JMJ
September 2026
“But Mary treasured all these things, pondering them in her heart.” (Luke 2:19)
Dear Alumni of Chaminade and Kellenberg Memorial,
In the summer months – and in the spring and autumn as well – when the weather permits, I like to take my laptop into the courtyard and do my writing, my reading, and even my office work under the awning there. Why stay cooped up inside? Why not enjoy the beautiful outdoors: the azure sky; the flowering crepe myrtles bursting with color; the mourning doves cooing and racing one another right in front of my eyes; the gurgling waters of the little, rock-lined stream that tumbles into the coy pond? And, of course, standing tall over the entire scene is the marble statue of the Blessed Virgin Mary holding the Infant Jesus. With Mary as the focal point of our courtyard, it seems only natural that my thoughts turn to her as the subject of this reflection.
Several other “coincidences” have prompted me to reflect on Our Lady. She is, of course, the patroness of the Marianists. In September, we celebrate two major Marian feasts: The Nativity of the Blessed Virgin Mary on September 8 and Our Lady of Sorrows on September 15. (Full disclosure: I am writing this reflection for the September issue of Magnificat on July 25, in the courtyard, of course.) Finally, as some of you may know, our main lobby at Chaminade is being renovated this summer, and, when it is finished, it will feature a seven-foot statue of the Blessed Virgin Mary right in the center, where one of three sets of doors to the gymnasium used to be. Starting in September, Mary will be the first thing that students and visitors see when they climb Chaminade’s iconic front steps and enter the building.
So many themes suggest themselves for any reflection on Mary. I would like to focus on one: “Mary treasured all these things, pondering them in her heart” (Luke 2:19). The Evangelist makes this observation right after the shepherds visit the Holy Family and recount “the good news of great joy” (Luke 2:10) proclaimed to them by the angel of the Lord.
Throughout her life – her remarkably young life – Mary had a great deal to ponder. Imagine her confusion at the Annunciation, when the angel Gabriel appeared to her and said, “Hail, favored one. The Lord is with you” (Luke 1:28). Quite understandably, “she was greatly troubled at what was said and pondered what sort of greeting this might be” (Luke 1:29).
When Mary and Joseph presented Jesus in the Temple shortly after His birth, the priest Simeon prophesied, “And you yourself a sword will pierce” (Luke 2: 35). Surely the sword of Simeon’s prophecy must have pierced Mary’s heart when she and Joseph found the twelve-year-old Jesus in the Temple. “Did you not know that I must be in my Father’s house?” (Luke 2:49) “ . . . and His mother kept all these things in her heart” (Luke 2:51).
That same sword pierced Mary’s heart to its very core as she stood at the foot of the Cross with Mary, the wife of Clopas; Mary of Magdala; and the Beloved Disciple, John.
Through it all, Mary pondered.
Just what does it mean, to ponder? To ponder, I believe, means that one contemplates the mystery of life, its sorrows as well as its joys, its disheartening inconsistencies, and its sometimes scandalous injustices. Mind you, I am not suggesting that pondering is synonymous with resignation or with despair. In many cases, pondering calls us to decisive, and even heroic, action. But pondering does require thought and reflection, thinking – and praying – before acting, in a world sorely lacking in this fundamental stance towards life.
In his most recent book, Insane for the Light, one of my favorite spiritual writers, Fr. Ronald Rolheiser, OMI, has much to say about pondering. He offers that, in the Gospels, to ponder
. . . means to hold, carry, and transform tension so as not to give back in kind, knowing that whatever energies we do not transform, we transmit.
An image for pondering is that of a water purifier. A water purifier does not simply let things flow through it. It takes in contaminated water – water filled with toxins, dirt, impurities, and poisons – holds these contaminants inside itself, and gives out pure water.
How do we help others carry tension? How do we take tension out of a community? By absorbing the tension the same way a water purifier removes toxins from water. By taking in conflict, misunderstandings, bitterness, polarization, immaturity, and sin; holding these poisons and toxins inside ourselves; and giving back only empathy, graciousness, maturity, and virtue. How badly this is needed!
We are part of countries, communities, churches, families, and friendships that are full of tension. Misunderstanding, bitterness, accusation, and anger are everywhere. Our task is to say, “The gossip stops with me; the bitterness stops with me; the anger stops with me; the accusations stop with me. I will absorb those energies instead of
retransmitting them. I will be a scapegoat who helps take away the tension inside a community by absorbing it.”
More than likely, most of us do not like the prospect of becoming a scapegoat. And, to be sure, polemics and polarization are more the order of the day than pondering. This is precisely why pondering is so necessary. As we look at the world around us; as our hearts break at the wars and divisions that tear at the human family; as we recall the disappointments in our own personal lives; the betrayals, large and small, of family, friends, and those once considered friends; the grudges we hold; and our own shortcomings and failures as we try to lead a life of virtue, we would do well to ponder – and to remember not only the grievances we harbor, but the graces we have received. This is what it means to ponder.
Blessed William Joseph Chaminade firmly believed that pondering is central to our lives as Marianists. The Rule of Life for the Society of Mary states that “we aim to be continually attentive to the Word of God . . . and be eager to ponder and share it. . . . We are convinced that the essential is the interior. In order to be faithful to our calling as Marianists, and to grow in the life of faith, we devote an hour of each day to personal meditation” (Rule of Life, Articles 54 & 55).
If you will permit me, I’d like to give you one more image of pondering. Some fifty-three years ago, in May of my junior year at Chaminade, I fumbled to find the right words to tell my mom, Maria (Italian for Mary), that I wanted to become a Marianist. Sensing my nervousness, my mom cut in, “I know, Stephen, you want to be a Brother.” Slackjawed, I stammered, “How . . . how did you know?” “Well, it’s obvious,” she replied. “You’re always happiest when you’re at Chaminade.”
My poor dad, on the other hand, was blindsided by my announcement. And when I entered the Community in 1974 and again at my First Profession of Vows in 1976 and my Perpetual Profession in 1979, he cried like a baby. My mom, on the other hand, was the picture of equanimity on all three occasions.
Many years later, however, after my dad had passed away, my mom confessed to me how hard it was on her that I had joined the Marianists at the “tender” age of seventeen. It was she who broke down in tears when my parents returned home after they had dropped me off at my new home. It was she who struggled the most when I did not spend Thanksgiving, Christmas, and Easter with my family but instead visited a day or two later. But she never let on, at least not until many, many years afterwards, when she could recount her former emotions and laugh about them. My mom knew the desires of my heart, she knew the challenges of a first-born son following such a countercultural path, and she pondered all these things in her heart. For this, Mom, and for so many other things that you did for me, I am deeply grateful.
“But Mary treasured all these things, pondering them in her heart.”
On behalf of all my Marianist Brothers,
Bro. Steve