Our Hope in Christ, Assisted by Mary

Solemnity of the Ascension of the Lord

This past Thursday I buried a brother; not a biological brother, but a brother priest.  Fr. Tom Butler was a priest of the Diocese of Lansing, and well-loved for his sense of humor that he shared with his parishioners and with us priests.  And while many of his jokes could not be told in a church, probably not even in polite company, there is one story for which I will always remember him.

Fr. Tom told this story at a regional penance liturgy at St. Anthony in Hillsdale, where he was pastor for many years.  Fr. Tom and his family were originally baptist, but converted to Catholicism.  His mother embraced the faith, but always found a relationship with our Blessed Mother difficult.  Fr. Tom’s brother passed away some years ago in the Dallas, Texas area.  It was a cold day, and so, at the end of the funeral, he and his mother stayed just inside the doors of the church while the casket was carried to the hearse.  As it happened, his mother turned a little, and was noticeably startled.  Fr. Tom asked his mom if she was alright, and she said yes.

A few weeks later, his mom called Fr. Tom.  She said, “Tom, do you remember your brother’s funeral?”  “Yes, mother,” he replied.  “Do you remember when your brother’s casket was put into the hearse, and I was startled?”  “Mother, are you ok?” Fr. Tom asked.  “Yes,” she said.  “When I was standing there, I felt someone tap me on the shoulder.  I thought it was you, but then when I turned, I saw Mary, the Blessed Mother standing next to me.  She said to me, ‘I’ll watch over your son until you can join him.’  Then she disappeared.”

Perhaps it’s not fair to tug at the heart strings on this day the we honor mothers and celebrate the Ascension of the Lord.  But this story is perfect for these two celebrations.  We all know that the Ascension is when Jesus went, Body and Soul, into heaven.  But the Ascension is also our hope, because where Christ has gone, we are meant to follow.  Jesus took our human nature, which He had united to Himself at the Annunciation, and brought it into heaven at the Ascension.  He showed us the way to get there: by following Him with all our heart, mind, and soul.  Because Jesus has gone to heaven, we hope that we can go there, too.

Hope is not mere optimism, a wish that things will go well.  Hope is the grasping of things unseen.  It is, as we might say, the already, but not yet.  Hope is being at the edge of victory, and only having to finish.  Hope is what belongs to us as baptized Christians.  Our hope is that if we have died with Christ in baptism, then we shall rise with Him to new life.  When we are baptized, God does all the work, and we have only to cooperate with His grace throughout our life to claim the prize of victory.  

And how do we cooperate with God’s grace?  Mary shows us how.  Our Blessed Mother watches over all of us, her sons and daughters, and helps us grow closer to her Son.  Mary always said “yes” to God, and that’s how we take our hope and make it a reality.  It’s as simple and as complicated as that: say “yes” to God in all the decisions of our life.  And if we don’t say “yes” to God, Mary, as our loving Mother, picks us up, cleans off our wounds, and encourages us to try again.

Sometimes it may seem like we give Mary too much honor, and go to her too much.  That is often the complaint from our Protestant brothers and sisters.  Some accuse us of worshipping her, which we don’t; we worship God alone, but we honor Mary, the Mother of God.  But think about it this way: Jesus loved Mary, and Jesus’ love is infinite.  So there’s no amount of love that we can give to Mary that would ever even come close to rivaling the love that Jesus showed her.  

And Mary, free from all sin, does not let that honor stay with her.  Because she is the first and only perfect disciple, Mary always takes whatever honor we give her, and directs it toward her Son.  Mary has no selfishness, no pride, no ego that would cause her to take something away from God.  Her soul, as she herself said, proclaims the greatness of the Lord.

So today, as we celebrate the Ascension and Mother’s Day, we celebrate our hope of eternal life in Christ, and our Blessed Mother who helps us make our hope a reality.  Never be afraid to run to Mary to help you make Christ’s life your own in your daily experiences.  Never be afraid to run to your Blessed Mother when you fall down in sin; she will help pick you up and direct you to the forgiveness that God gives to His children.  Cling to that hope that belongs to us as children of God, that where Christ has gone, we are meant to go, too.  If we die with Christ, we will live with Christ, and if we live with Christ daily, then we will reign with Christ for eternity, in the kingdom of heaven, where our human nature is seated at the right hand of the Father in Christ.  

A Mother's Love

Solemnity of the Blessed Virgin Mary, the Mother of God

Of all other humans on earth, Jesus has a special kind of relationship with His mother, Mary.  This probably doesn’t surprise us, as mothers and their children often have a special connection, that a father and his children will never exactly have, because he didn’t carry them in himself for 9 months.  Mary was the perfect disciple, saying yes to God always, and that gave her a unique relationship to Jesus, Himself God-Incarnate.  But Mary also had a special relationship with Jesus, because He is her only Son.  Mothers generally love all children, but their love their own children more.  Mary loved Jesus as her only Son, but also as her God.

If we are members of Jesus’ Mystical Body, the Church, then we should also have a special love for Mary.  And that is why we are here today: not because it’s New Year’s Eve/Day, but to honor and show our special love for our mother.  But, if we are members of Jesus’ Mystical Body, the Church, then Mary also has a special love for us.  And sometimes, that love is made manifest in a particular way.

Fr. Tom Butler is originally from Texas, but he became a priest of the Diocese of Lansing.  His most recent assignment, before he retired a few years ago, was Sts. Charles and Helena in Clio.  He told me this story after he retired and was living in Blissfield in Lenawee County.

Some years back, Fr. Tom’s brother died at a young age, and his mother had the sad duty of burying her son.  Some of you may have had to go through that terrible trauma.  My paternal grandmother did not too long ago.  In any case, Fr. Tom went back down to Texas, around Dallas, where his brother was being buried.  It was an unusually cold, winter day, and at the end of Mass, Fr. Tom, walking with his mother behind the casket, decided to stay inside the church building and not weather the elements.  As the casket was being put into the hearse, Fr. Tom’s mother turned her head, and then started to lose her footing.  She steadied herself, but Fr. Tom said, “Mother, are you okay?”  “Yes, I’m fine,” she said, and Fr. Tom figured that she was overcome with grief at that very powerfully sad moment.  

At this point, Fr. Tom explained that his mother, though a convert to Catholicism, had a hard time giving up some of her Baptist roots.  In particular, she always struggled with the role Catholics gave Mary.  She believed Mary was the Mother of God, but was always afraid that by giving too much of a place to Mary, she would not give enough to God.

A few months after the funeral, Fr. Tom’s mother called him.  “Tom,” she said, “do you remember at your brother’s funeral, when the casket was being placed in the hearse?”  “Yes, mother,” he replied.  “Tom, do you remember me getting a little shaky?”  “Mother, is there something wrong?” Fr. Tom asked as he was getting a little nervous.  “Everything’s fine.  But I need to tell you what happened.  When the casket was being placed into the hearse, I felt someone tap me on my shoulder.  I thought it was you, but then I noticed you were holding my hand.  So I turned, and I saw Mary standing next to me.  And she startled me a little.  But then she said, ‘I’ll take care of your son for you until you come to join him.’  And then she disappeared.  But I knew everything was going to be alright.”  

First, I apologize for those of you who don’t have a kleenex or a handkerchief with you.  Second, while many of us won’t have those extraordinary experiences of Mary’s love, Mary loves us no less, and her care for us is that powerful.  May we show our love for Mary, and may we be receptive to the love of Mary, “now, and at the hour of our death.  Amen.”