As long-time readers of this blog know, I have a great devotion to the Virgin Mary. Raised as a Lutheran, I didn’t discover her until I was an adult, and even then it felt for a long time like there was something a little illicit in my fondness for her. Theologically speaking, she was from the wrong side of the tracks.
Thankfully I’ve left those prejudices behind, in part because Episcopalians are happy to welcome the Virgin Mary to the party. And thanks to my friend Darcy (whom I hope you know from her many perceptive comments on The Holy Rover), I discovered the most wonderful celebration of All-Things-Mary: Untie the Strong Woman: Blessed Mother’s Immaculate Love for the Wild Soul
One of the things I love about her book is that it dispels the notion that the Virgin Mary is a meek, mealy-mouthed figure who symbolizes the church’s subjugation of women. As its title suggests, Untie the Strong Woman
Some of the most touching stories in the book are set in places of darkness. Estes writes of working with prisoners behind bars, of counseling deeply wounded and rebellious young women, and of trying to help the desperately poor. She turns conventional Mary imagery on its head with sayings like “Guadalupe is a girl gang leader in heaven.” She describes Latino folk practices like putting a shawl on statues of the Virgin Mary on Good Friday to console her on the death of her son. And she intersperses her stories and poems with beautiful collages, photographs and images of Mary in many different guises and forms.
“Her visits are not rare,” writes Estes. “They are common. No mother withholds herself from her children who cry out in need for her. A mother does not only aid ‘perfected’ children. Quite the contrary, she abides with those who stumble, bumble and suffer….This I can assure you from experience: no matter how deep an exile you have been forced to, no matter what the wound, no matter what disheveled condition your soul is in, no matter what you have done or not done–call and she will be there, as you best can comprehend her.”
There’s this lovely passage too: “Her fingerprints are all over me….Her palm prints are on my shoulders from trying to steer me in various proper and difficult directions.”
My favorite part of the book is Estes’ reflections on a prayer that many Roman Catholics know very well, but which was new to me. It’s known as the Memorare, which is Latin for remember, and it goes like this:
Remember, O most compassionate Virgin Mary, that never was it known that anyone who fled to your protection, implored your assistance, or sought your intercession, was left unaided. Inspired by this confidence, we fly unto you, O Virgin of Virgins, our Mother; to You, we come; before You, we kneel, sinful and sorrowful. O Mother of the Word Incarnate, despise not our petitions; but, in Your clemency and mercy, hear and answer them. Amen.
Writes Estes: “Memorare means Remember! Wake up! It is a command from the soul to remember who you are and what powers have been born into you; that you are the son, the daughter of Blessed Mother…You can hear it, if you cry the words of the Memorare aloud, that it is not ‘just a prayer’; it is an incantation, meaning it is literally meant to be sung out. There is a strong musical cadence to the Latin words, to any language the Memorare is translated into, a sound that is far more reminiscent of sandstorms, stirrups nodding, wooden saddles squeaking. It carries a rhythm that is far more reminiscent of the trot and the gallop, the sway of tent curtains, the sound of those fleeing, than of someone walking flatfooted in and out of buildings undisturbed. Thus, Memorare is a prayer for rough times, to one who knows rough times by heart.”
Thank you, Darcy, for introducing me to this book. It’s always good to spend time with Mary.
I’ve been thinking about Mary a lot this week. I can readily relate to her as a mother suffering over the torment and death of her son I, too, was not raised with Mary, but have discovered her thru coming to the Episcopal church and thru coming here to France. Thank you for sharing the book; I will buy it!
Having lost my mother on Easter Sunday morning of 2005, I have waited seven years to read your words, Holy Rover. I miss her profoundly in moments yet cherish her life and how she lived so deeply true to herself. She would have been a source of comfort to me in subsequent losses and would have rejoiced in every success and happiness I have since found. (I well remember the first Mother’s Day where in the southern Methodist tradition I would no longer wear a red rose to church but instead white signifying my mother no longer lived; I did not attend church that day.)
Strong women have always been and continue to be my delight, model and the deepest well from which I drink. And yes, my mother’s as well as the palm prints of numerous other amazing women are all over me… Hallelujah!
A beautiful post, dearest MP. Thank you for sharing some things about your Mother and that lovely southern tradition of the red and white roses. I would have had a very hard time with putting on my white rose. We all used to go to Mass on the anniversary of my mother’s death though we have all moved farther apart now and it doesn’t happen. I noticed this year that my niece had to remind me of the exact day, and although I’m bad at dates, I remember days.
Of course, Holy Rover, you would choose the Memorare! Being raised Catholic, I cried all the way through that chapter, and when the tears were dried, all I felt was Her strength. It is dog-eared now, written in, with notes at the end of each chapter. Did you notice how she left a blank page at the end of each chapter? I’m sure she left it there so I could use it to make a note of just how she spoke to me at that moment. But was it Clarissa or was it Mary?
Although I have spent a lot of time with Mary, I truly needed to be reminded that I was a daughter of Mary, and not in a think-back kind of way, but in a way that “calls from your soul.” Here are my notes:
–Be strong, because you are protected, upheld by your Mother.
–Be strong, because it is your duty.
–Be your best self, because you are called to do nothing less.
Blessings to all of you wonderful mothers and daughters in this Holy Week!
I received a plaque with the Memorare on it for a Confirmation gift and I can’t tell you how many times I’ve prayed it on my own and with Catholic women in hospice.
This sounds like a great book!