Preparatory Prayer: "My face hath sought Thee; Thy face, O Lord, will I still seek . . . Be Thou my helper, forsake me not." Psalm 26.
Setting:
A very young woman, walking all alone and swiftly, across mountain country. She is with child, having recently conceived, through the power of the Holy Ghost, in a miraculous manner. If every normal mother loves her child, looks forward eagerly to his coming, and speaks to him often while he is still in the womb, surely Mary speaks much to Jesus as she travels over the Galilean hills. And she is willing to share with me the delights of this conversation. It is for this purpose she invites me to accompany her in spirit as I draw near my place of prayer this morning. Human love, because it is necessarily limited, must be less in quantity and quality according as it is distributed over a greater number of persons. Divine love, being infinite, can embrace all. It is unthinkable that Mary would be in any way jealous of her possession, so as to be reluctant to share it. Rather is it her most ardent desire that I should learn the lovableness of Christ by meeting Him in this meditation.
Fruit: Abiding gladness of soul, built up on my realization of divine truth.
1. No sooner has the angel gone from Our Lady than she rises "with haste" to go into the hill country. Her cousin Elizabeth will have need of Mary, and Mary goes at once. It would probably have been much pleasanter for her to remain where she was, kneeling in her kitchen with her arms crossed over her breast, lost in wondering contemplation of the mystery just effected within her. But she does not remain.
This is an age of activity. It is very possible for us Catholics to become restless; to be unduly excited about works and organizations which, we tell ourselves, are all concerned with God's glory and the spreading of His kingdom. We run entertainments and call committee meetings and organize this drive and this other and keep ourselves habitually preoccupied with all this ceaseless agitation. It is a danger to think we are idle if we insist with ourselves on taking time off to pray and to reflect. Our Lady, it is true, "went with haste," but, be it well noted, she kept her God with her in the midst of her activity.
Mary, teach me to work hard, to do many acts of charity, but, while I work and do my deeds of love, to remember Him all the time. I would learn from you how to join activity to a deep spirit of union and prayer.
There is danger in too much activity. There is also danger in a smugness that refuses to be disturbed, that will not go to help when the call to do so is imperative. It is possible to grow spiritually selfish, so excessively anxious about one's own spiritual welfare as to neglect the neighbor. Between the two extremes I must learn to steer, with Mary in the mystery of the Visitation to serve as my model.
It required no small amount of courage on her part to set out alone and make her journey over the mountain. One trembles to think what might have happened she might have been set upon by bandits, or worse. But Mary knew no fear because He was with her. That same abandonment to divine Providence is characteristic of all God's friends. A striking example in modern times is the American, Saint Frances Cabrini. The story of her amazing trust in God must be read elsewhere, and the courage with which she undertook many new foundations with no human means of supporting them.
I need Mary's courage. On all sides there are works I could do. It is largely because I am a coward that I am not holy.
Give it to me, Mother: some of your fearlessness in doing what He wants me to do.