Dr. Marcellino D’Ambrosio has a helpful, brief introduction to the feast
The Pope’s words at the Angelus:
On today’s feast of the Assumption, we contemplate the mystery of the passing of Mary from this world to Paradise: we may say we celebrate her “Easter”. Just as Christ rose from the dead with his glorified body and ascended into heaven, the Blessed Virgin, fully associated with him, was taken up into heavenly glory in her whole person. Even in this, the Mother followed her Son more closely and went before all of us. By the side of Jesus, the new Adam, who is “the first fruits” of the resurrected (cfr 1 Cor 15:20-23), the Madonna, the new Eve, appears as the “first fruits and image of the Church” (preface), “a sign of sure hope” for all Christians on earthly pilgrimage (cfr Lumen gentium, 68).
The feast of the Assumption, so dear to popular tradition, is for us believers a useful occasion to meditate about the true sense and value of human existence from the perspective of eternity. Dear brothers and sisters, heaven is our final home. From there Mary encourages us with her example to welcome the will of God and not to allow ourselves to be seduced by false calls of all that is ephemeral and transient, not to give in to temptations of egoism and evil which snuff out the joy of life in the heart.
In a comment thread below, a recent convert expressed some puzzlement and a little discomfort over the role of Mary in Catholic devotion. Someone suggested thinking in the way Pope John Paul II spoke of: with Mary, we contemplate the face of Christ. For more on this, I’d highly recommend reading his apostolic letter:
. The contemplation of Christ has an incomparable model in Mary. In a unique way the face of the Son belongs to Mary. It was in her womb that Christ was formed, receiving from her a human resemblance which points to an even greater spiritual closeness. No one has ever devoted himself to the contemplation of the face of Christ as faithfully as Mary. The eyes of her heart already turned to him at the Annunciation, when she conceived him by the power of the Holy Spirit. In the months that followed she began to sense his presence and to picture his features. When at last she gave birth to him in Bethlehem, her eyes were able to gaze tenderly on the face of her Son, as she “wrapped him in swaddling cloths, and laid him in a manger” (Lk2:7).
Thereafter Mary’s gaze, ever filled with adoration and wonder, would never leave him. At times it would be a questioning look, as in the episode of the finding in the Temple: “Son, why have you treated us so?” (Lk 2:48); it would always be a penetrating gaze, one capable of deeply understanding Jesus, even to the point of perceiving his hidden feelings and anticipating his decisions, as at Cana (cf. Jn 2:5). At other times it would be a look of sorrow, especially beneath the Cross, where her vision would still be that of a mother giving birth, for Mary not only shared the passion and death of her Son, she also received the new son given to her in the beloved disciple (cf. Jn 19:26-27). On the morning of Easter hers would be a gaze radiant with the joy of the Resurrection, and finally, on the day of Pentecost, a gaze afire with the outpouring of the Spirit (cf. Acts 1:14).
I do believe that even the most Mary-phobic Catholic would find this helpful and enriching.
I also have a casual observation that I’m wondering if you all, most knowledgeable commentors, would like to address. It’s my most casual and undoubtedly superficial observation that the heavy lifters in regard to Marian devotion in the history of Catholic spirituality have been men. When I think about the great female spiritual teachers, I just don’t see much emphasis on Mary. Does anyone else concur? Any speculation as to why?