And a Sword Your Heart Shall Pierce: The Feast of Candlemas

“Can a woman forget her infant, so as not to have pity on the son of her womb? And if she should forget, yet will I not forget thee” (Isaiah 49:15).

The events that inspired the Feast of Candlemas (celebrated liturgically on February 2nd) are those of the Fourth Joyful Mystery: the Presentation of Our Lord in the Temple and the Purification of Our Lady.

The scenes are rich with imagery and ripe for consideration.

Indeed, a person like me could easily spend an hour in meditation on a day like the Feast of Candlemas, provided I was duct-taped to the chair.

Which is to say that I’m a twitch.

And which is to say that I am less prone to pondering things in my heart than I am to running them through my mind along with a lengthy to-do list. Our Blessed Mother and St. Joseph enter the temple. Check! Thaw ground beef. Check! The prophet Simeon approaches. Check! Make husband’s lunch, eat breakfast and check my e-mail. Check! Check! Check!

I am such a work in progress.

And the fact of the matter is that I should be spending hours in contemplation of this mystery because I have myself recently offered a child to God.

In my own little way, I lived the Presentation.

And a sword my own heart did pierce.

This past week has not been easy. I labored to deliver my stillborn child on Wednesday evening and when he finally did arrive, it was at the very moment of another son’s First Confession.

My mother’s tears of joy were mingled with my cry of anguish.

“Behold,” said the prophet Simeon, “This child is destined for the rise and fall of many…”

Well, that’s life. I say this certainly not to be glib or overly pat in my assessment of what I went through. Oh my goodness, far from it. But this is life! Sorrow follows on the heels of happiness; pain follows pleasure in rapid succession.

I see how on this double feast that I,too, was chosen to be purified.

But unlike the Blessed Mother, I really need it.

In Caryll Houselander’s Wood of the Cradle, Wood of the Cross, she explains (with tremendous insight for a woman who herself never bore children) that “there is nothing more mysterious than infancy, nothing so small and yet so imperious. The infancy of Christ has opened a way to us by which we can surrender self to Him absolutely, without putting too much pressure on our weak human nature.

“Before a child is born,” she continues, “The question which everyone asks is ‘What can I give him?’ When he is born, he rejects every gift that is not the gift of self.”

How very true. With every birth of every infant, a woman is asked to suffer. She must overcome even her basic needs for sleep and recreation, at times, in order to provide for this ever-fussy, ever-needy little person.

And she does so…willingly! At least, she ought to.

She’s a mother.

It’s what we do.

The Feast of the Presentation is a chance for us to consider the great gift that is our children. They are our sanctity! A child is a complicated gift, however; he or she is not really ours, and we must be at peace with giving the gift back to the Giver when He asks us.

Our offering of two turtledoves, only much much harder.

You know, I wonder at which point of Simeon’s prophecy Our Lady clutched her precious babe ever more fiercely to her heart. Was it when a stranger tried to take Him from her? Or was it when the words of the stranger’s prophecy hit home?

As always, Mary overcame her fear of sin and suffering.

She handed over her child and listened to what God was saying.

And she was brave.

She was brave then and she was brave 33 years later. Oh, how brave was Mary!

Who among us, like Our Lady, would actually choose to witness the death of our children? No, I think that most of us, given a choice, would leave this world like St. Joseph, surrounded by our spouse and our beloved children.

But we don’t have a choice, do we.

We are given our crosses daily and asked to bear them. Sometimes the burden seems easy and other times, almost unbearable.

Yet, there would be no cross had there been no sin.

And sin is oh so ugly.

Are we brave enough to take a peek?

• child abuse
• abortion
• incest
• pedophilia

…is but a partial listing of the dark, dark evil we are fighting. These are ugly words for a beautiful feast, and I apologize. Yet, how the human race needs salvation!

Our weapons are mighty, dear mothers. They are redemptive suffering and prayer.

I did not choose to “present” my child with such…finality, but I look to Our Lady to assist me.

And I know that my love for my baby is pure and holy, for as Houselander explains so beautifully, “everything felt for an infant by everyone in whom human nature is not dead is a dim reflection of God’s love for the world.

“He comes to us, as He Himself has told us, in those whom we know in our own lives. Very often we do not recognize Him. He comes in many people we do not like, in all who need what we can give, in all who have something to give us, and for our great Comfort. He comes in those we love, in our fathers and mothers, our brothers and sisters, our friends and our children” (italics mine).

There are many great graces to be gained on the Feast of Candlemas: for ourselves, for our families, and–yes, my friend–for the world.

The above painting is by Fra Angelico and is entitled “Presentation in the Temple” (1440-41); Cell 10, Convent of San Marco, Florence