Conception and Contemplation

Opening ourselves to God’s love like Mary

12/08/2020

Luke 1:26-38 The angel Gabriel was sent from God to a town of Galilee called Nazareth, to a virgin betrothed to a man named Joseph, of the house of David, and the virgin’s name was Mary. And coming to her, he said, “Hail, full of grace! The Lord is with you.” But she was greatly troubled at what was said and pondered what sort of greeting this might be. Then the angel said to her, “Do not be afraid, Mary, for you have found favor with God. Behold, you will conceive in your womb and bear a son, and you shall name him Jesus. He will be great and will be called Son of the Most High, and the Lord God will give him the throne of David his father, and he will rule over the house of Jacob forever, and of his Kingdom there will be no end.”

Before I arrived here in Fort Smith, the bishop gave me permission to live with the Carmelite friars in Dallas, Texas, for three months. The Carmelites are famous for contemplative prayer, and that’s what I hoped to learn in those three months. The first step of contemplation is to recognize that prayer is far more about what God does rather than what we do. Prayer is 99 percent God’s grace, and only one percent human effort. And even that meager one percent is possible because God helps us. God must carry us in contemplation like a father carries his little toddler on his shoulder so that the child can see everything better.

Carmelite contemplation also taught me why God gave us two eyes and two ears, but only one mouth. God teaches us contemplation even in the details of how he created us; that is, to look carefully with both eyes, and to listen attentively with both ears, but to speak sparingly with our one mouth. Tragically, most of us do all the talking when we sit down to pray; we try to think of something to say. When God called little Samuel in the Old Testament, the priest Eli instructed him: “When God calls you, say, ‘Speak, Lord, your servant is listening’.” Unfortunately, when we pray, we do the opposite, saying, “Listen, Lord, your servant is speaking!” In contemplation, the creature listens and looks, while the Creator speaks and saves.

Today is the feast of the Immaculate Conception, and I am convinced that this feast shows Mary as the model of contemplation. First, however, let’s be clear whose conception we are celebrating today. It is the conception of Mary in the womb of her mother, St. Anne. The Immaculate Conception, therefore, is not the conception of Jesus, but countless Catholics confuse the two all the time. Don’t be that Catholic. The conception of Jesus is celebrated back on March 25, which is nine months before December 25, when Jesus is born. You know nine months is how long a baby is in the womb of his mother. So, today, December 8, is not the conception of Jesus. Got it? Good.

In the Immaculate Conception, Mary models the perfect posture of prayer, where God does everything, and we watch and wait in awe and amazement. Before Mary had hands and feet, before she had ears and a mouth, a nose and eyes, before she had a tongue to talk with or even words to whisper, God lavished his love on her by creating her. And then he protected her from sin from the first moment of her conception as a single cell. He made her immaculate, sinless. Or, as the angel Gabriel said in the gospel, she was “full of grace.” In other words, God lavished his infinite love for her when Mary did nothing to deserve it. And that is perfect prayer: God tells us he loves us and we listen. Speak, Lord, your servant is listening. The culmination of contemplation is to discover how much God loves us, and Mary discovered God’s infinite love at her conception.

Have you ever noticed how much time and trouble we all go to so other people will love us? We make good grades so that our parents will love us. Boys build their muscles so girls will love them. Girls paint their nails, and their faces and later color their hair, so boys will love them. Grandparents give their grandkids whatever they want so they will love them. Priests tell sill jokes in their sermons so that their parishioners will love them. Why do we do all these things? Because there is a deep, dark doubt in every human heart, where we harbor a secret suspicion: does anyone love me? And we spend the rest of our lives – and the rest of our money – trying to force people to answer that question.

Mary’s conception and Mary’s contemplation can give us a short-cut to answer that question, does anyone love me? If we open our eyes and perk up our ears and close our mouths, we might learn how much God loves us. In our relationship with God, he does 99 percent of the work, and we do one percent, and even that one percent we cannot take any credit for. It is a love that we cannot earn and it is a love that we cannot erase, even when we lose our muscles and our hair and our jokes. That is how Mary’s conception can give us a clue about contemplation.

Praised be Jesus Christ!