A Mother in the Hard Times
The Blessed Virgin Mary, our Mother, enjoys numerous titles from her children: Queen of Heaven, Mirror of Justice, Seat of Wisdom, Solace of Migrants, … Of all these, the saddest, perhaps, is Mother of Sorrows. And yet, the Church does not shy away from this title. In fact, a whole month—September—has traditionally been dedicated to this particular title of our Lady.
Why would the Church encourage us to call on Mary using
this name? Because in this face of our Lady, we see the common lot of all who
live this side of heaven: sorrow, pain and desolation. This title reminds us
that the earthly life of the Glorious Queen of Heaven was one of suffering, much like the lives of all of us who are still on our pilgrim journey.
This title brings our Lady closer still, to us who are “mourning and weeping
in this vale of tears” because of illnesses, calamities, financial problems,
disputes, insecurities, addictions, persecutions, war, hunger, and so much
more.
Devotion to our Lady of Sorrows is closely linked to the devotion to our Lord's own suffering. It is a way of entering more deeply into the sorrowful passion that led to our redemption; meditating on the sufferings of our Blessed Mother is the most perfect gateway, for she lived and experienced each moment of our Lord’s sufferings for us. The Church has traditionally meditated on seven sorrows of our Lady, and all of them, without exception, are linked to the mystery of the Cross. It is no wonder that the Memorial of Our Lady of Sorrows (15th September) is celebrated immediately after the Feast of the Triumph of the Cross (14th September).
From the earliest moments of the life of the Holy
Family, it was revealed to our Lady that the life of her Son would be a life of
sorrow, a life that would earn him the title Man of Sorrows. This was
particularly revealed to her by the saintly Simeon at the presentation of Jesus
in the Temple (Luke 2:34-35). In prophesying the suffering destiny of her Son,
Simeon also told our Lady that a sword would pierce her own heart. This
revelation of her Son’s future suffering was the very first sword, the first
sorrow.
Then the tyrant Herod, his reign apparently threatened,
wanted to murder Jesus. Mary and Joseph, with the infant Jesus, had to flee
from Bethlehem to a foreign land (Matthew 2:13-15). There’s no telling what
dangers and hardships they had to endure enroute—long-distance travel in the
first century was nothing compared to what we know it to be now. But perhaps
all this was a mere shadow compared to the constant fear that must have
tortured our Lady’s heart. There was an all-powerful man after her little child’s
life. This was the second sorrow.
Years later, the little boy Jesus got lost from his parents
in Jerusalem (Luke 2:41-51). Three days, Mary searched for her Son, with
Joseph. And on the third day, he told them he must be about his Father’s
business, Mary, who had kept the words of Simeon in her heart, recognized
that he had begun his mission which would end in his sacrificial death: the
third sorrow.
This mission eventually culminated in the way of the Cross.
And Mary, whose heart burnt with a love for Jesus more than she even loved
herself, witnessed all of it, from the trials to the scourging, to the point
when she met her Son, overburdened and bruised, defiled and abused, his face
all rent and flowing with blood, and his shoulder laden with the Cross on the
way to Calvary (Luke 23:26-31). How she must have wished for some way to ease
his pain, to suffer instead of him! Yet all God permitted her to do at this
point was to suffer with him in her heart and let God’s will be done. This was
her fourth sorrow.
She walked, following him every painful step of the way, and
watched as the nails were hammered through his body. She saw him being raised
up high on the Cross for all of us to see. In the time of Jesus, death on a
cross was the most shameful form of death. Even Roman citizens who committed
grave crimes were not crucified. In the eyes of everyone, Jesus, the so-called
Messiah, had died the most shameful and humiliating death. No one would want to
be related to the naked man on the cross. Yet Mary stood next to him, as his
Mother (John 19:25-27). To watch her Son die so painfully, this was her fifth
sorrow.
Mary had once carried Jesus in her arms, a small, helpless babe wrapped in swaddling clothes—the God who had become man—in Bethlehem. It was a joyful mystery! Now, she carried him, taken down from the cross, a lifeless, immolated corpse (see John 19:38). She had once, in deep poverty, yet with great joy, laid him in a manger while the angels sang their Gloria on a nearby mount, in the light of a mysterious star. Now she laid him in a stone-cold tomb, and left him there in the dark (cf. John 19:39-42)—the sixth and seventh sorrows.
You can download here a pdf guide on how to recite the Rosary of Our Lady of Sorrows, a devotion encouraged by our Lady herself in her apparitions to St Bridget of Sweden and at Kibeho, Rwanda.
Our Lady of Sorrows, pray for us.
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