If you were a queen, what kind of queen would you be? A “good” queen? A bad one?
Can you even imagine it? Perhaps you’ve come to think of queens as people that only show up in fantasy novels like those written by George R.R. Martin (bad queens?) or J.R.R. Tolkein (Galadriel, who is surely a good queen?), from long ago history (Anne Boleyn?), or fairy tales, or stodgy albeit well-dressed elderly ladies like England’s Queen Elizabeth II. Maybe, if you’re young woman, you don’t even want to be a queen. You want to be a princess.
But what does it all mean?
Let’s bypass the evil queens of fantasy novels and badly written historical television dramas. We can get enough of those in a never-ending onslaught of novels and Netflix. Instead, let’s think of the best of queens, the best of ladies, the loveliest of those who ever sat upon a golden throne, enrobed in majesty, her neck slightly bent beneath the weight of a heavily bejeweled crown. Let’s think of Mary, the Mother of Jesus.
Today is the Memorial of the Queenship of Mary. What a lovely, lovely feastday. Let’s imagine the Blessed Mother, shall we? She has only been in Heaven for a week now, and still doubtlessly absorbing the wonder of the place. But what is this? Angels, coming for her? Again? And where are they taking her? And what are they placing on her shoulders? This ermine-trimmed robe, heavy with golden embroidery. And where are they leading her? To this astonishing court of thousands? Millions? Singing, shouting in triumph! She might not even know what to make of such grandeur. But, at the end of the red carpet (because of course), she can see her Son. Naturally she moves towards Him, because, in the end, there is nothing left to be done but to move toward the Son.
And He is there, smiling. And she kneels before Him, because of course. Every knee shall bend before Him, the King of kings. And he has a crown so wondrous, so spectacular, it beggars the imagination. Twelve stars, fresh from their orbits, endlessly swirling and twinkling (they make diamonds look dull). And He, grinning like only the Son of such a Mother can, places it on her bent head. And she weeps with joy. And He wipes every tear from her streaming eyes. Because of course. And He gives her His hand, and helps her sit on her throne, soft and cushiony, and covered with jewels and probably held slightly aloft by angels. Nothing is too good for Mary. Nothing.
And she sits on her lovely throne, with her beautiful robe, and her marvelous crown, and Jesus has the angels sing out her many titles:
Holy Mother of God,
Seat of Wisdom,
Cause of our joy,
Mediatrix of all graces,
Refuge of sinners,
Queen of Heaven!
And she is smiling, because of course.
You can go through a list of many of her titles and accolades when you recite the Litany of Loreto. But the next time you do, think of what the titles mean. What does it mean that she is a queen? Like a good queen, she doesn’t just sit up there and look amazing. She is busy. God’s Kingdom is never dull, and she is so benevolent, so good and kind, that she cannot bear to see her children (and we are all her children) suffering. She takes endless petitions to the ears of Jesus. She begs him for endless favors and graces for her beloved children. And He cannot refuse her, because what good Son can refuse a request from His Mother? He gives her everything she asks for. Everything. Blessings rain down from her hands like a never-ending shower of dew.
We can have every confidence in such a Mother, as we can have every confidence in Her Son.
This is what a real queen is like. This is our Mother.
Image Credit: Crown of Christian IV, of Denmark. More information here.