The Framework

A bunch of beads. A Commemorative medal. A crucifix. Good God is that a dead body stuck to it? MEMORIZED Prayers. Repetition. Repetition. Repetition. Marian Devotion. You'd think that SHE was their god.

Alright. There are most of the regular objections that I've come into acquaintance with over the years when defending my affection for this thing.

This circle that has neither beginning nor end.

This seamless continuity has a path which leads to it.

There is the Crucifix.

Next, we walk alittle way in a chaplet which consists of an Our Father, three Hail Marys, and a Glory Be.

Then we are swept into the flow of decades - each preceeded by an Our Father and succeeded by the Glory Be.

Each Decade is an occasion to contemplate one of the "mysteries".

There are twenty of them.

The Joyful Mysteries

The Annunciation of the Angel Gabriel to Mary that she would bear the Christ.
The Visitation of Elizabeth by Mary
The Nativity
The presentation of the Child at the Temple
The Finding of Christ as a young child with the wise men at the Temple

The Luminous Mysteries

The Baptism in the Jordan
The Miracle at Cana
The Proclamation of the Kingdom of God
The Transfiguration
The Institution of the Eucharist

The Sorrowful Mysteries

The Agony in the Garden
The Scourging at the Pillar
The Crowning with thorns
The Carrying of the cross
The Crucifixion

The Glorious Mysteries

The Resurrection
The Ascension
The Descent of the Holy Spirit
The Assumption
The Coronation of Mary as Queen of Heaven

The titles are used to draw our thoughts into a particular event in the life of Christ colored by the various underlying emotions depicted in the title of each set of mysteries.

So what's the deal? You announce a mystery then repeat rote prayers until your mouth grows dry and your lips chap? Sounds like it would bore God to tears.......

If that's all it were, I'd agree.

But, allow me to posit another viewpoint and understanding of what is going on when one prays the rosary.

The rosary, through time, becomes a comfortable old friend. If we're lucky, we're introduced to the practice at a young age. At that point, perhaps, it is a study in repetition, but to good purpose.

Words have inestimable power. And, the words of simple prayers, repeated in this structured flow, are given the opportunity to seep into the corners, the crevices, the deep recesses of ones being. There, they nestle comfortably, like well-thumbed books on a shelf, waiting patiently for moments of quiet. In contemplation, intricate layers of profound meaning are discovered in the well-worn words of familiar prayers.

Is this a function of the divine "opening a door to hidden insight"?

Well perhaps, in some measure. But I believe that revelation also requires a willingness to search. The best place to begin is with the familiar words of the prayers that we come to again and again. Sometimes, it requires nothing more than a willingness to renew our acquaintance with something that we believe we already know very well.

The words that we choose to use color the person that we continually create. I refer to this observation of mine as "writing a life script". As an actor, I know that there are a number of ways to portray a scene. One can "wing it" basically improvising the staging and dialogue as you go along, being careful to listen to the other players who give you "cues" as to where a scene is going. The other way to portray a scene is to study your lines, repeat them over and over in rehearsal, assign specific movement (blocking) to specific lines and know, in advance, where you are and what you are supposed to be saying each moment. Each method has certain advantages and in truth, a superior performance is usually a combination of the two.

In volunteering at hospice, I noted the power of words repeated over a lifetime. At the end of life, we are a summation of the choices that we have made along the way. Sometimes the end is a time of lucidity and clarity and fond reminiscence. Sometimes it is a fog of confusion and half-memory. In both instances, when we stumble, we fall back on the person we were. If one dwelt on petty little things, more often than not, I would hear petty little things dwelt on in the hospice. One woman would repeat over and over to me "Where is he, that Jerk! He doesn't come to see me!" this about a spouse who had pre-deceased her by many years. When you're on auto-pilot, you'll fall back on that "life script" I referred to. Those words, tempered by time and usage, became who she was at the end.

Words have power.

The words of the Rosary have power suffused with grace.

Take a little walk with me and we'll poke the dusty old beads and see what we can shake out of them, or ourselves.