I am re-posting a series first published on this site in September 2019.
+ + + + + + +
Memorare, O piissima Virgo. JJ Tissot. Brooklyn Museum |
September is a month in which we are invited to remember the Sorrows of Our Blessed Mother. In the seven days leading up to the feast of her nativity, we are re-posting her Seven Sorrows, praying that she will help us daily to offer reparation for sins, in the spirit of the prayer given to the three little seers at Fatima:
O my Jesus, forgive us our sins, save us from the fires of Hell, lead all souls to heaven, especially those most in need of Thy mercy.
The following post is the seventh in a series presenting the Seven Sorrows of Our Lady, based on the meditations of St Alphonsus de Liguori. I have inserted references in the text to numbered footnotes. These references are not hyperlinked but may be found by scrolling to the bottom of the page.
Quis est homo qui non fleret,
matrem Christi si videret
in tanto supplicio?
Is there one who would not weep,
whelmed in miseries so deep,
Christ's dear Mother to behold?
matrem Christi si videret
in tanto supplicio?
Is there one who would not weep,
whelmed in miseries so deep,
Christ's dear Mother to behold?
(From the 13th century Latin hymn, Stabat Mater Dolorosa)
Jesus is laid in the Sepulchre (the Seventh Sorrow)
When a mother is by the side of a suffering and dying child, she no doubt then feels and suffers all his pains; but when the afflicted child is really dead and about to be buried, and the sorrowful mother takes her last leave of him, oh God! the thought that she is to see him no more is a sorrow that exceeds all other sorrows. Behold, the last sword of sorrow which we are to consider, when Mary, after being present at the death of her Son upon the cross, after having embraced His lifeless body, was finally to leave Him in the sepulchre, never more to enjoy His beloved presence.
Mary cradles her son. JJ Tissot. Brooklyn Museum. |
Oh my Son, she seems then to continue to say in the words of Job, my Son, thou art changed to be cruel towards me: “Mutatus es mihi in crudelem.”[1] Yes, for all thy beauty, grace, virtue, and loveliness, all the signs of special love thou hast shown me, the peculiar favours thou hast bestowed on me, are all changed into so many darts of sorrow, which the more they have inflamed my love for thee, so much the more cause me cruelly to feel the pain of having lost thee. Ah, my beloved Son, in losing thee I have lost all. Thus St. Bernard speaks in her name: Oh truly begotten of God, thou wast to me a father, a son, a spouse; thou wast my life! Now I am deprived of my father, my spouse, and my Son, for with my Son whom I have lost, I lose all things.
They bear Him to the sepulchre. JJ Tissot. Brooklyn Museum. |
In the Sepulchre. JJ Tissot. Brooklyn Museum. |
The Virgin, says St. Fulgentius, earnestly desired that her soul should be buried with the body of Christ. And Mary herself made this revelation to St. Bridget: “I can truly say, that at the burial of my Son, one sepulchre contained as it were two hearts.” Finally, they take the stone and close up in the holy sepulchre the body of Jesus, that great treasure, greater than any in heaven and on earth. And here let us remark, that Mary left her heart buried with Jesus, because Jesus was all her treasure: “Where your treasure is, there will your heart be also.”[3]
And where shall we keep our hearts buried? With creatures? In the mire? And why not with Jesus, who, although he has ascended to heaven, has wished to remain, not dead but alive, in the most holy sacrament of the altar, precisely in order that He may possess our hearts? But let us return to Mary. Before quitting the sepulchre, according to St. Bonaventure, she blessed that sacred stone, saying: Oh happy stone, that doth now inclose that body which was contained nine months in my womb, I bless thee, and envy thee; I leave thee to guard my Son for me, who is my only good, my only love. And then turning to the eternal Father, she said: Oh Father, to thee I recommend him, who is thy Son and mine; and thus bidding a last farewell to her Son, and to the sepulchre, she returned to her own house.
This poor mother went away so afflicted and sad, according to St. Bernard, that she moved many to tears even against their will: “Multos etiam invitos ad lacrymas provocabat;” so that wherever she passed, all wept who met her: “Omnes plorabant qui obviabant ei,” and could not restrain their tears. And he adds, that those holy disciples, and the women who accompanied her, mourned for her even more than for their Lord. St. Bonaventure says, that her two sisters covered her with a mourning cloak: The sisters of our Lady wrapped her in a veil as a widow, covering as it were her whole countenance. And he also says, that passing, on her return, before the cross, still wet with the blood of her Jesus, she was the first to adore it: Oh holy cross, she exclaimed, I kiss thee and adore thee; for thou art no longer an infamous wood, but a throne of love, and an altar of mercy, consecrated by the blood of the divine Lamb, who has been sacrificed upon thee, for the salvation of the world.
She then leaves the cross and returns to her house; there the afflicted mother casts her eyes around, and no longer sees her Jesus; but instead of the presence of her dear Son, all the memorials of His holy life and cruel death are before her. There she is reminded of the embraces she gave her Son in the stable of Bethlehem, of the conversations held with Him for so many years in the shop of Nazareth: she is reminded of their mutual affection, of His loving looks, of the words of eternal life that came forth from that divine mouth. And then comes before her the fatal scene of that very day; she sees those nails, those thorns, that lacerated flesh of her Son, those deep wounds, those uncovered bones, that open mouth, those closed eyes.
Alas! what a night of sorrow was that night for Mary! The sorrowful mother turned to St. John, and said mournfully: Ah, John, where is thy master? Then she asked of Magdalen: Daughter, tell me where is thy beloved? Oh God! who has taken him from us? Mary weeps, and all those who are with her weep. And thou, oh my soul, dost thou not weep! Ah, turn to Mary, and say to her with St. Bonaventure: Let me, oh my Lady, let me weep; thou art innocent, I am guilty. At least entreat her to permit thee to weep with her: “Fac ut tecum lugeam.” She weeps for love, and thou dost weep through sorrow for thy sins. And thus weeping, thou mayest have the happy lot of Him of whom we read in the following example.
Example
Father Engelgrave relates that a certain religious was so tormented by scruples, that sometimes he was almost driven to despair, but having great devotion to Mary, the mother of sorrows, he had recourse to her in the agony of his spirit, and was much comforted by contemplating her dolours. Death came, and the devil tormented him more than ever with scruples, and tempted him to despair. When, behold our merciful mother, seeing her poor son so afflicted, appeared to him, and said to him: “And why, oh my son, art thou so overcome with sorrow, thou who hast so often consoled me by thy compassion for my sorrows? Be comforted,” she said to him;” Jesus sends me to thee to console thee; be comforted, rejoice, and come with me to paradise.” And at these words the devout religious tranquilly expired, full of consolation and confidence.
Prayer
My afflicted mother, I will not leave thee alone to weep; no, I wish to keep thee company with my tears. This grace I ask of thee to-day: obtain for me a continual remembrance of the passion of Jesus, and of thine also, and a tender devotion to them, that all the remaining days of my life may be spent in weeping for thy sorrows, oh my mother, and for those of my Redeemer. I hope that these dolours will give me the confidence and strength not to despair at the hour of my death, at the sight of the offences I have committed against my Lord. By these must I obtain pardon, perseverance, paradise, where I hope to rejoice with thee, and sing the infinite mercy of my God through all eternity: thus I hope, thus may it be. Amen, amen.
Notes
[1] [21] Thou art changed to be cruel toward me, and in the hardness of thy hand thou art against me.
Mutatus es mihi in crudelem, et in duritia manus tuae adversaris mihi. [Job 30]
[2] Cesare Baronio (Venerable): 1538 – 1607. Italian cardinal and ecclesiastical historian.
[3] [34] For where your treasure is, there will your heart be also.
Ubi enim thesaurus vester est, ibi et cor vestrum erit. [Luke 12]
Totus tuus ego sum
Et omnia mea tua sunt;
Tecum tutus semper sum:
Ad Jesum per Mariam
Et omnia mea tua sunt;
Tecum tutus semper sum:
Ad Jesum per Mariam
No comments:
Post a Comment