Mother of Divine Grace

May 2

“Tradition ascribes to Mary the titles Mother of Divine Grace, Mother most amiable, Mother most admirable, Mother of Mercy… God has chosen her to be treasurer and dispensatrix of all His graces.. . . Since Mary has formed the Head of the predestined, Jesus Christ, it pertains to her to form also the members of the Head, who are the true Christians . . . She has received from God a special power to nourish souls and to make them grow in Him. St. Augustine goes so far as to say that the predestined in this world are enclosed in Mary;s womb and that they come to the light only when their good Mother brings them forth to eternal life. It is to her that the Holy Ghost has said; ‘Take root in my elect’ (Eccl. xxiv, 13) —- roots of profound humility, of ardent charity and of all the virtues.”

-Reginald Garrigou-Lagrange, O.P.

Today’s Reflection

Following is an excerpt from a poem written by Gerard Manley Hopkins about Our Lady under this title. Prayerfully read the poem. In light of the above quote, which verse(s), phrase(s), or word(s) from the poem echoes St. Augustine’s concept of the “world enclosed in Mary’s womb” and the idea that Mary brings us forth to eternal life? What other similarities do you see between the above quote and the sentiments of the poem? To what extent does this increase your appreciation of Our Lady’s role in your own salvation?

from, Mary Mother of Divine Grace, compared to the Air we breath

Wild air, world-mothering air,

Nestling me everywhere,

That each eyelash or hair

Girdles, goes home betwixt

The fleeciest, frailest-flixed

Snowflake; that’s fairly mixed

With riddles, and is rife

In every least thing’s life;

This needful, never spent

And nursing element;

My more than meat and drink,

My meal at every wink;

This air which by life’s law

My lungs must draw and draw

Now, but to breathe its praise, —

Minds me in many ways

Of her who not only

Gave God’s infinity,

Dwindled to infancy,

Welcome in womb and breast,

Birth, milk, and all the rest,

But mothers each new grace

That does now reach our race,

Mary Immaculate,

Merely a woman, yet

Whose presence, power is

Great as no goddess’

Was deem̀d, dream̀d; who

This one work has to do –

Let all God’s glory through,

God’s glory, which would go

Thro’ her and from her flow

Off, and no way but so.

I say that we are wound

With mercy round and round

As if with air: the same

Is Mary, more by name,

She wild web, wondrous robe,

Mantles the guilty globe.

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