For those of you who are unfamiliar with the “official” Montfortian consecration to Jesus through Mary, the 33 days of preparation are structured like this:
– a first period of 12 days of prayer aimed at “ridding [oneself] of the spirit of the world,” which correlates pretty well as far as I can tell to ridding oneself of attachment to sin a la St. Francis de Sales.
– then a second period of three weeks, in which prayer, penance, and meditation are all aimed at gaining a grace of knowledge.
Which should shed some light, I suppose, on the real end of the first period of twelve days. The spirit of the world is, after all, a spirit of lies. Ridding oneself of attachment to it is, I guess, a necessary step towards openness to knowledge of the truth.
So, back to the three weeks. Each week, we seek knowledge of a particular person.
– in week one, we ask for the grace of knowledge of the self, so we can see clearly our faults and weaknesses.
– in week two, we strive to know better the Blessed Mother.
– in week three, we ask for the grace to know Jesus.
I figure there is something important in that sequence, which maybe I will understand better as I move through it.
Anyway, I am partway through week one. I don’t feel much of anything, and am aware that I have not poured myself fully into the effort. But I do think I have become aware of a couple of relevant me-specific truths.
Here is one.
I have occasionally complained about so-called “spiritual dryness,” because it is pretty rare that I ever experience the grace of a sustaining emotional reaction in prayer or in liturgy. I just don’t relate to emotion-y stuff. I say that my faith is pretty cerebral. I figured that in the joys of spirit ual consolations, usually defined as finding emotional connection in prayer, I have always been, shall we say, among the poor.
But it came to me as part of this introspection that I mustn’t call this “dryness” or “lack of consolation.” And I especially mustn’t use this experience as an excuse for lukewarmness! Far from being poor, I have had consolations poured richly out on me for years. It is just that the graces and consolations I have received are mostly not feelings of joy or happiness or comfort, or indeed feelings of any kind. I don’t relate to emotion-y stuff, remember? Well, if that is true, then God would know it, wouldn’t He? I am pleased to have thoughts, not feelings, and (I suspect) this is the form of consolations He sends me when He is pleased to send them.
If this is true then it means three things that will, I think, help me.
First of all, I can stop worrying about my feelings. I am not a feelings person. It is not feelings that sustain me in, well, anything. Interesting thoughts are what sustain me.
Second, I can be grateful for these interesting thoughts when they come to me. It is all too easy to attribute them to my own intellect and/or moral character. If they are, indeed, among what is called “consolations” then I must look outside myself for their source and give credit where credit is due.
Third, it turns out that far from being poor I am actually rich in consolations, and so the meanness and poverty of the fruits I produce are my own damn fault. Much ought to be expected of me.
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