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? How does the above quote and the poem relate to yesterday’s considerations?
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.
