Simple Thoughts on the Rosary: Introduction
In one of his homilies St. Bonaventure teaches us how we may visit the Child Jesus in Egypt. What he says may serve as a model for other contemplations. “Now let us dwell for a while on this home-coming of the Lord, for the consideration of these things is right profitable unto piety. Go back, therefore, unto Egypt, that thou mayest visit the Child Jesus, and when thou hast found Him, peradventure with other children out of doors, He will run to greet thee beholding thee, for He is a kindly Child, and pleasant withal to speak to. And kneeling down thou shalt kiss His feet, and taking Him up in thine arms, in silence thou shalt have joy in Him for a little space. And at last, it may be, He will say to thee—Leave hath been given us to return to our own land, and to-morrow we must depart hence: in a good hour hast thou come, for thou shalt go back in our company. And with glad promptness thou shalt make reply that great is thy joy thereat, for that thou desirest to follow Him whithersoever He fareth; and thou shalt take delight in this manner of colloquy with Him. (I said to thee just now, that it is very profitable to ponder in this sort matters that seem childish; afterwards they lead us to greater things.) And then He will conduct thee to His Mother, and honour thee with all courtesy. And for thy part thou shalt fall upon thy knees and do her reverence, honouring likewise the holy old man Joseph; and with them thou shalt abide in quiet.”
Does this seem more like the contemplation of the simple Curé of Ars than of a Doctor of the Church? If so, it may help to correct our false notion that contemplation is something very deep and difficult, fit only for Carthusians and Carmelites, and beyond the reach of ordinary Christians in the world.
Hear, too, how St. Bernard, another Doctor, would have us consider the mystery of the Annunciation. “Hasten, O mothers, make haste, O daughters, to the cottage of Nazareth, where the Angel is saluting Mary. Put your ear to the door to hear what he is saying; it may be you will get some word of comfort for yourselves.”
Surely there is encouragement for us here. Be we as simple and as childlike as we may in our intercourse with Jesus and Mary, we shall be left behind by St. Bernard and St. Bonaventure. Notice how St. Bonaventure warns us not to neglect to “ponder matters that seem childish, for they lead to greater things.” Notice too how practical is the contemplation and prayer of these two great Doctors. We are to “abide with Jesus, Mary, and Joseph in quiet:” to get “some word of comfort for ourselves.” The works and acts that reveal the hearts of Jesus and Mary lead us to reflect on our own hearts and to compare them with theirs. I say to myself—“Is that like me? Have I acted thus? I wish to do so now: help me, Lord!”
We may propose to ourselves as a general fruit “to know our Lord more clearly, that we may love Him more dearly, and follow Him more nearly,” rejoicing with Him and his blessed Mother in the Joyful mysteries; sympathising with them in the Sorrowful; congratulating them in the Glorious. In all learning of them how to comport ourselves in the circumstances of our lives that resemble theirs. We may also gather fruit from the contemplation of the other holy persons we find in the various scenes—from the reverence of Gabriel, the devotion of Simeon and Anna, the obedience of St. Joseph, the penitence of the good thief, the joy of Magdalen in the Resurrection, etc.
The particular fruit we ask may be determined, either by the mystery we are contemplating, which may exhibit some virtue in stronger relief than others, or by the needs of the hour. Thus we may habitually ask for humility in the first Joyful mystery, in which we see God humbling Himself, taking the form of a servant, and Mary humbling herself as the handmaid of the Lord; for zeal, or charity to our neighbour in the mystery of the Visitation, which shows us our Lord hastening to bestow on His precursor the fruits of Redemption, and His Blessed Mother carrying out the precept, “Freely you have received, freely give.” Or we may, as we have seen, go to our Lord or His Holy Mother to open our hearts to them in any pressing anxiety or trouble. A cross looms in the distance and we have to prepare ourselves. We go to the Garden of Gethsemane and to the scenes of the scourging and the crowning with thorns. We follow our Lord along the Way of the Cross, and stand with Mary on Calvary, seeking in all these mysteries for the same fruit—patience, conformity with God’s Will, a trust in Him that no trial can shake. Before our eyes we have the Model of perfect suffering, and the simple, loving contemplation of Him will conform our hearts to His.
We may if we like have a different intention for each decade—e.g., for the Holy Father, for a conversion, for the Holy Souls, and habitually connect our intention with one of the mysteries, Joyful, Sorrowful, or Glorious, that seems to bear most conformity with it, although in every mystery we may find a fruit corresponding with the needs of the hour. Christ descending on to the altar at the time of Holy Mass finds Himself surrounded by as many needs and troubles as there are faithful gathered together. The Church touchingly commends to Him all her needy children in the words—“And all here present whose faith and devotion are known to Thee.” The one Sacrifice offered for all is different in its application to each. Each soul lays its own burden and wants before the throne of grace, and finds grace, its own needed grace, in seasonable aid. The same in its measure is true of the Rosary. No two who kneel in spirit in the chamber of the Annunciation, at the pillar of the Scourging, in the garden of the Resurrection, see the mystery under the same aspect; no two put up precisely the same prayer, or want the same grace. Our bright hours and our hopes we can sanctify by bringing them into contact with the Joyful mysteries: weighed down beneath some crushing sorrow or anxiety, we find in the Sorrowful the support and consolation we need: whilst the Glorious lend themselves admirably to thanksgiving and to that best and highest form of prayer, pure praise, in which the view of self and its needs is lost in all-absorbing delight in the greatness and goodness of God.—“Do you say your beads every day, Biddy?” an old Irishwoman was asked.
“An’ is it a haythan ye’d be takin’ me for!” was the indignant reply. “Would I be niglictin’ the Mother o’ God by missin’ a day? An sure an it’s twice I be savin’ it; only the first half o’ the Hail Mary the second time, an’ that I give her for herself—it’s mane to be always askin’, so it is.”
Could we take a lesson from Biddy, any of us?
We see, then, that there are many, very many ways of saying the Rosary. They are as various as our different characters, needs, and circumstances. No way will commend itself to all, or be suitable, perhaps, for the same person at all times. What we devise for ourselves will probably help us more than anything suggested by another. We may have several methods which may be varied, interwoven, set aside, as moods and seasons succeed one another. What helps to-day may hinder to-morrow. But by a little effort and by practice we can come to be so at home in the scenes of our Lord’s Life, as contemplated in the Rosary, that we turn to them naturally in every necessity, and find in them all we need.
But, it may be urged, why disturb our contemplation by mingling it with vocal prayer, which oftener than not is out of keeping with the subject? And, on the other hand, why use holy words to the sense of which we are not fully adverting? One answer is that, for the generality of us, contemplation for any length of time would be an impossibility without the sustaining force of vocal prayer. Take away the words, and the fifteen mysteries would cease to be what they are to the millions of the Church’s children. Try to meditate on any one of them and you will find this to be so. The words are to the mind what the line is to the train—perfectly distinct, yet keeping it on the right track. Often, however, the words fall in with the subject of our contemplation, and suggest the fittest of terms in which the affections suggested by the mysteries may be expressed. The intention of the Church in thus uniting mental and vocal power is that one should help the other, and it is only in the case of those who are absolutely incapable of the mental part, that the Church dispenses with it as a condition of gaining the Rosary indulgences.
Nevertheless, the combination is to some a real difficulty. It is worth while, therefore, to consider how it may be met. When the words fall in naturally with the subject of the mystery they will be readily acknowledged as most helpful. But when they do not so obviously bear upon it, are they to be strained to bring them into relation with it? Are we to try to connect each petition of the Lord’s Prayer and each phrase of the Hail Mary with some point in the mystery we are considering? To most of us such an effort would be most irksome, not to say injurious.
No doubt the several petitions of the Lord’s Prayer will vary in significance with the mystery under consideration, and the Hail Mary have a quite different meaning in the chamber of the Annunciation, on the road to Calvary, and where the Mother and Son meet after the Resurrection. But unless the connection between the mystery and the words be more or less obvious, a search for it will not help us, and will in most cases be fatal to the ends of prayer.
We may profitably follow the advice to dwell on a word or phrase as long as it affords food for mind or heart; or we may leave the meaning of the words alone, and whilst reciting them give our minds wholly to the mystery we are contemplating. For, from the teaching of the catechism, “those do not pray well who at their prayers think neither of God nor of what they say,” we learn that we may attend to the sense of the words, or, without adverting to these, occupy ourselves with God.
There are those who find a certain “irreverence in using words so holy simply as the sands of a glass for measuring time.” But surely to accompany meditation on the holiest of mysteries with the holiest of words, designed to this end by the Church herself, is no mere measuring of time; rather is it giving to God the reasonable service of the whole being to which the Apostle exhorts us.