The first time I remember praying the rosary of my own volition was in fourth grade during the History Bee. It was my first academic competition, but far from my last, and I made it to the final round (it remains one of my proudest moments). In the second and third rounds of questions, I pulled out my pink rosary, blessed by Pope Benedict XVI when he came to Washington, D.C., in 2008. I held it inconspicuously under the table and prayed while the other students were answering the questions posed to them. I am sure my technique left much to be desired, and I doubt I said the Apostles’ Creed correctly, if at all. Can I attribute my success in making it to the final round of competition to my prayers to Jesus through Mary? One could certainly make the argument.
Five years later, I did the same thing at the Maryland Geography Bee and was one wrong answer away from being a finalist. (The capital of Eritrea is Asmara, by the way). Again, I was pleased with the results and thought: Thank you, Mary!
At the time, my focus was more on appealing to the Queen of Victory than on the mysteries that accompany each decade. But as I’ve prayed the rosary in more contemplative (and less competitive) settings through the years, I’ve been struck by how much the luminous mysteries resonate with me.
The luminous mysteries show Jesus’ light in the world. To me, they seem a little more approachable, more familiar, possibly even more human than the other mysteries. Jesus is fully human and fully divine, and the mysteries we contemplate seem to give full recognition to each, through stories of Jesus living out his public ministry.
The luminous mysteries are: the Baptism of the Lord, the Wedding at Cana, the Proclamation of the Kingdom, the Transfiguration and the Institution of the Eucharist. They were added to the original three sets of mysteries, which date to the early 1400s, by Pope John Paul II in 2002. Why were they added to the canon of mysteries? (We already had three sets, which added up to 150 Hail Marys, equaling the number of psalms.) Because, as St. John Paul II, said, these stories give us a fuller picture of Jesus’ life and fill a gap—“the mysteries of Christ’s public ministry between his Baptism and his Passion” (“Rosarium Virginis Mariae,”No, 19)—that the other mysteries don’t cover.
The rosary is a simple prayer but not an easy one. I have tried for years to pray a rosary every day for Lent. Maybe I will succeed next year, or in 20 years. But each time I try it, the luminous mysteries make some of the contemplative aspects of the prayer more approachable for me, because so many of the stories are so closely related to the sacraments.
For example, the fifth mystery describes the institution of the Eucharist and holy orders. In a recent meditation on this mystery, I reflected on how reciprocal these two sacraments are: One cannot exist without the other, and neither would have a purpose without the other. The Eucharist is the source and summit of Christian life, and yet until 2002, there was not a specific mystery that led us to meditate on it.
Jesus came to earth and experienced 24-hour days, just as we do, and in those same hours we must fill, he performed his public ministry. In these very human stories, we see how Jesus spreads his light to the world—hence the name “luminous,” a word that comes from the Latin lumen, meaning light.
I also find the luminous mysteries interesting because their connection to Mary is not always immediately clear. In praying the rosary, I naturally think about Mary and the connections between the mysteries and moments in her life—like the Visitation, the Annunciation, or even the Passion and Crucifixion. Mary was present at each of these events, even if she did not play a central role.
The mysteries surrounding Jesus’ public ministry do not have Mary at the center, and sometimes she is not present at all. How can I be praying “Hail Mary” over and over and at the same time contemplate the Transfiguration, whose only actors are Jesus, Moses, Elijah, Peter, James and John?
For the luminous mysteries, I often am inspired by Ignatian contemplation: I can imagine Mary on the outskirts of some of these scenes, or think of ways she might have been involved before or after. We know that Jesus never abandoned his mother and that she was present for him, too. Thus I can picture Mary just outside the scene, maybe standing in the crowd, as Jesus proclaims his kingdom, imagine her hearing from the apostles about the Last Supper. Surely she would have heard about the Transfiguration, too.
This first luminous mystery invites us to contemplate the baptism of the Lord at the Jordan, which prefigures the sacrament of baptism. Mary would have known that the son of her kinswoman, John, who lives in the desert and eats locusts and honey, baptized people to prepare the way of the Lord. When her son came to be baptized, I can picture her standing in the crowd of onlookers. Mary gave birth to Jesus, but Jesus reminds us that we must be reborn by water and the Spirit.
At the wedding at Cana, Mary’s role is central. She brings about her son’s first miracle even though he told her “my time is not yet come.” This mystery exemplifies the idea of “to Jesus through Mary,” which is at the heart of the rosary, no matter which mysteries we are contemplating. Mary’s intercession with her son is so clearly listened to and acted upon. This is why we can pray to her in the first place! For whatever we might need, asking for Mary’s intercession can never steer us wrong.
We can see Mary’s influence, too, as Jesus proclaims the kingdom of God, knowing the special role mothers play in shaping their children. I know so many mothers today who pray for the conversion of the world, and for their own children. And through the Transfiguration, we are reminded of how Christ’s light is spread to the world through exactly this transformation.
I never prayed the rosary before the luminous mysteries were promulgated (I was 2 at the time), so to me they are a natural part of the prayer. St. John Paul II reminded us that they are the mysteries of light because each one illuminates another facet of Jesus’ life: “Each of these mysteries is a revelation of the Kingdom now present in the very person of Jesus.” (“Rosarium Virginis Mariae,” No. 21).
The luminous mysteries help us meditate on the light of Jesus in the world and remind us to see that light in one another and in the daily moments of our lives here on earth, including (and perhaps especially) when we need divine and Marian assistance—whether in the History Bee or elsewhere.
