MARY, A MODEL OF PERFECT SELF-DENIAL FROM HER BIRTH.
LET all who are devout to the most holy Virgin approach the cradle in which lies the royal infant, Mary. Consider attentively this sacred child, and you will see how perfectly she practises every virtue. Ask the Angels, the Cherubim and Seraphim, who surround her, if they equal this little creature in perfection, and they will all reply that they are immensely inferior to her in graces, in merits, and in virtue. Contemplate, Children of Mary, those heavenly spirits around her cradle, and you will hear them repeat in ecstasies of admiration of her beauty the words of the Canticle of Canticles: Who is she that goeth up by the desert as a pillar of smoke of aromatical spices of myrrh, and frankincense . . . Who is she that cometh forth as the morning rising, fair as the moon, bright as the sun, terrible as an army set in battle array?
This virgin child is not yet glorified, but glory is already promised her; she expects it, not like others, in hope, but with certainty. On this account the celestial spirits, enraptured by such incomparable perfection, cease not to celebrate her praises.
Meanwhile, this most perfect Virgin lies in her poor crib, and there practises, in a most special manner, the virtue of self-abnegation. Consider, I beseech you, how, amidst angelic praises, she wishes to appear like all other children of Adam. Who will not be filled with admiration and love, to behold Mary in her cradle, full of grace, endowed with the perfect use of reason from the first instant of her Immaculate Conception, able to meditate upon the perfections of God, filled with His love, and entirely resigned to His holy will; and yet, notwithstanding such privileges, wishing to be considered and treated as a poor little infant, without in any way manifesting the precious gifts she possessed? O my God! how attractive is such a spectacle; and not only attractive, but wonderful; and how clearly does it convince us of her perfect renunciation of all that savours of worldly pomp and glory and ambition!
The second kind of abnegation which this august Virgin teaches us to practise, is the renunciation of the flesh, of which in her nativity and infancy she offers us most moving examples. Children are obliged to make many sacrifices, and the more they are attended to, the more are their affections and inclinations opposed. These mortifications, nevertheless, are not occasions of merit to them, for they have not yet acquired the use of reason. But the most holy Virgin, being endowed from her infancy with the perfect use of reason, exercised the virtue of self-abnegation in a wonderful degree, enduring voluntarily all these contradictions and mortifications.
The third kind of renunciation is that of our own judgment and will, even in things which seem to us better than those that are commanded us. This includes what is most difficult and meritorious in the way of Christian perfection. How excellently did the most holy Virgin practise this abnegation in her nativity! Although possessed of the use of reason, she never made use of her liberty to manifest it. We always see in her a constant state of dependence. When she goes to the Temple she is led by her parents; through obedience to them she gives her hand to a humble carpenter, although she had consecrated her virginity to God. She leaves Nazareth for Bethlehem, flees into Egypt, and returns to Nazareth; and in all these journeys, as well as in all the other vicissitudes of her life, she maintains perfect subjection and docility. She even assists at the death of her Son and her God, through submission to the decrees of Heaven, her will being perfectly united to that of the Eternal Father. It was not by constraint, but with the full concurrence of her will, that she assented to the death of this Divine Son, and with humble resignation embraced and adored a hundred times that Cross upon which she saw, without shedding a tear, her only Son expire. What abnegation do we not find in the most holy Virgin! The tender loving soul of this most sorrowful Mother was pierced by unheard-of dolours; indeed, who can ever describe the pains and anguish of her most sacred heart, as she stood immovable at the foot of the Cross? She knew that the Eternal Father willed that Jesus Christ should thus die, and that she should be present at His death, and this knowledge gave her strength to stand there and endure it all.
In imitation of Mary, let us resolve to die to everything and to our own will, that we may live for God alone. Jesus Christ tells us to deny ourselves, to take up our cross and to follow Him. The way of perfection is a Calvary, where it is necessary to crucify ourselves continually, in company with our Saviour; thus forcing nature to die, that grace may live and reign within us. In a word, it is necessary to strip ourselves of the old Adam, and clothe ourselves with the new Adam, and this cannot be done without suffering. I will not deceive you; Christian perfection is difficult, and very great courage is required for so high an undertaking. This perfection consists in an entire self-abnegation, and in a total renunciation of all earthly things. [1]
O my God! when will Our Lady be, as it were, born in our hearts? As for myself I see clearly that I am quite unworthy of such a favour; and as for you, what are your sentiments? Her Divine Son was born in a stable. Let us take courage and prepare Him a place in our hearts; a place made deep by humility, low by simplicity, and wide by charity. It is such a heart as this that Our Lady loves to visit, She dwells willingly near the manger and at the foot of the Cross. Little matters it to her that she lives unknown in Egypt, provided her Divine Child lives with her.
Whether our Lord sends us to the right or to the left, or howsoever He treats us, or makes us as a sign against which all the evils of the world are turned, we will never abandon Him until He has blessed us with eternal blessing. Let us be assured that He is never so near to us as when He appears to be furthest from us; never does He guard us with more jealousy than when He seems to abandon us, and never does He engage in combat with us, but to take more intimate possession of our heart, and load us with His blessings. Meanwhile, let us go on; let us walk through the valley of humble virtues, and how many roses shall we not find amongst the thorns! Charity, which shines in the midst of the most trying afflictions, as well interior as exterior, the lily of purity, the violet of mortification, and how many more! But the lowly virtues that are dearest to me are these three: meekness of heart, poverty of spirit, simplicity of life, together with the practices of visiting the sick, serving the poor, consoling the afflicted, and such like. However, all must be done without solicitude, and in true liberty of spirit. Our arms are not long enough to reach to the cedars of Lebanon—let us then be content with the hyssop that grows in the valleys.
[1] In the way of prayer, at first everything seems painful, and with good reason; because it is a continual war against ourselves. But when we set to work, our Lord on His side assists us so powerfully, and loads us with so many favours, that all the pains and labours of this life become as nothing.—St. Teresa.