The Grace of the Assumption

As far as dogmas go, the Assumption is unfortunately named.  The belief itself, though – that Mary, conceived without sin, and sinless throughout her life, was assumed body and soul into Heaven – illustrates a profound truth: sin weighs you down.

The Assumption of Mary

The dogma was proclaimed in 1950 by Pope Pius XII, just a decade ahead of the “sexual revolution” of the 1960s which launched the idea that sin, especially sexual sin, was a notion from which we had to be liberated.  That idea, in turn, has imprisoned our culture tighter and tighter with its chains.  Our Lord, with our Lady as His model, was using this dogma to remind us of what a burden sin really is.  The Assumption illustrates the rule, as true in spiritual matters as elsewhere, that perfection is achieved, not when there’s nothing more to add, but when there’s nothing more to take away.

Sin

If we stop to think about it, we would realize that our sins really do nothing but make us unhappy.  Look at any sin, even if the person committing it doesn’t believe it is such; there is a weight to it.  It begins to control a person, hence our Lord’s words about being a slave to sin.  Mortal sins do this with a vengeance and we could tell many a horror story with these.  Yet just as those struggling with their weight will tell you that it isn’t so much the big “blowouts” that do the damage, it’s the snacking, so in the moral life it’s often the tawdry, venial sins that add inches to our soul’s waistline.

For example, such a “harmless” thing as gossip. When we gossip, we know no rest, and a chronic gossiper in almost the personification of restlessness. Whenever the gossiper comes across some “news” or “tidbit” there is weight on his mind until he can find someone to unload it on.  But it doesn’t stop there, because the gossiper must remember whom he told the gossip to, and exactly what he said lest he be found out.  And what does the gossiper gain?  Perhaps a certain “thrill” of scoring off someone he doesn’t like or of being “in the know” on a certain topic.  But it is a cheap pleasure, lie playing a prank on a child.  If the gossiper thought about all the time and mental energy he has wasted, as well as all the shame and arguments he has suffered from the numerous times he has been wrong, he’d bite his tongue and find himself moving about more easily.

Social media is a “fast food” in this regard.  Empty calories we use to fill our day.  Stop at the end of a day – or even in the middle of a day – and calculate how much time you have spent reading someone else’s rant or discovering the “real” cause for this celebrity’s divorce or that athlete’s dissatisfaction with his recent multi-million-dollar contract.  As for “news” – much of which is gossip on steroids – how much of that really affects your life?  What percentage of that can you really do anything about? Then consider how you often complain about not having enough time to get things done or how sour your mood has been because of it.  It’s like eating six chocolate-covered doughnuts: there’s a slight sugar-rush and then … BLAH.

Then there’s that peevishness of temper that is “just the way we are.” The roll of the eyes, the whining voice, the sharpness of tone when “simply asking if he was finally ready.” We may score a point or two but then spend the rest of the day loaded down with frost.

Self-pity, which is really pride, produces spiritual obesity. We “build castles in Spain when we have to live in France” to use St. Francis de Sales’ phrase.  We compare ourselves with others; we pine over what others have and what we don’t have.  We chew our mental cud over what might have been or should have been. Have you noticed how we often refer to wallowers in self-pity as people with “a lot of baggage”? We get so weighed down we can’t move beyond ourselves.  We would travel a lot faster, and a lot lighter, on our way to Heaven if we just chucked those suitcases of “if only” out the window.

Human respect – worrying what others think of us – is a common “dunlop” (as in “my belly’s dunlop over my belt”).  I remember gorging on this to a priest until he finally said, “You know, you’d be a lot happier if you realized how little people think of you.” If we got up every day and said ten times “I’m not special” we’d fly about with wings on our feet.  As G. K. Chesterton said, “Satan fell by force of gravity.”

A Liberating Dogma

The dogma of the Assumption is a liberating dogma if ever there was one.  How happy we would be – how free, how light – if we confronted our sins. We take sin upon ourselves and hold onto it.  We won’t let it go and so can’t grasp our Lord’s hand when He holds it out to us in mercy.  The last judgment will see many of us holding three bags of groceries and trying to open the car door.  Our Lady had none of that; nothing held her back because she wasn’t holding on to anything. She waltzed into Heaven lights as a feather, arm in arm with the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.  And how agile the saints were; even the heavy ones like Thomas Aquinas and Francis Borgia. Yes, they had cares and sufferings, often more than you and I have; but they struggled most where it mattered most – with sin.  Because they took their souls seriously, they took this world lightly.

Our Lady wants us to do that, too.  The dogma of the Assumption is, in great respect, a call to confession. The sacrament of confession has both inspired me and terrified me.  Often at the same time. Some of the biggest “highs” and deepest “lows” of my spiritual life have come in confession.  There have been times when I wanted so desperately to go and was so glad that I could.  There have been other times when I hated thinking of it and wanted to do anything but say what I’ve done.  But I’ve never regretted it.

A Good Confession

It’s been said that your bathroom scale is your best friend – it won’t lie to you and it won’t tell others what you’ve done.  A good confession is like that.  You may not like what it registers, but if you’re thorough, honest, and sincere, it will take a load off your soul.  Then go on a “spiritual diet” from one or two specific sins.  Just as, if you were trying to lose weight, you would say “no desserts for the next week,” tell yourself “no harsh words – or no resentment, no complaining – for the next week.”  Ask our Lady to help you. Her grace will help make you graceful.  Heaven is a beautiful dance, and we need to be light on our feet.