Why the Luminous Mysteries of the Rosary?

The famous (or infamous) Mysteries of Light, the Luminous Mysteries of the Rosary. Love them? Hate them? Never heard of them? They’re at the center of many heated arguments, both on the web and other places. In this brief post we’ll look at the arguments I’ve personally heard most often for not praying them, and then the argument I find most convincing for praying them. Near the end of this post, the video of an episode of EWTN Live with Fr. Mitch Pacwa, SJ, with guest Fr. Donald Calloway, MIC, discussing his book, 10 Wonders of the Rosary. At the very end of the post are some links.

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To end the culture of death, pray the Rosary and Chaplet

I’ve been praying the Rosary using the Five Special Intentions given by Pope St. John Paul II, for use with the Divine Mercy chaplet, for several months. Those intentions are aimed at ending abortion and the whole culture of death. I began adding them to the Rosary threads on Twitter back when the pro-abortion crowd ramped up their demonic efforts to ram barbaric legislation through in a push that has been more aggressive than any we’ve ever seen in this country. (Links at the end of this post.)

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A longish ramble about my longish rambling, the Church, the Rosary, and other things

It’s a bit of a long ramble tonight. Sorry, I didn’t have time to make it shorter. (Hiya, Pascal!) ;)

I don’t know how many of my readers are Catholic and how many aren’t. I assume most are but I wonder. I don’t even know how many actual readers I have. Probably a fraction of those who “follow” me ever get around to reading anything I’ve written. Well, I’m going to do what I’ve been doing, and write as if I’m addressing fellow Catholics or someone who is at least interested in Catholicism. And since this is supposed to be a post about the Blessed Virgin Mary (in the Something About Mary Every Day In May series), tonight I will write about one of my favorite Marian topics: the Rosary. Eventually. ;) Here goes.

When I was a young woman, fresh out of high school and no longer expected to accompany (I used to like that word) my family to church on Sundays, I began to search. I didn’t know what I was searching for, but I knew there had to be something. There had to be some way to know more. More about the reality, truth, the universe, more about how Christianity was supposed to work. No one could ever answer when I asked these things at home or at Sunday School or anywhere else. But I knew that someone somewhere had answers, to my questions, to my deepest longings, and I was determined to find that someone and get my answers, once and for all.

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Counting prayers

A post in the Something About Mary Every Day In May series.

In the good old days when I could still walk easily and without assistance, like a normal healthy person, and wasn’t tethered to an oxygen machine, and both of my beloved dawgs were still with me—man, I miss those days—back in those days of youth and health I would take our small pack to the park every day, and while the dawgs sniffed every blade of grass and chased each other and all the squirrels, I would pray the Rosary. I usually took them to the back of the park where we could be alone and they could enjoy some measure of freedom.

One day as I walked along praying the Rosary, I was watching the birds or squirrels or something in the trees overhead. A man passed us going in the other direction and of course, he spied my Rosary beads. And he couldn’t resist saying something about them. 

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How I started praying the Rosary before I became Catholic

Image: Our Lady of Guadalupe, patroness of all of the Americas and of the unborn. From Wikimedia. Public domain.

Did I ever tell you how I started praying the Rosary before I became Catholic?

If you haven’t read my conversion story or followed me on Twitter for a while, you may not know that I was a new ager and Buddhist back in 1994 when I began volunteering in a Catholic bookstore. I volunteered at first just to help put the place in order. I would grab a fast food dinner and head to the bookstore after my day job, and the store staff would lock me in and leave me to it for a few hours at a time. After a few days I even got a key. My self-appointed task was to clean every shelf in the place, figure out what things were (a daunting task for a gal raised Methodist and clueless about Catholicism), and put it all back together again in a way that made sense. The all-volunteer staff at the time had been shelving things by the “I can reach this shelf from where I’m standing, so that’s where this goes” method. Oy. 

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