As a body is one though it has many parts, and all the parts of the body, though many, are one body, so also Christ. For in one Spirit we were all baptized into one Body, whether Jews or Greeks, slaves or free persons, and we were all given to drink of one Spirit.
On this Memorial of Our Lady of Sorrows, it is not hard to understand Saint Paul’s doctrine of one body with many parts. Jesus and Mary were separated as she gave birth to him, but they remained one in Spirit always. Especially as he died on the cross his suffering was hers and his sacrifice was hers. Their faith in God was pure and undivided.
The missionary Saint Paul, travelling from Damascus to Jerusalem, from Syria to Spain, from Asia to Europe, knew in his spiritual bones the unity of the Church. If one part suffered, the whole suffered; if one part rejoiced, everyone rejoiced.
He was familiar with the Jewish custom of sending money to Jews in need throughout the Roman Empire; he taught his gentile converts to do the same, but with a more sublime motive. They should not simply give to the needy; there should be no need in the church when there is only one body. Generosity flows from one church to another as easily as blood flows from the heart to the feet.
For in one Spirit we were all baptized into one Body, whether Jews or Greeks, slaves or free persons, and we were all given to drink of one Spirit.
The Spirit is willing, as Jesus observed, but the flesh is weak. The surrender to the Spirit that Saint Paul described has not come easily to a Church that spread rapidly throughout the world. The gospel leapt from Asia to Europe, and then to the Americas and Africa. But the generosity he envisioned has faltered at apparent boundaries of race and class. It does not easily recognize the solidarity which embraces different languages and ethnic groups. Hesitant to begin with, it uses suspicions and misunderstandings to excuse its reluctance.
Our Lady of Sorrows speaks to us of universal sadness. We recognize her in Dorothea Lange’s picture of the Migrant Mother and in images of Syrian refugees. We see her daily in newscasts from around the world. No man is an island, as the seventeenth century poet, John Dunne, reminded us.
…every man is a piece of the continent, a part of the main; if a clod be washed away by the sea, Europe is the less, as well as if a promontory were, as well as any manner of thy friends or of thine own were; any man's death diminishes me, because I am involved in mankind. And therefore, never send to know for whom the bell tolls; it tolls for thee.
If the Holy Spirit fails to show us the intimate bonds of our common humanity, an epidemic will. It punishes us for failing to honor our common human nature.
Our Mother of Sorrows, with strength from above you stood by the cross, sharing in the sufferings of Jesus, and with tender care you bore him in your arms, mourning and weeping.
We praise you for your faith, which accepted the life God planned for you. We praise you for your hope, which trusted that God would do great things in you. We praise you for your love in bearing with Jesus the sorrows of his passion.
Holy Mary, may we follow your example, and stand by all your children who need comfort and love.
Mother of God, stand by us in our trials and care for us in our many needs. Pray for us now and at the hour of our death.
Amen!
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I love to write. This blog helps me to meditate on the Word of God, and I hope to make some contribution to our contemplations of God's Mighty Works.
Ordinarily, I write these reflections two or three weeks in advance of their publication. I do not intend to comment on current events.
I understand many people prefer gender-neutral references to "God." I don't disagree with them but find that language impersonal, unappealing and tasteless. When I refer to "God" I think of the One whom Jesus called "Abba" and "Father", and I would not attempt to improve on Jesus' language.
You're welcome to add a thought or raise a question.