Blessed is the Kingdom

She looks at you with an expression of quiet self-containment.  Not sad, not happy.  It’s like she knows something hugely important that you don’t know.  Her small mouth is closed and her chin is down.  Her head inclines slightly to her left—towards the Child she is cradling in the crook of her arm.  He’s the size of a small toddler and is grasping her right thumb with both His hands.  The Child Jesus isn’t looking at His Blessed Mother, but is gazing up at the angel Gabriel who is hovering in the air above Him, holding a Cross.  The icon of Our Lady of Perpetual Help (OLPH) is one of the most widely-recognized and reproduced images of the Blessed Virgin around the world.  You’ve seen this image dozens of time, but you may never have looked at it closely.

The Virgin is looking at us, the faithful.  Her calm serene gaze is directed towards you and towards me.  Dressed in a red robe, which many believe represents the Passion of her Son, she wears a blue mantle overlay which echoes the purity of her perpetual virginity.  The icon captures a moment in the life of Mary and Jesus at a time in His childhood.  Since Sacred Scripture reveals next to nothing about these “hidden” years of our Lord, this image is intriguing.  Tradition long held that this icon was a copy of painting completed by St. Luke the Evangelist while Mary was still living on earth.  For many long centuries Catholics believed that when they looked at this image, they were actually seeing the real face of Mary, the Virgin Mother of God.  We know now that the icon probably dates from the Middle Ages where it traveled from its origin in Turkey on to Crete and finally to Rome.  According to tradition, the Child Jesus is sleeping when He is awakened by a disturbing dream of His Passion.  He runs to His mother’s arms for comfort.  He sees Gabriel with the Cross and Michael the Archangel holding the sponge soaked in myrrh which will be offered to Him on the Cross, as well as the lance which will be used to pierce His side.  In His haste to get to His mother, He’s lost one of His sandals and the other one is dangling loosely from a strap on the other foot.  Mary’s right hand is pointing towards Jesus and His little hands grasp her thumb.

For me, that little untied sandal is a window I can’t resist looking into.  Mary’s sinless hands would have tied and untied those tiny sandals every day as she cared for her Son.  God created her in perfection for the role she was asked to fulfill as the Mother of God.  When I think of Mary mothering Jesus as all human mothers do, I can see her holding Him wiggling in her lap as she ties His sandals each morning.  I imagine all the thousands of other little acts of love and devotion she performed for Him throughout His childhood.  We recall John the Baptist mentioning Jesus’ sandals, too.  He was speaking to the crowds about the coming of the Messiah. “One is coming after me and I am not worthy to unfasten the sandals of His feet” (Acts 13:24-25).  But Mary was worthy. As His mother, she loved doing all the little things for her Son that all mothers treasure doing.  Her hands were created by God to mother Jesus.  And in this icon, her hand is pointing towards Christ.  Mary’s entire life points us to Christ.  We see in this image how Jesus fled to His mother for comfort and reassurance.  We can imagine Him coming to her for help and guidance over the years of His childhood, and always finding her ready to take Him into her arms.  What Christ did is a wonderful invitation for each one of us.  Our Lady is our perpetual help, our comfort, our guidance, our Mother.  Mary always points us the way to her Son.  She longs to bring the whole world to Christ, to her Son.  If Jesus ran to Mary for His comfort and guidance, I pray to follow His example and rest close to her pure maternal heart, wrapped in the arms that held our Savior.

“Remember, O most gracious Virgin Mary, that never was it known that anyone who fled to your protection, implored your help, or sought your intercession was left unaided.”

—The Memorare, a 15th century prayer to the Blessed Virgin Mary
                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                    Today’s post was written by Judy Bowman who lives in North Georgia and writes at the blog tiberjudy. Be sure to visit her there for more excellent reflections like this one!