The Joyful Mysteries According to Zoey
Originally posted at The Way of the Rose Facebook group April 5, 2020.
Novena Day 46
The Joyful Mysteries
In case you didn’t notice, there was a snafu with timing of the guides during this novena. A misreading of the schedule (by several of us, myself included) meant that Perdita had to do some quick scrambling. She filled in on short notice and asked if I would take her slot at the end of this novena and “bring us home.”
Of course I agreed, but I confess to feeling a bit of fear. This is my first stint as a novena guide, and just breathing into that phrase “bring us home” evokes so much for me. Home is where the heart is, where our roots reside—in short, home is everything, isn’t it?
I know Perdita didn’t imply some heavy responsibility with her phrasing, but it struck me as a marvelous thing to be tasked with “bringing us back to our hearts” in this time that is awakening ancestral memories of plagues past, times overrun by fear.
Am I up to the task? I have no idea, but I trust that somehow the timing is divinely appointed.
Recently, Lara Villarreal Hutner made a request. Lara knew next to nothing about me when she says Our Lady told her to make me a rosary. Fortunately for me, she takes such direction seriously and made me the most amazing rosary as a gift. I can’t tell you how much I love it; there is no question that it was made specifically for me. As an ex-Catholic, I think perhaps Our Lady knew it was going to take an extra nudge to get me praying the rosary regularly. So when Lara asked me to write down my understanding of the mysteries, thinking it would be helpful to her and others, I had to honor that request.
So here goes.
When I first started considering the rosary again, about a year and a half ago, the mysteries weren’t even on my radar. When I actually started praying the rosary less than a year ago, I found them annoying and beside the point. I even went to the in-person WOTR meetings in Woodstock a few times with no knowledge of what they were, how they were divided up, which ones we were saying, or why we were even bothering with them.
All this is to say if the mysteries aren’t your thing, I get it. Been there, done that.
I finally got serious about learning the mysteries after participating in the Tuesday phone meeting and realizing I would have to learn them if I were ever going to be able to lead the rosary. I kept a pen by the phone and jotted down whichever ones came up on my meeting script. It was probably a couple of months before I got them all and several more before I had them memorized, so I obviously wasn’t in a hurry. I still didn’t really understand why we were invited to meditate on them, but at least I was open and willing to listen.
I don’t know about you, but I often find that attitude to be my sweet spot for learning, and the mysteries were no exception. Rather than a useless appendage to reciting the rosary, I have come to believe they are the engine of the rosary, the guide for our meditation, and the means by which Our Lady imparts her wisdom.
The mysteries really began to break open for me when I’d missed a few days and reverted to an old strategy of mine: concentrating several days “work” into one. I took a long walk by the creek in my beautiful wooded neighborhood and said a decade for each of the 15 mysteries, three times around the rosary from start to finish.
If you’ve never done this, I highly recommend it. I’ve done it numerous times since, and I almost always get something special out of it.
You’ve probably heard of “the hero’s journey” before. It’s the general framework of many, many—mostly male—stories throughout history. The hero heeds the call to adventure, gets supernatural help, faces trials and tribulations (often competes for the hand of some fair maiden) and returns home changed forever. The majority of such stories have a very clear beginning, middle, and end.
The rosary, on the other hand, is a feminine story, a circle. Specifically, it’s a mother’s story. The joyful mysteries give way to the sorrowful mysteries, which in turn give way to the glorious mysteries, and the next day we start again. There is a rhythm to it, an ebb and flow. There are many ways to think about the mysteries, but I have come to think of them as a sort of “heroine’s journey”: the Divine Feminine template for the ultimate life of spiritual adventure.
In that context, meditating on the mysteries means finding my emotional points of connection to the mystery events and feeling how they fit into the structure of the rosary. Don’t get me wrong. I don’t mean I think hard about it or anything. I simply repeat the name of the mystery and follow whatever thoughts come up, rather like free association. Sometimes the brilliant insights I come up with don’t even last till I make it back to my front door, but that’s not what matters. You may not agree if you’re reading this in the hope of receiving some brilliant insight yourself, but let me assure you that the real value lies in your personal connection to the material.
I will be spending my first three days as a rosary guide outlining all fifteen mysteries and the next six delving deeper into specific mysteries.
The Joyful Mysteries According to Zoey
(I have been praying for more joy in my life during this novena because I have noticeably felt its absence, to the point where joy itself has become almost a mystery. That prayer petition means that my understanding of the joyful mysteries is evolving.)
The Annunciation
The rosary starts off with the Annunciation, giving us a sense of this event’s importance to the whole of the rosary—and to our own “heroine’s journey.” Without the Annunciation, the journey doesn’t happen. The angel Gabriel announces to Mary, a young unmarried virgin, that she will be the mother of the Messiah. Awesome as this is, it’s not the emotional crux of the event; that is Mary’s response, the Biblical equivalent of “Bring it on.”
Thus, the rosary—and the joyful mysteries—begin with a heartfelt, “Yes! I will take on this insanely difficult challenge!”
Intuitively, we all know Mary could say, “No, thanks. I’ve thought it over, and I’m really not up for what you’re asking of me.” But she doesn’t. And she doesn’t say yes begrudgingly; she does it joyfully, knowing full well it is not going to be an easy journey as an unmarried woman.
We all have these moments, don’t we—the moments we are called to do something challenging and beautiful, something with the potential to change the world for the better forever? I suspect that I am by no means the only who has said no to some of those calls over the years. But there have definitely been some I’ve said yes to—and as Robert Frost said of taking the less traveled, that has made all the difference.
Even more important than accepting the challenge may be how the challenge is accepted. Harry Potter fans may see this as similar to the difference between Harry facing Voldemort because it is fated and Harry understanding that it is his fate, not because of who Voldemort is, but because of who he, Harry, is—someone who will not let evil win the day if he can possibly help it. He must do something about it, even if that means it will end in his death. And that, my friends, makes all the difference.
The Visitation
The Visitation is my very favorite mystery. The joy of this one I know from the ends of my hair to the tips of my toes. In the Visitation, the newly pregnant Mary visits her older, barren cousin Elizabeth, miraculously pregnant herself. The two women, joyfully defying all the expectations of their society, bond for life and begin weaving the fabric of the network that will change their world forever. You may see Catholic Church officials emphasizing Mary’s “submission” to the will of God. Don’t buy it for a second. There is nothing “submissive” about Mary’s acceptance of her challenge, as any reading of the Magnificat will indicate. In the company of Elizabeth, Mary is channeling some serious divine power.
I’m pretty sure I’ll be writing more on the Visitation later, so for now I’ll just say that I see The Way of the Rose as a beautiful manifestation of the Visitation. We pray together, weave our network, and strengthen each other’s courage, magnifying our power to create.
The Nativity
The Nativity is the birth of Jesus, Mary’s son and her creation. For any woman who has given birth, the wonder of the moment when you realize you have just created life may be the most intense thing you will ever feel. Jesus is born in the night, surrounded by animals, and laid in a manger. His creation takes darkness, concentration, and effort. It may also have been accompanied by a great deal of pain.
For many of us, particularly women, the immediate connection we have to the Nativity is the birth of our own children. But there are many other “births” in our lives, too, aren’t there? So many other sparks of the divine that are “made flesh” through our darkness, concentration, and efforts. And they are all important.
Creation always involves some pain and some loss. After the creation, you will be changed forever. Knowing that means that creation is often a profoundly courageous act. Courage permeates all the joyful mysteries, perhaps more courage than some of us feel we have, which is why we need the Visitation. Fortunately for all of us, courage isn’t the absence of fear; it’s the transcending of fear. As the rest of the story makes clear, the fear is justified; the road ahead is anything but easy! But the joy and love of the Visitation makes the fear easier to transcend.
The Presentation at the Temple
I think of this one as “going public.” Mary and Joseph bring the baby Jesus to the Temple to “present” him, as was the custom with male children. On their way in they encounter Simeon who recognizes Jesus as destined to be the Messiah and then tells Mary “a sword will pierce through your own soul, so that the thoughts of the hearts of many may be revealed.”
There’s so much here worth ruminating on and connecting with. This is when Mary’s creation is recognized as the world-changer that he is. But Mary, too, is recognized, and even in the joy of that recognition (for who does not feel a strong desire to be seen for who we are?), the ultimate grief, that of a mother for her child, is foretold. Even in the midst of her joy, the seeds are sown for the sorrows to come. And, oh, what sorrows they are! An intuitive inkling of the sorrows to come could potentially keep anyone from saying a resounding and joyous “yes!” at the Annunciation, couldn’t it?
(Just before I began seriously considering the rosary again, I went to the Cloisters in Manhattan and was struck by a statue of the Sacred Heart of Mary pierced by a sword that bore a version of Simeon’s prophecy. Pictured is the medal at the center of the rosary that Lara made for me.)
Finding Jesus at the Temple
The emotional components of this one are huge and all over the place. Mary and Joseph have brought Jesus to the Temple in Jerusalem, as they do every year for Passover. When they leave, Mary assumes her son is traveling with the other children. Can you imagine her terror at finding him missing? I imagine the self-recriminations as she and Joseph make their way back to Jerusalem only to find the young boy holding forth (showing off?) in the Temple. I imagine Mary’s wonder and pride as she watches her son, her creation, in action. She should have known, shouldn’t she? Discussion of the spiritual meaning of scripture—that was his particular talent. It was what he was born for. Of course, he was drawn to it, and of course his abilities would be recognized.
This one feels like a turning point in Mary’s journey. It is unquestionably traumatic to lose Jesus, but the overwhelming relief upon finding him both mitigates the trauma and accentuates the foreshadowing of what is to come. Jesus’s destiny is affirmed; there is no going back now. And Mary’s role is clear. She has to support and prepare him for what is to come, as no one but his mother can.
I imagine that most people have felt that combination of joy and horror as they watched their creations take on lives of their own. It feels to me like the placement of this one with the joyful mysteries reminds us that it undoubtedly takes great courage to let go of our creations, but we can trust their ability to make their way in the world. Even though Mary takes Jesus home and we do not hear of him again for many years, I think she has begun to realize that she can and will eventually let him go to fulfill his own destiny.
