Oct 11

Oct 11 The Divine Maternity

L.M.C.

Madonna and Child with St. Anne by Caravaggio, 1605-1606

These days, entrenched in the spiritual battle of motherhood, my thoughts often turn to Mary, the mother of God. For mothers, I believe, are precursors to the eternal victory, an indispensable part of God's plan for salvation. In Mary, we see their ultimate triumph—we see the effect of the mother who raises her child to know, love, and serve God. For through her motherhood, Mary gave life to Jesus, and thereby disarmed the devil. And in her echo, loving and faithful mothers cultivate new Christ-filled souls, more instruments of Satan’s demise.

Mary was, of course, no ordinary mother. She was a woman, unstained by the world—the flawless mother God created for Himself. Surely, He did not need a human mother. And yet, He seemed to prefer the care of one.

For the effect of a mother's love endures, and Mary’s simple efforts were multiplied in Christ, not unlike the loaves and fishes. Steeped in Mary’s love and faithfulness, Jesus emerged as the God-Man who would douse Satan’s claim on death and souls.

Indeed, it was across the sea of Mary’s motherhood that Jesus first walked. Before Jesus poured Himself out for the world, Mary poured herself out for Him—drop by drop—as a loving and faithful mother does. Before Jesus said, “not my will, but thine, be done” to God, Mary said, “may it be done to me according to thy word” to God. Before Jesus taught in the towns and synagogues, Mary hummed Him to sleep with the Psalms, ushered Him into the temple to pray. Before Jesus fed the hungry crowd or healed the bleeding woman, Mary nursed Him from her own breast, dabbed away the gravel from His bloody, stinging knees. It is not hard to see, then, how the devil was unraveled by a loving and faithful mother.

And she was not without opposition. For before the devil and his world hated Christ, it hated His mother. Before it misunderstood Him, it misunderstood her. Mary was perfect—conceived without sin, remaining forever spotless in word and deed and intention. She had not one crack to exploit. But despite—or perhaps because of—this, she was scourged in wrong judgment. For the world attacks the holy to justify itself. And so it went after her motherhood, as it often does today.

I can imagine, only too easily, its taunts, its endless barrage of judgements, how it preferred to see her: That religious fanatic, another barefoot and pregnant nobody. That desperate woman in labor—stupid enough to travel so close to birth—deserving the slime of a barn. Another refugee, with her baby and unemployed husband, here to take the housing and handouts and jobs from the hard-working people of this city. That irresponsible mother who lost her only child for three days. That crazy lady who must have spoiled her son, worshipped him right into this God-complex. That mother who enables her son's offensive behavior, follows him around in support. That mother who let her child suffer—said nothing, did nothing to prevent it, to stop it. That crazy lady who replaced her dead son—while pretending he still lives—with one of his creepy friends. That complete failure of a mother.

Yes, the world had its judgements on her motherhood—all of them wrong, contrary to truth. For the world, under the influence of the devil, could not stand to see Mary as she was, so it chose, instead, to gossip, to detract, to further the false dictates of hateful imagination. But Mary’s confidence was in God; she did not need the approval of the world. She shut out the devil by looking on the world with the same forgiving and determined eyes she passed on to Christ.

And the mother who would imitate Mary is, I think, a serious threat to Satan. For Mary crippled the devil in the simple way of a mother: she loved and served God by loving and serving His Son, her son. She was always rearranging her life for Him. And so it must be that each time a mother says “yes” to God in this way—for the good of her child, in accord with God’s will—Satan is hit with a stinging reminder of the mother of his defeat.

This battle of motherhood is, I think, the most vital and crushing thing I will ever do with my life. It feels, in every way, like defeat. I have not found Mary’s “yes” to be easy, for I did not know beforehand that it would require a perpetual, hidden “no” to self. And unlike Mary, I have cracks across my heart and will that sin and Satan can exploit. But just as God created Mary to be His mother, so I trust He has, quite intentionally, created me for my own motherhood. And Christ floats— yes, even on the choppy, shallow sea of my maternal heart—waiting to be poured into the small souls I am to ready for His final victory.

1 John 4:4-6

Little children, you are of God, and have overcome them; for he who is in you is greater than he who is in the world.

They are of the world, therefore what they say is of the world, and the world listens to them.

We are of God. Whoever knows God listens to us, and he who is not of God does not listen to us. By this we know the spirit of truth and the spirit of error.