Our Family's Journey To Total Consecration To Jesus Through Mary: A Complete Game Changer

I had a "Little Flower" moment when I was in Detroit this past September. Fr. Ignatius, a priest of the Franciscan Friars of the Immaculate, was giving a talk on the stages of spiritual ascent and outlined it on a whiteboard:

Purgative (Beginner) 

1st-FAITHFUL SOULS 

2nd-GOOD SOULS 

3rd-PIOUS SOULS  

Illuminative (Proficient) [Night of the Senses] 

4th-FERVENT SOULS 

5th-RELATIVELY PERFECT 

Unitive (Perfect) [Night of the Spirit] 

6th-HEROIC SOULS 

7th-GREAT SAINTS 

As I studied the path laid out from my table, feeling like the mountain was too lofty, too out of reach, I remembered the words of St. Therese of Lisieux:

"I leave to great souls and lofty minds the beautiful books I cannot understand, much less put into practice and I rejoice that I am little because children alone and those who resemble them will be admitted to the heavenly banquet. I am glad that there are many mansions in the Kingdom of God, because if there were only those whose description and whose road seem to me incomprehensible, I could never enter there."

I needed help if there were any hope for me. That is when Fr. Ignatius mentioned the spirituality of St. Louis de Montfort and St. Maximilian Kolbe, and the tender devotion of those who are fervent souls, to Mary as a way to Jesus. "Write Mary a blank check," he said, "by totally consecrating yourself to her, and she will lead you to Jesus."

Now this is a tough sell for many people, even devout Catholics, and total blasphemy to Protestants. But I was open to listening. I knew there is no human who was closer to Jesus than his very mother, his first disciple, flesh of his flesh. To give her liberty, to turn my life over to her, to write her a blank check was indeed a daunting prospect because, of course, it meant my life was not really my own anymore. Was she trustworthy? Yes, I had faith in that. So what was holding me back?

It became clear that attachment to my sin and "loving my life" (Jn 12:25) was a hindrance. It was scary too, since Fr. Ignatius made clear that "the blessings our Lady sends....are crosses." What would become of my life, the life of my family, should we consecrate ourselves to the mother of the Lord, totally dispose ourselves to her aid, to lead us to Jesus? Would we lose it all? Would we suffer?

It was as if I had been playing pretend Christian all these years, keeping one foot in the door and one foot out. A blank check. Do you know what Jesus writes in the 'Amount' line when you give him a blank check? "EVERYTHING" All of it. Empties the account. Net zero. Doesn't leave a cent.

When I got back home from the conference, I thought a lot about Marian consecration--what it meant for me, for my family, and for my relationship with Jesus. I knew my weaknesses. I knew my lack of discipline. I knew I needed help (of course) to have any hope of eternity with Jesus in Heaven. I needed friends, allies, and a bodyguard from the forces of evil surrounding us in the culture. People told me about it at the conference, and I had never before heard of such a thing, but that was no accident.

On Friday the 13th of October I took my family to a traditional Polish church in the city for a Mass commemorating the 100th anniversary of the Apparitions at Fatima. A statue of Our Lady of Fatima was in the front of the Church, and we were gratefully able to receive the merciful gift of the Holy Father in the form of a plenary indulgence, and consecrate ourselves and our family to Jesus through Mary, and enrolled in the Militia Immaculata (MI), founded by St. Maximilian Kolbe.

I started praying the rosary, every day. When I came across the 15 promises of the rosary that were given to St. Dominic and Bl Alan de la Roche, I recognized the fruit of this devotion laid out in my own life:

1) Whoever shall faithfully serve me by the recitation of the Rosary, shall receive signal graces. 

2) I promise my special protection and the greatest graces to all those who shall recite the Rosary. 

3) The Rosary shall be a powerful armor against hell, it will destroy vice, decrease sin, and defeat heresies. 

4) It will cause virtue and good works to flourish; it will obtain for souls the abundant mercy of God; it will withdraw the heart of men from the love of the world and its vanities, and will lift them to the desire of eternal things. Oh, that souls would sanctify themselves by this means. 

5) The soul which recommends itself to me by the recitation of the Rosary shall not perish. 

6) Whoever shall recite the Rosary devoutly, applying himself to the consideration of its sacred mysteries, shall never be conquered and never overwhelmed by misfortune. God will not chastise him in His justice, he shall not perish by an unprovided death (unprepared for heaven). The sinner shall convert. The just shall grow in grace and become worthy of eternal life. 

7) Whoever shall have a true devotion for the Rosary shall not die without the sacraments of the Church. 

8) Those who are faithful to recite the Rosary shall have, during their life and at their death, the light of God and the plenitude of His graces; at the moment of death they shall participate in the merits of the saints in paradise. 

9) I shall deliver from purgatory those who have been devoted to the Rosary. 

10) The faithful children of the Rosary shall merit a high degree of glory in heaven. 

11) You shall obtain all you ask of me by the recitation of the Rosary. 

12) All those who propagate the holy Rosary shall be aided by me in their necessities. 

13) I have obtained from my Divine Son that all the advocates of the Rosary shall have for intercessors the entire celestial court during their life and at the hour of death. 

14) All who recite the Rosary are my sons, and brothers of my only son Jesus Christ. 

15) Devotion of my Rosary is a great sign of predestination.


My spiritual director recommended a book for at at home retreat title "Consoling the Heart of Jesus" by Fr. Michael Gaitley, MIC, which I have started reading. I was encouraged that the book opens with the words of St. Therese, the great Doctor of the Church, in her radical "little treatise", helping me to realize that maybe there is hope for me yet in God's great mercy--not in anything I can do or any great pious feats, but by my very inability to do great things:

"Alas! I have always noticed that when I compared myself to the saints, there is between them and me the same difference that exists between a mountain whose summit is lost in the clouds and the obscure grain of sand trampled underfoot by passers-by. Instead of being discouraged, I said to myself: God cannot inspire unrealizable desires. I can, then, in spite of my littleness, aspire to holiness. It is impossible for me to grow up, and so I must bear with myself such as I am with all my imperfections. But I want to seek out a means of going to heaven by a little way, a way that is very straight, very short, and totally new."

I was never a "Mary guy." Like many converts, I struggled for most of my early years as a Catholic of 'what to do' with Mary. I prayed the rosary, but truth be told it wasn't my favorite of prayers, and I struggled with distraction. But now, I don't know what I would do without her. She has changed my life, and brought me closer to her son. I need her help, and I have entrusted myself and my family to her by way of total consecration to Jesus through Mary. I'd encourage you to consider it as well, as she is true to her promises and so much like her Son, is able to be trusted.

The Hard Work Of Mercy

Let's face it: for the Christian disciple, the Works of Mercy--those Spiritual and Corporal--can be just that: work. For those who have devoted their lives to it--religious, missionaries, apologists, and those who work and advocate on behalf of the poor and marginalized, it is their daily way of getting their hands dirty, both literally and figuratively speaking. We are called to do the work, as Jesus' hands and feet. Disciples are called to the harvest field to work.

The Corporal Works of Mercy (Feed the hungry; Give drink to the thirsty; Clothe the naked; Shelter the homeless; Visit the sick; Visit the imprisoned; Bury the dead) are a direct imperative of Jesus. It is pretty straight forward in scripture how it impacts our salvation:

“But when the Son of Man comes in His glory, and all the angels with Him, then He will sit on His glorious throne. 32 All the nations will be gathered before Him; and He will separate them from one another, as the shepherd separates the sheep from the goats; 33 and He will put the sheep on His right, and the goats on the left.  

34 “Then the King will say to those on His right, ‘Come, you who are blessed of My Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world. 35 For I was hungry, and you gave Me something to eat; I was thirsty, and you gave Me something to drink; I was a stranger, and you invited Me in; 36 naked, and you clothed Me; I was sick, and you visited Me; I was in prison, and you came to Me.’ 37 Then the righteous will answer Him, ‘Lord, when did we see You hungry, and feed You, or thirsty, and give You something to drink? 38 And when did we see You a stranger, and invite You in, or naked, and clothe You? 39 When did we see You sick, or in prison, and come to You?’ 40 The King will answer and say to them, ‘Truly I say to you, to the extent that you did it to one of these brothers of Mine, even the least of them, you did it to Me.’ 

41 “Then He will also say to those on His left, ‘Depart from Me, accursed ones, into the eternal fire which has been prepared for the devil and his angels; 42 for I was hungry, and you gave Me nothing to eat; I was thirsty, and you gave Me nothing to drink; 43 I was a stranger, and you did not invite Me in; naked, and you did not clothe Me; sick, and in prison, and you did not visit Me.’ 44 Then they themselves also will answer, ‘Lord, when did we see You hungry, or thirsty, or a stranger, or naked, or sick, or in prison, and did not [a]take care of You?’ 45 Then He will answer them, ‘Truly I say to you, to the extent that you did not do it to one of the least of these, you did not do it to Me.’ 46 These will go away into eternal punishment, but the righteous into eternal life.” (Mt 25:31-46)

Less obvious, and sometimes more neglected, are the Spiritual Works of Mercy (Admonish the sinner; Instruct the ignorant; Counsel the doubtful; Comfort the sorrowful; Bear wrongs patiently; Forgive all injuries; Pray for the living and the dead). They can be uncomfortable to exercise. Especially the first two, since no body likes to be regarded as a 'sinner' to be admonished, or 'ignorant' and in need of instruction.

But these two are especially needed today. Evangelization in the proper sense of the word is bringing the Good News to those who have not heard it. The 'New Evangelization' is really a re-catechization of those baptized who have not had the seed of faith brought to fruition in their lives.

Progressives adopt this work of 'instructing the ignorant' with vigor. They lobby and march, infiltrate and indoctrinate to get their messages to the unenlightened, and work to punish those who do not comply with their ideology. Those who are poorly catechized and who have given themselves over to the world find themselves to be easy targets for such secular 'instruction.' But who will do the work of the Church, that of instructing those ignorant in the faith, and bearing the brunt of pushback when doing the tough love work of admonishing the sinner? Many times, the need for instruction and admonition far outweighs the capacity of those going out into the mission field. Yet, we are still called, and shouldering the weight of that call of Christ may very well be our cross to bear. A joy and a privilege, yes. But demanding work as well.

When reading accounts of exorcists who do the Church's work of casting out demons in the name of Jesus, what strikes me is just how tiring it can be. The time and energy, the physical demands, and the overwhelming numbers of afflicted in relation to those able to help them--it's real work, and demanding work as well. But for those who are on the receiving end of such deliverance, the minister who has undertaken this work has literally saved their life, ransomed them from death, by the power of Christ.

If we don't speak the truth to those who need to hear it, who will? If we don't instruct those who know only the basics of faith and about the gift of salvation, who will? If we don't take the beating and the pushback from those whom we love when we call them out because of our love for them, who will?

I recently was in the position of feeling the need to instruct my father in the Faith concerning the nature of sin and the Church's teaching on Confession because of some erroneous beliefs. It's one thing when you are instructing strangers, but sometimes with our own family it can be very awkward. It was very uncomfortable for me, and I was very reluctant to do so. I literally had to pray hard about it and force myself to obey the urging of my conscience and write him. Because my house was generally in order, I was able to come at it from a place of love and concern, and not judgement or condemnation. But it still took an investment of time and effort and an uncertainty in how he would respond. Thankfully, he was open and grateful for the long email, and it was the kick he needed to get his own spiritual house in order that might not have happened otherwise.

You are the hands and feet of Christ, and hands and feet are made to work and march. Performing the Works of Mercy is our duty as Christians, even when it's a grind and we'd rather not by staying silent or by staying home. We work by grace, propelled by the Holy Spirit, and sustained by prayer. But it's called 'work' for a reason--it takes effort and sacrifice, and opens us up to pushback and disappointment as well. But like Paul, we should consider it a woe to us if we do not preach the gospel, since we are compelled by God to do it (1 Cor 9:16). We need to love our brothers and sisters, our families, and even those we have never met, enough to put ourselves out there an do the work Christ calls us to--the works of mercy.

A Jailbreak For The Prison Of The Self

The Picture of Dorian Gray, by Oscar Wilde

We hate in other people what we hate in ourselves. And I will confess: selfishness and self-centeredness is a pet-peeve of mine because I am one of the most self-centered people I know.

I use myself as a test-subject constantly, especially when it comes to writing. There are a couple reasons for this--one, I have plenty of material to work with. Two, I don't have to ask permission to use it. Three, I'm hyper-self aware, which is the other side of the double-edged sword that is self-centeredness, so I'm relatively confident in what I am writing about. Maybe it is the artist-temperament. Whatever it is, it comes with downsides and unique requirements for mortification.

Saint Louis Marie de Montfort spoke of mortification as "the deliberate restraint that one places on natural impulses in order to make them increasingly subject to sanctification through obedience to reason illumined by faith." With Lent arriving in less than two weeks (doesn't it always seem to come at just the right time?), we are afforded a great opportunity to practice what St. Louis de Montfort saw as an absolute necessity for acquiring true wisdom. "Beware of thinking that bodily mortification is not necessary to acquire Wisdom, for Wisdom is never found in those who live a life of ease and who gratify their senses" (RW 172)

We often deceive ourselves that we are being selfless when we set the conditions for how we will serve. "I'll wash the dishes," I say (because I don't mind washing dishes), when I really should be saying, "I'll change the diapers." I'll follow you...but let me say good bye to my family first, bury my father first.

And yet, what does Paul call himself but a slave of Christ. Slaves don't choose how they serve their master, because they are not their own, but owned, bought at a price. There is no self to speak of anymore, there is no subjectivism, only the call to obedience and duty. A disciple who chooses how he follows Christ of his own accord and on what terms is not a disciple, but a fan-boy. You have been bought at a price, and that price is your very life itself.

I had a professor in grad school who introduced himself as a "filthy Thomist." I'm not sure Aquinas was fully appreciated in the Theology dept at this particular school, so I can only assume the self-deprecating comment held a lonely air of ostracization. He was a great professor, but I had been taken with the writings of Kierkegaard and Christian existentialism prior to starting my program and as a post-modern subjectivist fan boy I couldn't appreciate Thomism for what it was. The Summa seemed tight, stiff, musty, overly-rational, and just beyond what I could comprehend.

But my experience of faith--that was a summa in itself. Like Descartes, I thought and I was. Or, as faith would have it, I believed and it was! I was the protagonist in this divine play, the principal actor. Without my assent, faith simply would not exist. I could not worship God for His own sake, but only in relation to myself and my experience. This has been difficult to extricate myself from, this extreme subjectivism. My self-centeredness is wiley--every time I try to pin it down to run an iron spike through it, it squirms out of my grasp, buyoed by this or that appetite that has for its whole life been satiated, or by emitting a piercing cry at the threat of it's demise. For if you lose your self, what do you have left? It's a terrifying prospect, and is not easily crucified.

Kierkegaard's radical Protestant subjectivism came with the price tag of anxiety and dread. The radical freedom and responsibility of our choices in 'leaping to faith' was the underlayment in his philosophy and it weighed on him in his life as well. Experience was everything. I clung to that in my conversion when I didn't know where to 'put' it, what vessel to use to guard it.

Although I do not attend the Latin Mass, it's attraction is starting to make sense to me. In essence, worship is not about you; it is about God. The external orientation matters; the prayers matter; the rubrics matter; beauty, in the objective sense, matters. In the rubble of post-modernism and anti-foundationalism, the liturgy stands as phoenix rising--though of course, that is not really an accurate description, for it has always been and through careful safeguarding and handing on has been preserved. I see the value now (and hope to see a renewal) in Thomistic philosophy as an antidote to a self-centered and subjective culture that has forgotten how to reason, how to worship, how to see beauty, and how to recognize objective truth.

The thing about the self is it gets wearisome. It gets wearisome to constantly serve it as a master, feed it as an appetite, pontificate about it as a subject, and groom it as a pet. Experience is powerful, but it is not a sovereign king. It rots on the vine if its not picked and pressed in service to a greater reality than the self and its finite tunnel vision of existence.

But there is an antidote, an Rx from the Church herself: prayer, almsgiving, and fasting. Sound familiar? These three pillars of Lent help us get out of ourselves, lift our eyes to Heaven and implore Heaven for others, practice mortification, and exercise charity. It always seems to come at just the right time when my self-absorption and obsession with experience has reached boiling point. It is an objective cure for a post-modern subjective disease.