Part of the Mary Moment Monday series

From pie slice to round globe, I often check for the moon when I’m outside at night.

In the fall, it’s the harvest moon.

Just recently, it was what my girls called the “pink” moon. (I thought it looked more orange, myself. It had something to do with the moon being the closest to earth that it’s been in 20 years.)

In the middle of summer, we’ll look up and find ourselves astounded: stars and MOON.

It’s a human thing, this gazing upwards and outwards. I relate it very much with my girlhood, with the big dreams and ideas I used to nurture.

I see, especially in my six-year-old of late, this same sort of magic, this same sort of possibility. When she’s astride her pony, she exudes confidence, and when she’s contemplating the cosmos, she seems to hold the world in her hands.

It is, I see now, hope.

So when I read Jen’s reflection on Mary the other day, I found myself nodding…and thinking.

The arguments some of my friends make against the veneration of Mary remind me of the arguments some of our astronomer friends made against appreciation of the moon. Like the moon with the sun, Mary is entirely dependent on the Lord for her beauty. She does not create her own light; she merely reflects the light of the Son. And, like the moon, what a beautiful, gleaming reflection it is! God has positioned her perfectly to bathe us in the Son’s radiance when we can’t seem to find him, to point to him eternally, to act as our guide in darkness.

Though I love the moon and I love Mary, and though the explanation of how they are similar makes sense, it wasn’t until I thought about it after reading Jen’s piece that I felt a click.

Now, when I see the moon rising in the night sky, I’ll be reminded of Mary.

I’ll also be reminded of the hope that we’re called to have as Christians, and of how Mary will lead us to the ultimate Hope, if only we will let her.

(Do take a few minutes and read Jen’s full post. It’s truly lovely.)

image credit