't, often remarked that the women's movement was the demise of the American mother and family.  I snickered when she said this, but also privately pondered that observation as she desperately struggled to pass on her joys of motherhood even among the years of sorrow and hardship.  Her backdrop had shifted.  No longer were Catholic mothers raising their children in a world that passed on the tradition of keeping God at the center and in His rightful place.  Her anchor, her foundation was crumbling.  She never told me this, but I am beginning to understand, I think, her struggle to hang on to her own identity at the very time it was being robbed, not only from her but from her children ...from all of us born into the faith. I look at my own life now, see the pattern mimicking hers.  She raised us, herself, she was present.  My mother, for better or worse, gave us her very best.  She loved adult conversation, yearned for it, yet she chose her children and gave up her own desirable, prestigious career to wipe noses and change diapers.  She sacrificed!  Remember that word?
Mom was well into her fifties before she would chase some of her own dreams.  This determined woman (and if you ever knew her ...you know full well her determination) set her preferences aside until she had given us the roots and wings to make our own way.  We went without.  Period.  We didn't travel, buy fancy clothes, eat out except for the yearly birthday dinner, have the latest and greatest.  We made do.  Imagine!  It was radically different from today when our children are instantly gratified.  All around us appetites are quenched with everything ...everything, except God.  I realize I am painting a wide generalization, but my point is to make note of how far we have traveled away from the very core of our existence ...away from God.  There is no satiation ...until we come to God.  We will chase it our whole life, bigger/better, faster/brighter, whatever the trend, we are steeped in a culture of pure desire ...and it pulls and tugs and yanks our kids ...away from God.  It's not the things themselves that are bad ...it's that one's importance, one's value, is far, far too often measured and appraised by the things that own them.  Sadly, the world confirms this.
And at least where I live, with few exceptions, the Church has been silent ...turning a deaf ear to those of us who have reached and asked for guidance, reinforcement, support.  Rosaries have been called 'mumbo jumbo' beads, adoration referred to as 'cookie worship', Catholic hospitals guiding people to abortion clinics. We have been wounded and marginalized ...but ...and this is very important ...we have been made stronger in our faith, greater defenders of the Truth ...and we may be small in number, but rich in love for the Truth.  And to think, it is those 'mumbo jumbo' superstitious beads that continue to save me ...

Today is the Feast of the Ascension, a day when all Catholics, truly living their faith, find themselves at Mass, during the week ...no matter how inconvenient.  I say it that way because so many people I love and respect think its 'really not a big deal' ...but it is ...to miss Mass on a day so holy as this is a rejection of grace and participation in the mystery of Christ's life ...it is a mortal sin, something that's no so much in fashion these days ...yet remains real.  We simply cannot dabble.  If you haven't already, jump in with both feet.  Remember, God's generosity will NEVER be outdone ...EVER.  If you make that big leap to give to him when it isn't easy and you don't 'feel' like ...He will come back to you a thousand fold and more.  Take that from a mother whose beautiful daughter has died.  If I gave in to my 'feelings', my schedule, God wouldn't be on my calendar.  Against what I wanted ...I chose to trust God, and guess what? ...profound grace beyond my wildest dreams has come my way.  Has it eased the pain ...no. Taken away the sorrow ...no.  Has it comforted me ...beyond words.  On this great day, the day Christ promised us the Holy Spirit to dwell among us let us ask that all our prayers and petitions ascend with Him.

Eternal rest grant unto Phoebe and may perpetual light shine upon her.  May she rest in peace. Amen