Memorial of Our Lady of Sorrows

Lectionary: 445

At the cross her station keeping,
Stood the mournful Mother weeping,
Close to Jesus to the last.

The prophet Jeremiah, a young man who witnessed but did not survive the fall of Jerusalem in the sixth century before Christ, spoke bitter words in his anguish:

Cursed be the day 

on which I was born!

May the day my mother gave me birth never be blessed!

Cursed be the one who brought the news to my father,

“A child, a son, has been born to you!”

filling him with great joy.

Let that man be like the cities

which the LORD relentlessly overthrew;

Let him hear war cries in the morning,

battle alarms at noonday,

because he did not kill me in the womb!

Then my mother would have been my grave,

her womb confining me forever.

Why did I come forth from the womb,

to see sorrow and pain,

to end my days in shame?

This unfortunate prophet has been called the most Christlike of all the prophets, because he heard the call to prophecy before he was born, because he never married, and because he died a martyr's death in his youth. He represents the Christ especially in his anguish and suffering. But I wonder what his mother might have said of his awful lament. 

In that respect the story of Jesus is different. Jesus certainly suffered like Jeremiah, and felt the same anguish. But we remember that his "Sorrowful Mother" stood by him on Calvary as he died. He surely could not curse the day of his birth within her hearing. 

Catholics have always remembered Mary's presence on Calvary, and we imagine an additional meeting at the fourth station on the Via Dolorosa, the Way of the Cross. It was not a happy occasion, but it was certainly blessed. The Immaculate Virgin remained open to God's grace throughout her life. Although she could sin she did not; although she might hate the killers of her son, she would not. 

Rather, the Mother believed in her Son although neither she nor anyone could comprehend the full horror of his crucifixion. She supported him like the Maccabean widow who did not flinch when her seven sons were murdered. Mary might have said something similar to the widow's plea with her son,

I do not know how you came to be in my womb; it was not I who gave you breath and life, nor was it I who arranged the elements you are made of.... Do not be afraid of this executioner, but be worthy of your brothers and accept death, so that in the time of mercy I may receive you again with your brothers.” 

With her Immaculate Heart ready to receive her Son even in the terror of that moment, Mary comforted her son. He found in her faith a bottomless well of reassurance. And because he was totally available to the grace of his mother, he received her comfort, even as he also comforted her. Theirs was a mutual bond of faith in each other, cemented by the anointing of the Holy Spirit, that could not be shaken by the physical and emotional abuse of the world around them. 

This is why we turn to God and to his precious Mother for reassurance and comfort even in our guilt, remorse, and shame. As we gaze upon their communion on that dreary day in the shadow of Jerusalem, we know they do not abandon us anymore than they might betray one another. It cannot happen. We are like the children who, seeing their parents' embrace, push in between them to be absorbed in their love. We know where we belong. 

Our Lady of Sorrows is Our Lady of Consolation. Because she knew such sorrow, we know her love for us.