What Does the Rosary Accomplish in Relation to Us?

We have a case here in which the updaters of the handbook are actually more zealous for the prerogatives of the Apostolic See than that See itself or the Rosary Confraternity. The handbook says that a member has to recite twenty decades of the Rosary per week. The Confraternity, however, disagrees. Members must recite fifteen decades of the Rosary per week. Putting this difference aside, the information that is conveyed in this appendix is a good opportunity for us to meditate on the reason why the Rosary is highly privileged by Heaven, deeply loved by Our Lady. Why is it that this devotion should be so loved, even in preference to Our Lady's office?

The answer to this question is without doubt that the Rosary is, as St. John Paul II tells us, "a compendium of the Gospel." It is a way of meditating on the entire Gospel of Christ in a relatively short period of time. Further, it is highly portable and convenient and can be done in every place and at nearly any time. It can even be done, if need be, without beads, since God in His kindness has given us ten fingers. The Mother of God loves this devotion, because it is an easy entree into intimacy with her and her Son by sharing their life, which is the substance of the Gospel itself.

What does the Rosary accomplish in relation to us? Probably a great multiplicity of things, but the following are the most obvious:

First, the recitation of the Most Holy Rosary accomplishes that intimacy mentioned above with Our Lady and Her Divine Son. How can ever achieve a close relationship with any other person? The only way is by sharing their life and experiences, remembering their joys, sorrows, inspirations and exaltations along with them, until we too become participants in those same joys, sorrows, inspirations and exaltations. An analogy from my own experience would be family storytelling. My grandparents and parents would often, when we were children, tell stories from the history of the family that took place before I was born. Eventually, we knew the stories so well that it was almost as if we were there.

Secondly, the Rosary creates stillness. The Rosary, like all forms of meditation, requires silence. There is too little silence in today's world, but silence is necessary for salvation. The Rosary helps us to cut through the noise. It lifts us up above the din of the world to a lofty summit where we can contemplate eternal things. It is true, of course, that what we are meditating on are historical events, but they have also become eternal mysteries, ever present in the Kingdom of Heaven, where we have access to them through humble prayer. These quiet rooms in the Heavenly Kingdom are places to which we can and should resort often, so that we are continually breaking the hold that our passions have on us, as well as the love of contingent things.

Lastly, the Rosary has a way of creating the virtue of humility in us. I believe the more we pray it, the humbler we will become. Why would this be so? Firstly, because of the method. It is fundamentally unfancy. It's just beads and the same prayers over and over. At the same time, however, it's demanding. We are bound to fall short of its intended recitation. Our undisciplined minds are bound to wander off into countless reveries. Each time that happens, Our Lady, like a schoolmistress, recalls us to what we should be doing. On each such occasion we are humbled when we realize we are no better than small children haltingly stammering out our lessons. We often come close to what the Cistercian spiritual writer Eugene Boylan referred to as "the Prayer of Stupidity," as we find ourselves completely incapable of meditating on anything, except in a very vague way. In the end, we are forced to accept our limitations and trust our Mother that she will make up and remedy whatever is lacking in our prayer.

Secondly, the Rosary also brings us the virtue of humility, because of the greatness of the things that we are contemplating. Just as Our Lady's cousin, the saintly Elizabeth exclaimed, "who am I that the Mother of my Lord should come to me?", so we often perceive the honor of having access to these quiet rooms, where we have conversation with Our Lord and Our Lady themselves. We are struck by the enormous incongruity between us, slaves of our passions, and the holy personages that we meet in our reflections. Again, we are humbled, but our humiliation brings forth trust, rather than shame. The Holy One Himself welcomes us, He wants to be with us, He wants to share His life with us. May we become wholly His through this prayer.