God's Ear

Every week before the commencement of Mass our Catholic fellowship prays the mysteries of the rosary. As it so happens, I do not know the concluding prayers, which we use to complete the litany. Talk about embarrassing.  This deficiency is through no fault of the individual leading us. No, not at all.

Such negligence is out of laziness on my part. Do not misunderstand, I am completely absorbed in the Marian mysteries. Well, sometimes. There are always those days in which the mind wanders and no matter what one does to focus, the efforts are futile, at least for me. Nonetheless, regardless of how I attempt to disguise my slothfulness, this lack of preparedness still comes down to procrastination.

Even though the rosary prayers are common, such are not familiar. Foreign. I've heard the concluding invocations a hundred times, probably more, but I just haven't taken the time to commit the words to memory. And, at this moment, those prayers are nothing more than a sequence of words. I realize that particular statement comes across as callous and irreverent, but there is much more to a composed litany than memorizing words and phrases. Of greater significance, I prefer to understand what is being prayed before committing myself with an “Amen". Really, can you imagine arriving at the Pearly Gates, or wherever final judgment will take place, and learn for the first time that you absentmindedly subjected yourself to a slew of promises which were never fulfilled ... that you agreed to do this, that, or the other, but instead chose to do something contrary? Ouch.

So, when the meditative sequence is being brought to a close, which takes several minutes, instead of moving my lips and mumbling as though I know the ending words and their inherent importance, I elect to embrace that span of time for my own personal offers of gratitude and petition.

As it so happens, on this particular morning I was in a capricious mood. Fully cognizant of the fact that the rosary is Marian in nature, I thought it would behoove me to ask Mary to intercede on my behalf to Jesus. In other words, to be my intermediary. (No different than asking a friend to pray for you.) Thus. I proceeded to do just that.

For whatever reason, while engaging Mary as my emissary, it dawned on me that the most foolproof way to reach someone or gain their attention is through their mother. Let’s face it; no matter how mature (old) and independent we become, our mothers possess the uncanny ability to know us better than we know ourselves. This string of thought reinforced my occasional reliance on Mary to intercede. Who would know Jesus better!

Nothing too bizarre about these events so for, right? Ha! Remember, I was feeling whimsical ....

While inviting Mary to deliver my petitions to Jesus, an innocent picture unfolded in my mind. Such was a vision (imaginary) of Mary gently grabbing her son by the ear (which mothers are prone to do), his head cocked sideways because she had his full attention and he had no other choice, Jesus or not, while Mary whispered into his ear, “I’m coming to you on behalf of Karl, he is begging for .... " (Please understand, there is no disrespect intended.)

July 2011