Saturday, September 19, is the feast of Our Lady of LaSalette. The Blessed Mother appeared 180 years ago, in 1846, to two children in the French Alps. Her message was simple, which is perhaps what I find most attractive about it. She lamented three things: that people didn’t pray, that they didn’t go to Mass, and that they swore. She didn’t just say they were uncouth or nasty things. She said they were evil and that she had to restrain her Son’s hand from executing judgment for these offenses. (A link to her message is here.)

The modern world may dismiss Mary’s complaints, as Jackie Gleason might have put it, as “a mere bag of shells.” But they’re not.

Two of them are about prayer. And, let’s admit it, prayer is an area in which many Catholics skimp and don’t admit it. Our Lady asked the two seers if they prayed and they bashfully admitted, “hardly ever.”

Our Lady’s advice is simple: “Ah, my children, you should say them well, at night and in the morning, even if you say only an Our Father and a Hail Mary when you can’t do better; when you can do better, say more.”

At the very least, before you even get out of your bed, before you stand on the feet (or kneel on the knees) God gave you, is one Pater and one Ave so burdensome? And do we really want to admit — even to ourselves — that we begrudge God a minute, especially if we claim to want to spend eternity with Him?

Our Lady noted that people didn’t go to Mass. In summer, they claim they have to work in the fields. In winter, when the fields are barren, they might go just to mock religion, or maybe not bother. (Our world might not bother but, in mid-19^th century rural alpine France, with no radio, television, or internet, Mass just might have been the only “entertainment” around). The truth is, whether they had work or not, they didn’t care about being present for Mass.

Once upon a time, not that long ago, there was no question among priests that to miss Mass deliberately without a real excuse was a mortal sin. How often do we hear that now? How often, instead, do we think Catholics are doing God (or at least a parish) a favor by showing up on Sundays?

Finally, Our Lady lamented swearing, especially taking God’s Name in vain. That sin just might rank up there with contraceptive intercourse as the sin least likely to be spoken about by a modern preacher. But Our Lady did mention it. And she repudiated it.

Our society has afforded a certain cachet to vulgarity: the “f” word, once rightly considered practically obscene, has in some circles been turned into an interjection with some residual shock value. That’s truly debasing when we consider the etymology of that word.

So, yes, Our Lady provided a “simple” message. But, in one sense, Christianity’s message is “simple” — which doesn’t mean that it’s unimportant or necessarily what people want to hear.

And that’s what I find simply compelling about, and simply attractive in, the message of Our Lady of La Salette.