Wednesday, May 25, 2016

May 24 – Mary Help of Christians: the mother that's right for you




There is this true story about the Catholic Church in Japan. At the end of the sixteenth century, all foreign missionaries were expelled from Japan, where the seeds of faith had just been planted and were beginning to sprout.  Vicious persecutions followed and lead to the gruesome persecutions like the martyrdom of St Paul Miki and companions. Catholicism was banned and they thought was eradicated.

But two hundred sixty years later, missionaries returned.  In a remote corner in the northeastern part of the country, Jesuit missionaries landed and discovered a tiny village where hundreds of inhabitants gathered every Sunday to pray the Apostles creed, the Our Father, Hail Mary, the Glory Be, and then recite the ten commandments and the eight beatitudes.

Shocked by what they witnessed, they asked where this custom came from. The Japanese villagers replied that sometime in the distant past, men whom they called “fathers” had taught those words to the people and as they anticipated their martyrdom instructed the people to memorize the formulas and gather every Sunday to recite them together in the hope that in the future other “fathers” would return to teach them more about Jesus. Ecstatic, the priests announced: “We are those fathers.”  But the villagers were suspicious, so their leader said: “Those fathers told us that when men claiming to be “fathers” come, we must ask them four questions to be sure they are from the true Church.”
The priests agreed though nervously.

(1)“When you enter your Churches, what do you do?” The Jesuits replied by demonstrating a genuflection, which met excited gasps from the crowd.
(2)”Where does the earthly leader of your Church live?” “In Rome” came the answer and the crowd were whispering to each other now.
(3) “ Do you fathers have wives?” “No” answered the priests and the crowd were now beaming with smiles?
(4) “Does your Lord have a mother and what does she do?” And humbly the priests replied: “Yes and her name is Mary and she helps all Christians.” With that the village broke into a tumult, hoisted the missionaries on their shoulders and led them into their little church which had not seen a priest for the past 260 years.
Mary indeed is the Helper.

In Antioch, the followers of Jesus were called Christians for the first time, and of course they had mother Mary to help them. She is Mary, the Help of Christians although that title was not formalized. Later on the early Church Fathers will refer to her as Boeteia, the Helper- this was recorded by St. John Chrysostom in 345. 

Devotion to Mary under this title became popular in Europe during the pontificate of Pope Pius V and the wars against the Islamic Ottoman Empire. She was invoked under this name by Christian armies who were summoned by Pius V to defend Europe from an impending invasion by the Empire in 1571. The Pope asked his soldiers to invoke Mary under this title as they prepared for the famous Battle of Lepanto in which the Muslim Turks were miraculously defeated by a much smaller Christian force.

A feast day for Our Lady Help of All Christians was not instituted until the pontificate of Pius VII who prayed for Mary’s intercession under this title while in prison for three years during the reign of Napoleon. He was set free in 1814 and his triumphant journey back to Rome was a cause of great celebration throughout Christendom. Along the way, the pontiff visited many shrines of Our Lady where he crowned her images in thanksgiving. He entered Rome on May 24, 1814. A year later, he instituted the same day as the feast of Our Lady Help of Christians to commemorate the anniversary of his return to Rome.

Devotion to Mary under this title quickly spread throughout the Christian world, most notably with St. Don Bosco who dedicated the mother church of the Salesian congregation to her in 1868. St. John Bosco always prayed: “Most Holy Virgin Mary, Help of Christians...  if earthly mothers cease not to remember their children, how can you, the most loving of all mothers forget me? Grant then to me, I implore you, your perpetual help in all my needs, in all my sorrow, and in all my temptations. Amen.”

Mary was the helper of God. She helped God accomplish His plan to save the world. It does not mean that Mary is stronger than God. It does not mean that God is feeble and helpless. But could you imagine Almighty God, He sought and politely begged for the “yes” of His creature to pursue His greatest plan- his greatest miracle…the word becomes flesh. And this makes Mary his ultimate helper.


"Once there was a little dinosaur called a Maiasaur. (A Maiasaur is named after the goddess Maia which literally means: “Good Mother. They have flat beaks like the duck which they use to harvest plants to eat and take to their young ones.)   
One day she told his mother, "I wish I were special like the other dinosaurs. If I were huge and fierce like a T.Rex (tyrannosaur), I could chomp and bite with my ferocious teeth!" But if you were a T. Rex," said his mother, "how would you hug me with your tiny little arms?" 

"I wish I were a Brontosaurus," said the little dinosaur, "so big and with my long neck I could see high above the treetops."
"But if you were a Brontosaurus," said his mother, "how could you hear me in the treetops when I told you I love you?"

"What makes you so special, little Maiasaur?" said his mother. "Is it your ferocious teeth or long neck or flat toothless beak? 
What makes you special, is that out of all the different dinosaurs in the big, wide world, you have the mother who is just right for you. And who will always protect you and will always love you."


We in our parish have Mary Help of Christians who is just right for us… who will always protect us, and will always love us.  “Have devotion to her and you will see what miracles are.”

Monday, May 09, 2016

Ascension Sunday: Come... Go!


A mother receives her baby for the first time and whispers to him: “I want you to be my baby forever, but I am excited about all the amazing things you’ll do in this life." Now you come, tomorrow you go.  This sums up what Jesus told his disciples: “COME... I want you to be my disciples forever, but GO, I am excited about all the amazing things you’ll do in this life.”  That is the meaning of the feast we celebrate today - The Ascension of our Lord.

Come… the first word of Jesus to his disciples. Come, follow me.  Lord where do you live? What do you do? Who are you?  Come and see. Come learn from me. Come stay with we. Come, I want you to be my disciples forever.

Go… the last word of Jesus to his followers just before he ascended into heaven. Go, be my witnesses. Go make disciples of all nations.  Go and baptize. Go and preach the good news. And I will be with you until the end. Go, I am excited about the amazing things you’ll do in this life.

Come... the first word of a mother to her baby… Go… her last word to her grown child. Remember how you teach a child to walk. You let him/ her stand up holding something stable, then you move away a few feet, and tell him/her: Come to Mama.  

Then when the child grows older and can walk by himself, you tell him/her: 

Go! Go out and play, go to your room and study, go clean the car. Go have a life, go get married… start your own family… or in my case go to the seminary… And of course mom’s greatest fear is that the child may never come back.  But that is also mom’s greatest glory.  Go… and make your mark in this world. Go make your mama proud.

There is this inspiring story I read: “My name is Mildred Honor and I am a former elementary school music teacher from Iowa . I have always supplemented my income by teaching piano lessons – something I have done for over 30 years.  I found that children have many levels of musical ability.  I have taught some very talented students. However, I have also had my share of ‘musically challenged’ pupils – one such pupil being Robby…

Robby was 11 years old when his mother (a single mom) dropped him off for his first piano lesson. Robby said that it had always been his mother’s dream to hear him play the piano, so I took him as a student. But from the beginning I thought it was a hopeless endeavor. As much as Robby tried, he lacked the sense of tone and basic rhythm needed to excel. But everyday, he dutifully reviewed his scales and some simple piano pieces that I require all my students to learn and he kept saying: “I just want my mom to hear me play the piano.” 

Over the months he tried and tried while I listened and cringed and tried to encourage him.  At the end of each lesson he would always say ‘Someday, my mom’s going to hear me play the piano’. But to me, it seemed hopeless; he just did not seem to have a musical talent.  I only knew his mother from a distance as she dropped Robby off or waited in her old car to pick him up. She always waved and smiled, but never dropped in.

Then one day Robby stopped coming for his lessons. I thought about calling him, but assumed that because of his lack of ability he had decided to pursue something else. Several months later I mailed a flyer recital to the student’s homes. To my surprise, Robby (who had received a flyer) asked me if he could be in the recital. I told him that the recital was for current pupils and that because he had dropped out, he really did not qualify. He told me that his mother had been sick and unable to take him to his piano lessons, but that he had been practicing at a friend’s house.  ‘Please Miss Honor, I’ve just got to play for my mom.’

The night of the recital came and the high school gymnasium was packed with parents, relatives and friends. I put Robby last in the program, just before I was to come up and thank all the students and play a finishing piece. I thought that any damage he might do would come at the end of the program and I could always salvage his poor performance through my ‘curtain closer’.

Well, the recital went off without a hitch, the students had been practicing and it showed. Then Robby came up on the stage. His clothes were wrinkled and his hair so disheveled. ‘Why wasn’t he dressed up like the other students?’ I thought. ‘Why didn’t his mother at least comb his hair for this special night?’

Robby pulled out the piano bench, and I was surprised when he announced that he had chosen to play Mozart’s Concerto No. 21 in C Major. I was not prepared for what I heard next. His fingers were light on the keys; they even danced nimbly on the ivories. He went from pianissimo to fortissimo, from allegro to virtuoso; his suspended chords that Mozart demands were magnificent!

Never had I heard Mozart played so well by anyone his age.
After six and a half minutes he ended in a grand crescendo, everyone was on their feet in wild applause! Overcome and in tears, I ran up onstage and put my arms around Robby in joy. ‘I have never heard you play like that Robby, how did you do it?

Through the microphone Robby explained: ‘Well, Miss Honor … Remember I told you that my mom was sick? Well, she actually had cancer and passed away this morning. And oh, she was born deaf, so tonight was the first time she had ever heard me play from up there, and I wanted to make it special.’

There wasn’t a dry eye in the house that evening. As the people from Social Services led Robby from the stage to be placed in to foster care, I noticed that even their eyes were red and puffy. I thought to myself then how much richer my life had been for taking Robby as my pupil.  He was the teacher and I was the pupil, for he had taught me the meaning of perseverance, and that anything is possible if you love your mother. 

Unfortunately Robby was killed years later in the senseless bombing of the Alfred P. Murrah Federal Building in Oklahoma City in April, 1995. I believe he is now together with his dear mother in that place where they play the heavenly music of the angels.”

God’s motherly love reminds us today: “I want you to be my baby forever, but I am excited about all the amazing things you’ll do in this life." Happy Ascension Day. Happy Mother’s Day.

Reference:

Emery, D. (2001) The Piano Teacher.
http://urbanlegends.about.com/library/weekly/aa062501a.htm