The Immaculate Conception

Today is the Feast of the Immaculate Conception. It is a sacred day for me because it celebrates a mystery that brought me life in a very difficult time.

In the Catholic Tradition, The Feast of the Immaculate Conception celebrates the fact that Mary was conceived without original sin. I once heard a Jesuit preach that the mystery at the heart of this feast is not just about Mary; it is also about each one of us. He said that the Immaculate Conception celebrates the fact that inside of each our hearts, there is something that was conceived without sin. The mystery is about believing in that part of us.

In my bedroom, a painting of The Immaculate Heart of Mary by C. Bosseron Chambers hangs above my prayer candles. The artist has merged the imagery of Mary Immaculate with devotion to the Sacred Heart. Mary stands with her cloak held open. The pure white fire of her sacred heart looks like it’s burning through her dress. Her face is serene and calm.

I found this painting in a book about Mary that turned up the day I told my family that I had decided to separate from my husband. Sharing the fact that my marriage was over was difficult, as my family is one where people do not get divorced. I felt like a failure.

That night, after a long day of explaining myself and sitting with my family’s grief, anger, misunderstanding and pain, I found the picture of Mary. I was struggling to regain some sense of who I was, so I went to a closet in my parents’ home and rummaged through items from my childhood that I had stored there. On top of my journals was the book about Mary. I opened to the painting of The Immaculate Heart of Mary.

In the painting, Mary is surrounded by darkness. Only her dress and veil are white. But in the middle of her chest, her heart burns.

That night, I placed the picture of Mary next to my bed. I needed to be held and Mary’s presence comforted me. In the darkness, I could still see the fire of her heart.

During the next few weeks, I did the hard work of going public about my separation and hearing people’s pain and grief about that news. It was a difficult time as I continually came up against judgments and accusations that echoed my own. My sense of my own goodness was thoroughly shaken. I struggled to believe in God because even my image of God felt tainted by my failings.

One day in the midst of this struggle, I heard in my head the words to the Beatles song, Let It Be: “In my hour of darkness, she is standing right in front of me, speaking words of wisdom, ‘Let it Be.’” The “she” I could see in front of me that day was the Mary of Chambers’ painting.

Something shifted then. Comforted by Mary and her immaculate heart, I began to sense the purity that remains beyond my fears, my insecurities, and my failings. On that day, I chose to believe in that purity. It was a choice to believe in the Immaculate Conception.

Choosing to trust what remains immaculate in my heart gives me courage to face my shadows. When I can still see my own goodness, I am able to listen to how I have done wrong with an open heart and mind. When I believe that the seed of God’s love lives unsullied deep within me in spite of my worst mistakes, I can confront my deepest fears and pain. The Mary of Chambers’ painting reminds me to believe in the purity in my heart.

On the night that I told my mother what I knew would break her heart, she listened quietly. She gave me some advice and then told me to pray about my situation. As she got out of the car we were sitting in, I started to cry.

A moment later, my mother reopened the door. “No matter what, I want you to remember that you are precious.”

Hail Mary, full of grace.