The Mass, the Rosary, and Finding Unity
Catholic means universal. The readings and the order of the Mass are the same all over the world. I have been to Mass of course all over the U.S., but also in Canada, Ireland, England, Scotland, Germany, Austria, Italy, Spain, France, and Chile. I don’t always understand what is being said, but I can tell by the flow and the intonations where we are in the Mass. I go to Mass every Sunday but I consider it a treat if I can hit a daily Mass during the week. If I could, I’d go every day!
Daily Mass is really stripped down. There’s no music and often not even a homily (sermon). It’s really just the readings/Liturgy of the Word and the second, most important part, the Liturgy of the Eucharist. I remember an old boss, a Catholic convert, told me one of the things she liked about daily Mass was that there were no “resistors.” I thought that was hilarious, and it’s true. Everyone at daily Mass (besides an occasional child), as opposed to a Sunday Mass where most Catholics think that “have to” go, wants to be there!
I always feel calmed, refreshed, and reset after attending a daily Mass. I know part of that is because I’ve attended Mass my entire life. I relate it with my happy childhood, my parents and siblings, even my best girlfriends, since we attended Catholic school together. But I also a addicted to the soothing, consistent format that at times offers me hidden treasures of insight. I believe the Mass is perfect. Maybe the priests and the congregation are not always perfect, but the Mass is perfect.
I say the Rosary all the time. I don’ usually use Rosary beads, just my fingers. I say it when I go for my morning walks, runs, lap swimming sessions. I say it on treadmills, airplanes, in cars, on trains. I say it in doctors’ offices, at tiresome meetings or long or boring or awkward social events. I say it in the middle of the night when I can’t sleep. I say it when I’m anxious, agitated, scared, sad, happy, worried. I say it for no particular reason. I say it to give my roaming mind somewhere to go, somewhere nice to rest.
I love the mysteries, which are the pieces of the story of Jesus we are meant to reflect on while praying the repetitive Hail Marys and Our Fathers. I put myself in the story and try to imagine how all the different people there felt. I try to relate it to my own experiences, problems, joys. That’s how the founder of the Jesuits, St. Ignatius Loyola, did it. I am sometimes creative with it and mix the groups of mysteries up or do a “greatest hits” selection of just the mysteries I like most or find easy to understand.
Someone once told me, “The Rosary is time well spent.” How true!
We prayed the Rosary before my brother’s burial. My father, sister, and I said at least part of the Rosary before my sister’s wedding ceremony, in a little side chapel in the church. I said the Rosary beside each of my parents at their death beds. I kind of used it to say goodbye to them and to get them ready for the greatness of heaven. I verbalized my reflections on each of the Glorious mysteries. I hope they heard me.
I recently have been trying to stop praying “for” things during the Rosary and to start just hanging with Jesus and Mary during the mystery. For instance, the first Sorrowful mystery, the Agony in the Garden, is when the apostles left Jesus right before he was killed so he went to the garden to pray. He was feeling really abandoned and alone. Who wouldn’t under the circumstances? Most of us can relate to feeling forsaken by our friends. So, when I am reflecting on this mystery I just sit beside Jesus so he isn’t alone while I say my Hail Marys. It’s nice to get off the petition-train. There are so many things and people to pray for, and I still do, but it’s nice just to sit in the mystery too.
Two things my mother did during my childhood might account for my interest in the Mass and the Rosary. Throughout my childhood our entire family gave up sweets for Lent. As the older kids grew up and left home and Mom had more time she decided one year that my closest-in-age sister and I, “the babies,” should say the Rosary every day for Lent. Of course it was harder and we didn’t always get it done, but Mom thought it was more of a spiritual growth kind of thing as opposed to just giving up sweets. As kids giving up sweets just made us obsess about having sweets. Another year, when it was just me, Mom and I went to daily Mass every day throughout Lent. I probably didn’t LOVE this at the time, but I have very warm memories of getting to spend one-on-one time with my busy mother-of- seven mother.
I was thinking today that when I go to Mass and when I say the Rosary I am seeking and finding unity as I connect not only to the story of Christ and the Eucharist but to everyone all over the world, old, young, and in between. This is especially important to me now, what with the extreme division we are all experiencing on some level. By engaging in the ritual of Mass I am doing so with over a billion other people, from all over the world, people of different ethnicities and socioeconomic and cultural conditions. Of course everyone is not Catholic, but I can connect with many people through the Mass. This vast community encourages my belief in the possibility for the unity of humanity in general.
When I am participating in Mass or saying the Rosary I am linking with my fellow humans undergoing endless configurations of experience. This association nurtures my own compassion and empathy. When I am praying I am joining a mother worrying about her sick or disabled child. I am with a father who cannot feed his children. I am relating with a young woman who wants to find a husband or parents who want to have a baby or someone who might have just divorced, or a couple struggling in their marriage. I am reaching out and connecting with someone who is lost, marginalized, feeling out of step, someone with an addiction or mental illness, or a homeless person. I am relating with someone who just received a horrible diagnosis, or someone who just lost the person they loved most in the world. I am praying with someone filled with joy and gratitude. I am praying with someone who just made the worst mistake of their life. I am praying with someone who fears being deported, or someone who was just deported or someone who must flee their country. I am praying with someone who has bombs falling down all around them or someone who has lost or never had any rights. I am praying with someone who has a moral conundrum. I am praying with someone who lost their job. I’m praying with a bullied middle schooler. I am praying with someone who is about to die or someone who is grateful for a cure.
I am praying and connecting to the joyful, glorious, sorrowful, and luminous events of every person, living or dead. I am connecting to them and praying with everyone in the entire world.
There is unity in that.
It’s very cool.
