Revelation of the Daily Prayer that Our Lady Used to Say

Revelation of the Daily Prayer that Our Lady Used to Say

I prostrate myself in your Presence Oh God Most High and I give You Thanks and Praise for your Immutable Being, for your Infinite Perfections, and for having created me out of nothing.

I acknowledge myself as your creature and as the work of your hands. I bless you and I adore You. I give you Honour, Magnificence and Divinity as the Supreme Lord and Creator of myself and of all that exists.

I raise up my Spirit to place it into your hands. I offer myself with profound humility and resignation to You and I ask you to dispose of Me according to your Holy Will during this day and during all the days of my life, and I ask You to teach me to fulfill whatever would be to your greater pleasure.

Revelation to Sr Maria of Agreda From the Mystical City of God
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Feasts of the Blessed Virgin Mary

Feasts of the Blessed Virgin Mary

1 January, Mother of God

2 February, Purification

25 March, Annunciation by Saint Gabriel

31 May, Visitation by Mary to Saint Elizabeth

2 August, Virgin of Los Angeles

15 August, Assumption into Heaven

8 September, Birthday; Feast of the Virgin of Charity

15 September, Feast of Our Lady of Sorrows

21 November, Presentation of Mary at the Temple

8 December, Mary's Immaculate Conception

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The Dolors of Mary

The Dolors of Mary

Click Below for Meditations

St.Simeon's Prophecy
The Flight into Egypt
The Loss of Jesus in the Temple
Meeting of Mary and Jesus on the Way toCalvary
The Death of Jesus on the Cross
The Piercing of the Side of Jesus and theDeposition from the Cross
The Burial of Jesus

by St. Alphonsus Liguori

taken from the Victories of the Martyrs

The Burial of Jesus

The Burial of Jesus

When a mother is by the side of her suffering and dying child, she undoubtedly feels and suffers all his pains; but after he is actually dead, when, before the body is carried to the grave, the afflicted mother must bid her child a last farewell; then, indeed, the thought that she is to see him no more is a grief that exceeds all other griefs. Behold the last sword of Mary's sorrow, which we have now to consider; for after witnessing the death of her Son on the Cross, and embracing for a last time His lifeless body, this blessed Mother had to leave Him in the sepulchre. never more to enjoy His beloved presence on earth. 

That we may better understand this last dolor, we will return to Calvary and consider the afflicted Mother, who still holds the lifeless body of her Son clasped in her arms. O my Son, she seemed to say in the words of Job, my Son, Thou art changed to be cruel towards me. [Job, xxx. 21] Yes, for all Thy noble qualities, Thy beauty, grace, and virtues, Thy engaging manners, all the marks of special love which Thou hast bestowed upon me, the peculiar favors Thou hast granted me,---all are now changed into grief, and as so many arrows pierce my heart, and the more they have excited me to love Thee, so much, the more cruelly do they now make me feel Thy loss. Ah, my own beloved Son, in losing Thee I have lost all. Thus does St. Bernard speak in her name: "O truly-begotten of God. Thou wast to me a father, a son, a spouse: Thou wast my very soul! Now I am deprived of my father, widowed of my spouse, a desolate. childless Mother; having lost my only Son, I have lost all."

Thus was Mary, with her Son locked in her arms, absorbed in grief. The holy disciples, fearful that the poor Mother might die of grief, approached her to take the body of her Son from her arms to bear it away for burial. This they did with gentle and respectable violence, and having embalmed it, they wrapped it in a linen cloth which was already prepared. On this cloth, which is still preserved at Turin, our Lord was pleased to leave to the world an impression of his sacred body. 

The disciples then bore him to the tomb. To do this, they first of all raised the sacred body on their shoulders, and then the mournful train set forth; choirs of angels from heaven accompanied it; the holy women followed, and with them the afflicted Mother also followed her Son to the place of burial. When they had reached the appointed place, so how willingly would Mary have there buried herself alive with her Son had such been his will r' for this she herself revealed to St. Bridget.' But such not being the divine will, there are many authors who say that she accompanied the sacred body of Jesus into the sepulchre, where, according to Baronius,' the disciples also deposited the nails and the crown of thorns. In raising the stone to close up the entrance, the holy disciples of the Saviour had to approach our Blessed Lady, and say: Now, O Lady, we must close the sepulchre: forgive us, look once more at thy Son, and bid him a last farewell. Then my beloved Son (for thus must the afflicted Mother have spoken); then I shall see Thee no more ? Receive, therefore, On this last occasion that I behold Thee, receive my last farewell, the farewell of thy dear Mother, and receive also my heart, which I leave buried with Thee, "The Blessed Virgin," writes St. Fulgentius, "would ardently have desired to bury her soul with the body of Christ." . And this Mary herself revealed to St. Bridget, saying: " I can truly say that at the burial of my Son one tomb contained as it were two hearts,"" 

Finally, the disciples raised the stone and closed up the holy sepulchre, and in it the body of Jesus, that great treasure---a treasure so great that neither earth nor Heaven had a greater. Here I may be permitted to make a short digression, and remark that Mary's heart was buried with Jesus, because Jesus was her whole treasure: Where your treasure is, there will your heart be also. [Luke xii. 34] And where, may we ask, are our hearts buried? In creatures---perchance in mire. And why not in Jesus, Who, although He has ascended to Heaven, is still pleased to remain on earth, not dead indeed, but living in the Most Holy Sacrament of the altar, precisely that our hearts may be with Him, and that He may possess them? 

But let us return to Mary. Before leaving the sepulchre, according to St. Bonaventure, she blessed the sacred stone which closed it, saying: "O happy stone, that doth now enclose that sacred body, which for nine months was contained in my womb; I bless thee and envy thee; I leave thee the guardian of my Son, of that Son Who is my whole treasure and all my love." Then, raising her heart to the Eternal Father, she said, "O Father, to Thee do I recommend Him---Him Who is thy Son at the same time that He is mine." Thus bidding her last farewell to her beloved Jesus and to the sepulchre, she left it, and returned to her own house. "This Mother," says St. Bernard, "went away so afflicted and sad, that she moved many to tears in spite of themselves; and wherever she passed, all who met her wept," and could not restrain their tears. And he adds that the holy disciples and women who accompanied her "mourned even more for her than for their Lord." 

St. Bonaventure says that her sisters covered her with a mourning cloak: "The sisters of our Lady veiled her as a widow, almost covering her whole face." 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. "O holy Cross," she then said, " I kiss thee, I adore thee; for thou art no longer an infamous gibbet, but a throne of love and an altar of mercy, consecrated by the Blood of the Divine Lamb, which on thee has been sacrificed for the salvation of the world." 

She then left the Cross, and returned home. When there, the afflicted Mother cast her eyes around, and no longer saw her Jesus; but, instead of the sweet presence of her dear Son, the remembrance of His beautiful life and cruel death presented itself before her eyes. She remembered how she had pressed that Son to her bosom in the crib of Bethlehem; the conversation she had held with Him during the many years They had dwelt in the house of Nazareth; she remembered Their mutual affection, Their loving looks, the words of eternal life which fell from those Divine lips; and then the sad scene which she had that day witnessed again presented itself before her. The nails, the thorns, the lacerated flesh of her Son, those deep wounds, those uncovered bones, that open mouth, those dimmed eyes, all presented themselves before her. Ah, what a night of sorrow was that night for Mary! The afflicted Mother, turning to St. John, mournfully said: "Ah John, tell me where is thy Master?" She then asked the Magdalene: "Daughter, tell me, where is thy beloved? O God, Who has taken Him from us?" Mary wept, and all who were present wept with her. 

And thou, my soul, weepest not! Ah, turn to Mary, and address her with St. Bonaventure, saying: "O my own sweet Lady, let me weep; thou art innocent, I am guilty." Entreat her at least to let thee weep with her: "Grant that with thee I may weep." She weeps for love; do thou weep through sorrow for thy sins. 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 with scruples, that he was sometimes almost driven to despair; but as he had the greatest devotion to Mary of Sorrows, he always had recourse to her in his interior agonies, and felt himself consoled whilst meditating on her dolors. Death came, and the devil then tormented him more than ever with scruples, and tempted him to despair. When, behold, the compassionate Mother seeing her poor son in such anguish, appeared to him, saying: "And thou, my son, why art thou so overcome with sorrow? Why fearest thou so much? Thou who hast so often consoled me by pitying me in my sorrows. But now," she added, "Jesus sends me to console thee; be comforted, then; rejoice, and come with me to Heaven." On hearing these consoling words, the devout religious, filled with joy and confidence, tranquilly expired. 

Prayer

My afflicted Mother, I will not leave thee alone to weep; no, I will accompany thee with my tears. This grace I now ask of thee: obtain that I may always bear in mind and always have a tender devotion towards the Passion of Jesus and thy sorrows, that the remainder of my days may thus be spent in weeping over thy sufferings, my own sweet Mother, and those of my Redeemer. These sorrows, I trust, will give me the confidence and strength that I shall require at the hour of death, that I may not despair at the sight of the many sins by which I have offended my Lord. They must obtain me pardon, perseverance, and Heaven, where I hope to rejoice with thee, and to sing the infinite mercies of my God for all eternity. Thus do I hope; thus may it be. Amen. Amen.

By Saint Alphonsus de Liguori
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The Piercing of the Side of Jesus and the Deposition from the Cross

The Piercing of the Side of Jesus and the Deposition from the Cross

O all ye that pass by the way, attend, and see if there be any sorrow like to my sorrow. [Lam. i. 12] Devout souls, listen to what the sorrowful Mary says this day: "My beloved children, I do not wish you to console me; no, for my soul is no longer susceptible of consolation in this world after the death of my dear Jesus. If you wish to please me, this is what I ask of you; behold me, and see if there ever has been in the world a grief like mine, in seeing Him who was all my love torn from me with such cruelty." But, my sovereign Lady, since thou wilt not be consoled, and hast so great a thirst for sufferings, I must tell thee that, even with the death of thy Son, thy sorrows have not ended. On this day thou wilt be wounded by another sword of sorrow, a cruel lance will pierce the side of thy Son already dead, and thou hast to receive Him in thine arms after He is taken down from the Cross. 

Now we are to consider the sixth dolor which afflicted this poor Mother. Attend and weep. Hitherto the dolors of Mary tortured her one by one; on this day they are all, as it were, united to assail her. 

It is enough to tell a mother that her son is dead, to excite all her love towards her lost child. Some persons, that they may lessen a mother's grief, remind her of the displeasure at the time caused by her departed child. But I, my Queen, did I thus wish to lighten thy grief for the death of Jesus, for what displeasure that He ever caused thee could I remind thee? No, indeed. He always loved thee, always obeyed thee, and always respected thee. Now thou hast lost Him, who can ever tell thy grief? Do thou explain it, thou who hast experienced it. 

A devout author says, that when our beloved Redeemer was dead, the first care of the great Mother was to accompany in spirit the most holy soul of her Son, and present it to the eternal Father. "I present Thee, O my God," Mary must then have said, "the Immaculate soul of Thine and my Son; He has now obeyed Thee unto death; do Thou, then, receive it in Thine arms. Thy justice is now satisfied, Thy will is accomplished; behold, the great sacrifice to Thy eternal glory is consummated." Then, turning towards the lifeless members of her Jesus, "O wounds," she said, "O wounds of love, I adore you, and in you do I rejoice; for by your means salvation is given to the world. You will remain open in the body of my Son, and be the refuge of those who have recourse to you. O, how many, through you, will receive the pardon of their sins, and by you be inflamed with love for the supreme good!"

That the joy of the following Paschal Sabbath might not be disturbed, the Jews desired that the body of Jesus should be taken down from the Cross; but as this could not be done unless the criminals were dead, men came with iron bars to break our Lord's legs, as they had already done those of the two thieves who were crucified with Him. Mary was still weeping over the death of her Son, when she saw these armed men advancing towards her Jesus. At this sight she first trembled with fear, and then exclaimed: "Ah, my Son is already dead; cease to outrage Him; torment me no more, who am His poor Mother." She implored them, writes St. Bonaventure, "not to break His legs." But while she thus spoke, O God! she saw a soldier brandish a lance, and pierce the side of Jesus: One of the soldiers with a spear opened His side, and immediately there came out Blood came out Blood and water. [John, xix. 34] At the stroke of the spear the Cross shook, and, as it was afterwards revealed to St. Bridget, the heart of Jesus was divided into two,---there came out Blood and water; for only those few drops of Blood remained, and even those our Saviour was pleased to shed, that we might understand that He had no more Blood to give us. The injury of that stroke was inflicted on Jesus, but Mary suffered its pain. "Christ," says the devout Lanspergius, "shared this wound with His Mother; He received the insult, His Mother endured its agony." 

The holy Fathers maintain that this was literally the sword foretold to the Blessed Virgin by St. Simeon: a sword, not a material one, but one of grief, which transpierced her blessed soul in the heart of Jesus, where it always dwelt. Thus, amongst others, St. Bernard says: "The lance which opened His side passed through the soul of the Blessed Virgin, which could never leave her Son's heart." The Divine Mother herself revealed the same thing to St. Bridget: "When the spear was drawn out, the point appeared red with Blood: then, seeing the heart of my most dear Son pierced, it seemed to me as if my own heart was also pierced." An Angel told the same Saint, "that such were the sufferings of Mary, that it was only by a miraculous interposition on the part of God that she did not die."  In her other dolors she at least had her Son to compassionate her; but now she has not even Him to pity her. 

The afflicted Mother, fearing that other injuries might still be inflicted on her Son, entreated Joseph of Arimathea to obtain the body of her Jesus from Pilate, that at least in death she might guard and protect it from further outrage. Joseph went, and represented to Pilate the grief and desires of this afflicted Mother. St. Anselm  believes that compassion for the Mother softened the heart of Pilate, and moved him to grant her the body of the Saviour. 

Jesus then was taken down from the Cross. O most sacred Virgin, after thou hast given thy Son to the world, with so great love, for our salvation, behold the world now restores Him to thee; but, O God, in what state dost Thou receive Him? O world, said Mary, how dost thou return Him to me? My Son was white and ruddy; [Cant. v. 10] but thou returnest Him to me blackened with bruises, and red---yes! but with the wound which thou hast inflicted upon Him. He was all fair and beautiful; but now there is no more beauty in Him; He is all disfigured. His aspect enamoured all: now He excites horror in all who behold Him. "Oh, how many swords," says St. Bonaventure, "pierced the poor Mother's soul" when she received the body of her Son from the Cross! Let us only consider the anguish it would cause any mother to receive into her arms the body of her lifeless son. 

It was revealed to St. Bridget, that three ladders were placed against the Cross to take down the sacred body; the holy disciples first drew out the nails from the hands and feet, and, according to Metaphrastes, gave them to Mary. Then one supported the upper part of the body of Jesus, and the other the lower, and thus they took it from the Cross. Bernardine de Bustis describes the afflicted Mother as standing, and extending her arms to meet her dear Son; she embraced Him, and then sat at the foot of the Cross. His mouth was open, His eyes were dim; she then examined His mangled flesh and uncovered bones; she took off the crown, and saw the sad injuries which the thorns had inflicted on that sacred head; she saw the holes in His hands and feet, and thus addressed Him: "Ah, Son, to what has Thy love for men brought Thee; and what evil hadst Thou done them, that they should thus cruelly have tormented Thee? Thou wast my father" (continues Bernardine de Bustis, in Mary's name), "Thou wast my brother, my spouse, my delight, my glory; Thou wast my all!" My Son, see my affliction, look at me, console me; but no, Thou no longer lookest at me. Speak, say but a word, and console me; but Thou speakest no more, for Thou art dead. Then, turning to those barbarous instruments of torture, she said, O cruel thorns, O cruel nails, O merciless spear, how, how could you thus torture your Creator? But why do I speak of thorns or nails? Alas! sinners, she exclaimed, it is you who have thus cruelly treated my Son. 

Thus did Mary speak and complain of us. But what would she now say, were she still susceptible of suffering? What would be her grief to see that men, not withstanding that her Son has died for them, still continue to torment and crucify Him by their sins! Let us, at least, cease to torment this afflicted Mother; and if we have hitherto grieved her by our sins, let us now do all that she desires. She says, Return, ye transgressors, to the heart. [ls. xlvi. 8] Sinners, return to the wounded heart of my Jesus; return as penitents, and He will welcome you. "Flee from Him to Him," she continues to say with the Abbot Guerric; "from the Judge to the Redeemer, from the tribunal to the Cross." Our Blessed Lady herself revealed to St. Bridget, that "she closed the eyes of her Son, when He was taken down from the Cross, but she could not close His arms;" Jesus Christ giving us thereby to understand that He desired to remain with His arms extended to receive all penitent sinners who return to Him. "O world," continues Mary, behold, then, thy time is the time of lovers. [Ezek. xvi. 8] "Now that my Son has died to save thee, it is no longer for thee a time of fear, but one of love---a time to love Him, Who to show thee the love He bore thee Was pleased to suffer so much." "The Heart of Jesus," says St. Bernard, "was wounded that, through the visible wound, the invisible wound of love might be seen." "If, then," concludes Mary, in the words of Blessed Raymond Jordano, "my Son by excess of love was pleased that His side should be opened, that He might give thee His Heart, it is right, O man, that thou in return shouldst also give Him thine." And if you desire, O children of Mary, to find a place in the heart of Jesus, without fear of being rejected, "go," says Ubertino da Casale, "go with Mary, for she will obtain the grace for you." 

EXAMPLE

In the city of Cesena there lived two sinners who were great friends. One of them, whose name was Bartholomew, in the midst of his wickedness preserved the devotion of daily reciting the hymn "Stabat Mater" in honor of Mary in Sorrow. He was one day reciting this hymn [see Seven Sorrows Devotion link at the bottom of the page], when he had a vision, in which he seemed to stand with his wicked friend in a lake of fire; and he saw that the most Holy Virgin moved to compassion, extended her hand to him, withdrew him from the fire, and advised him to ask pardon of Jesus Christ, Who seemed to forgive him on account of the prayers of His Mother. After the vision, Bartholomew heard that his companion was dead, having been shot;---and he thus knew that what he had seen was true. He then renounced the world, and entered the Order of Capuchins, where he led a most austere life, and died with the reputation of sanctity. 

Prayer

  O afflicted Virgin! O soul great in virtue but great also in sorrow, for the one and the other took their rise in that immense love with which, thy heart was inflamed towards God, for thou couldst love Him alone; ah, Mother, pity me, for instead of loving God I have greatly offended Him. Thy sorrows encourage me to hope for pardon. But this is not enough; I wish to love my Lord; and who can better obtain me this love than thou, who art the Mother of fair love? Ah, Mary, thou comfortest all; console me also. Amen.

By Saint Alphonsus de Liguori
Photo Credit Waiting for the Word

The Death of Jesus on the Cross

The Death of Jesus on the Cross

We have now to witness a new kind of Martyrdom---a Mother condemned to see an innocent Son, and One Whom she loves with the whole affection of her soul, cruelly tormented and put to death before her own eyes. 

There stood by the Cross of Jesus His Mother. (John 19:25) St. John believed that in these words he had said enough of Mary's Martyrdom. Consider her at the foot of the Cross in the presence of her dying Son, and then see if there be a sorrow like unto her sorrow. Let us remain for awhile this day on Calvary, and consider the fifth sword which, in the death of Jesus, transfixed the heart of Mary. 

As soon as our agonized Redeemer had reached the Mount of Calvary, the executioners stripped Him of His clothes, and piercing His hands and feet "not with sharp, but with blunt nails," as St. Bernard says, to torment Him more, they fastened Him on the Cross. Having crucified Him, they planted the Cross, and thus left Him to die. The executioners left Him; but not so Mary. She then drew nearer to the Cross, to be present at His death: "I did not leave Him" (thus the Blessed Virgin revealed to St. Bridget), "but stood nearer to the Cross."

"But what did it avail thee, O Lady," says St. Bonaventure, "to go to Calvary, and see this Son expire? Shame should have prevented thee; for His disgrace was thine, since thou wert His Mother. At least, horror of witnessing such a crime as the crucifixion of a God by His Own creatures should have prevented thee from going there." But the same Saint answers, "Ah, thy heart did not then think of its own sorrows, but of the sufferings and death of thy dear Son," and therefore thou wouldst thyself be present, at least to compassionate Him. "Ah, true Mother," says the Abbot William, "most loving Mother, whom not even the fear of death could separate from thy beloved Son!"

But, O God, what a cruel sight was it there to behold this Son in agony on the Cross, and at its foot this Mother in agony, suffering all the torments endured by her Son! Listen to the words in which Mary revealed to St. Bridget the sorrowful state in which she saw her dying Son on the Cross: "My dear Jesus was breathless, exhausted, and in His last agony on the Cross; His eyes were sunk, half closed, and lifeless; His lips hanging, and His mouth open; His cheeks hollow and drawn in; His face elongated, His nose sharp, His countenance sad; His head had fallen on His breast, His hair was black with Blood, His stomach collapsed, His arms and legs stiff, and His whole body covered with wounds and Blood." 

All these sufferings of Jesus were also those of Mary; "Every torture inflicted on the body of Jesus," says St. Jerome, "was a wound in the heart of the Mother." "Whoever then was present on the Mount of Calvary," says St. John Chrysostom, "might see two altars, on which two great sacrifices were consummated; the one in the body of Jesus, the other in the heart of Mary." Nay, better still may we say with St. Bonaventure, "there was but one altar---that of the Cross of the Son, on which, together with His Divine Lamb, the victim, the Mother was also sacrificed;" therefore the Saint asks this Mother, "O Lady, where art thou? Near the Cross? Nay, rather, thou art on the Cross, crucified, sacrificing thyself with thy Son." St. Augustine assures us of the same thing: "The Cross and nails of the Son were, also those of His Mother; with Christ crucified the Mother was also crucified." Yes; for, as St. Bernard says, "Love inflicted on the heart of Mary the tortures caused by nails in the body of Jesus." So much so, that, as St. Bernardine writes, "At the same time that the Son sacrificed His body, the Mother sacrificed her soul." Mothers ordinarily fly from the presence of their dying children; but when a mother is obliged to witness, such a scene, she procures all possible relief for her child; she arranges his bed, that he may be more at ease; she administers refreshments to him; and thus the poor mother soothes her own grief. Ah, most afflicted of all Mothers! O Mary, thou hast to witness the agony of thy dying Jesus; but thou canst administer Him no relief. Mary heard her Son exclaim, I thirst, but she could not even give Him a drop of water to refresh Him in that great thirst. She could only say, as St. Vincent Ferrer remarks, "My Son, I have only the water of tears." She saw that on that bed of torture her Son, suspended by three nails, could find no repose; she would have clasped Him in her arms to give Him relief, or that at least He might there have expired; but she could not. "In vain," says St. Bernard, "did she extend her arms; they sank back empty on her breast." She beheld that poor Son, Who in His sea of grief sought consolation, as it was foretold by the prophet, but in vain: I have trodden the winepress alone; I looked about and there was none to help; I sought, and there was none to give aid. [Is. lxiii. 3] But who amongst men would console Him, since all were enemies? Even on the Cross He was taunted and blasphemed on all sides: And they that passed by, blasphemed Him, wagging their heads. [Matt. xxvii. 39] Some said to His face, If Thou be the Son of God, come down from the Cross." Others, He saved others, Himself He cannot save. Again, If He be the King of Israel, let Him now come down from the Cross. Our Blessed Lady herself said to St. Bridget, "I heard some say that my Son was a thief; others, that He was an impostor; others, that no one deserved death more than He did; and every word was a new sword of grief to my heart." 

But that which the most increased the sorrows which Mary endured through compassion for her Son, was hearing Him complain on the Cross that even His Eternal Father had abandoned Him: My God, My God, why hast Thou forsaken Me? [Matt. xxvii. 46] Words which the Divine Mother told the same St. Bridget could never, during her whole life, depart from her mind. So that the afflicted Mother saw her Jesus suffering on every side; she desired to comfort Him, but could not. 

That which grieved her the most was to see that she herself, by her presence and sorrow, increased the sufferings of her Son. "The grief," says St. Bernard," which filled Mary's heart, as a torrent flowed into and embittered the heart of Jesus."  "So much so," says the same Saint, "that Jesus on the Cross suffered more from compassion for His Mother than from His Own torments." He thus speaks in the name of our Blessed Lady: "I stood with my eyes fixed on Him, and His on me, and He grieved more for me than for Himself." And then, speaking of Mary beside her dying Son, he says, "that she lived dying without being able to die." Near the Cross of Christ His Mother stood half-dead; she spoke not; dying she lived, and living she died; nor could she die, for death was her very life." 

Passino writes that Jesus Christ Himself one day, speaking to blessed Baptista Varani of Camerino, assured her that when on the Cross, so great was His affliction at seeing His Mother at His feet in so bitter an anguish, that compassion for her caused Him to die without consolation; so much so, that the Blessed Baptista, being supernaturally enlightened as to the greatness of this suffering of Jesus, exclaimed, "O Lord, tell me no more of this Thy sorrow, for I can no longer bear it." 

"All," says Simon of Cassia, "who then saw this Mother silent, and not uttering a complaint in the midst of so great suffering, were filled with astonishment." But if Mary's lips were silent, her heart was not so, for she incessantly offered the life of her Son to the Divine justice for our salvation. Therefore, we know that by the merits of her dolors she cooperated in our birth to the life of grace; and hence we are the children of her sorrows. "Christ," says Lanspergius, "was pleased that she, the cooperatress in our redemption, and whom He had determined to give us for our Mother, should be there present; for it was at the foot of the Cross that she was to bring us, her children, forth." If any consolation entered that sea of bitterness, the heart of Mary, the only one was this, that she knew that by her sorrows she was leading us to eternal salvation, as Jesus Himself revealed to St. Bridget: "My Mother Mary, on account of her compassion and love, was made the Mother of all in Heaven and on earth." And indeed these were the last words with which Jesus bid her farewell before His death: this was His last recommendation, leaving us to her for her children in the person of St. John: Woman, behold thy son. [John xix. 26] From that time Mary began to perform this good office of a mother for us; for St. Peter Damian attests, "that by the prayers of Mary, who stood between the Cross of the good thief and that of her Son, the thief was converted and saved, and thereby she repaid a former service." For, as other authors also relate, this thief had been kind to Jesus and Mary on their journey to Egypt; and this same office the Blessed Virgin has ever continued, and still continues, to perform. 

EXAMPLE

Blessed Joachim Piccolomini had always a most tender devotion for Mary, and from his childhood was in the habit of visiting an image of our Blessed Lady of Sorrows, which was in the neighboring church, three times a day; and on Saturdays, in her honor, he abstained from all food; and in addition to this he always rose at midnight to meditate on her dolors. But let us see how abundantly this good Mother recompensed him. In the first place, when he was a young man she appeared to him and desired him to embrace the Order of the Servites and this the holy young man did. Again, in the latter years of his life she appeared to him with two crowns in her hands: the one was composed of rubies, and this was to reward him for his compassion for her sorrows; the other of pearls, as a recompense for his virginity, which he vowed in her honor. Shortly before his death she once more appeared to him; and then the Saint begged, as a favor, that he might die on the same day on which Jesus Christ had expired. Our Blessed Lady immediately gratified him, saying: "It is well: prepare thyself; for tomorrow, Good Friday, thou shalt die suddenly as thou desirest; tomorrow thou shalt be with me in Heaven." And so it was; for the next day, during the singing of the Passion according to St. John, at the words, Now there stood by the Cross of Jesus His Mother, he fell into the last struggles of death; and at the words, He bowed down His head and expired, the Saint also breathed his last; and in the same moment the whole church was filled with an extraordinary light and most delicious perfume! 

Prayer

Ah, Mother, the most sorrowful of all mothers, thy son is, then, dead; that Son so amiable, and Who loved thee so much! Weep, then, for thou hast reason to weep. Who can ever console thee? The thought alone that Jesus by His death conquered Hell, opened Heaven until then closed to men, and gained so many souls, can console thee. From that throne of the Cross He will reign in so many hearts, which, conquered by His love, will serve Him with love. Disdain not, in the mean time, O my Mother, to keep me near thee, to weep with thee, since I have so much reason to weep for the crimes by which I have offended Him. Ah, Mother of Mercy, I hope, first, through the death of my Redeemer, and then through thy sorrows, to obtain pardon and eternal salvation. Amen

By Saint Alphonsus de Ligouri
Photo Credit Waiting for the Word

Meeting of Mary and Jesus on the Way to Calvary

Meeting of Mary and Jesus on the Way to Calvary

St. Bernardine says, that to form an idea of the greatness of Mary's grief in losing her Jesus by death, we must consider the love that this Mother bore to her Son. All mothers feel the sufferings of their children as their own. Hence, when the Canaanitish woman entreated our Saviour to deliver her daughter from the devil that tormented her, she asked Him rather to pity her, the mother, than her daughter: Have mercy on me, O Lord, Thou Son of David, my daughter is grievously troubled by a devil. (Matt. xv. 22) But what mother ever loved her son as Mary loved Jesus? He was her only Son, reared amidst so many troubles; a most amiable Son, and tenderly loving His Mother; a Son Who, at the same time that He was her Son, was also her God, Who had come on earth to enkindle in the hearts of all the fire of Divine love, as He Himself declared: I am come to cast fire on the earth, and what will I but that it be kindled? [Luke xii. 49] Let us only imagine what a flame He must have enkindled in that pure heart of His holy Mother, void as it was of every earthly affection. In fine, the Blessed Virgin herself told St. Bridget, "that love had rendered her heart and that of her Son but one."  That blending together of servant and Mother, of Son and God, created in the heart of Mary a fire composed of a thousand flames. But the whole of this flame of love was afterwards, at the time of the Passion, changed into a sea of grief, when St. Bernardine declares, "that if all the sorrows of the world were united, they would not equal that of the glorious Virgin Mary." Yes, because, as Richard of St. Laurence writes, "the more tenderly His Mother loved, so much the more deeply was she wounded." The greater was her love for Him, the greater was her grief at the sight of His sufferings; and especially 'when she met her Son, already condemned to death, and bearing His Cross to the place of punishment. This is the fourth sword of sorrow that we have this day to consider. 

The Blessed Virgin revealed to St. Bridget, that when the time of the Passion of our Lord was approaching, her eyes were always filled with tears, as she thought of her beloved Son, Whom she was about to lose on earth, and that the prospect of that approaching suffering caused her to be seized with fear, and a cold sweat to cover her whole body.

Behold, the appointed day at last came, and Jesus, in tears, went to take leave of His Mother, before going to death. St. Bonaventure, contemplating Mary on that night, says: "Thou didst spend it without sleep, and whilst others slept thou didst remain watching." In the morning the disciples of Jesus Christ came to this afflicted Mother, the one to bring her one account, the other another; but all were tidings of sorrow, verifying in her the prophecy of Jeremias: Weeping, she hath wept in the night, and her tears are on her cheeks; there is none to comfort her of all them that were dear to her. [[Lam. i. 2] Some then came to relate to her the cruel treatment of her Son in the house of Caiphas; and others, the insults He had received from Herod. Finally---to come to our point, I omit all the rest---St. John came, and announced to Mary that the most unjust Pilate had already condemned Him to die on the Cross. I say the most unjust Pilate; for, as St. Leo remarks, "This unjust judge condemned Him to death with the same lips with which he had declared Him innocent." "Ah! afflicted Mother," said St. John, "thy Son is already condemned to death; He is already gone forth, bearing Himself His Cross, on His way to Calvary," as the Saint afterwards related in his Gospels: and bearing His Own Cross, He went forth to that place which is called Calvary. [John xix. 17] "Come. if thou desirest to see Him, and bid Him a last farewell, in some street through which He must pass."

Mary goes with St. John, and by the Blood with which the way is sprinkled, she perceives that her Son has already passed. This she revealed to St. Bridget: " By the footsteps of my Son, I knew where He had passed: for along the way the ground was marked with Blood."  St. Bonaventure represents the afflicted Mother taking a shorter way, and placing herself at the corner of a street, to meet her afflicted Son as He was passing by. "The most sorrowful Mother," says St. Bernard, "met her most sorrowful Son." While Mary was waiting in that place, how much must she have heard said by the Jews, who soon recognized her, against her beloved Son, and perhaps even words of mocking against herself. 

Alas, what a scene of sorrows then presented itself before her!---the nails, the hammers, the cords, the fatal instruments of the death of her Son, all of which were borne before Him. And what a sword must the sound of that trumpet have been to her heart, which proclaimed the sentence pronounced against her Jesus! 

But behold, the instruments, the trumpeter, and the executioners, have already passed; she raised her eyes, and saw, O God! a young Man covered with Blood and wounds from head to foot, a wreath of thorns on His head, and two heavy beams on His shoulders, She looked at Him, and hardly recognized Him, saying, with Isaias, and we have seen Him, and there was no sightliness. [Is. liii. 2] Yes, for the wounds, the bruises, and the clotted Blood, gave Him the appearance of a leper: we have thought Him as it were a leper; [Is. liii. 4] so that He could no longer be known: and His look was, as it were, hidden and despised; whereupon we esteemed Him not. [Ibid. 3] But at length love revealed Him to her, and as soon as she knew that it indeed was He, ah, what love and fear must then have filled her heart! as St. Peter of Alcantara says in his meditations. On the one hand she desired to behold Him, and on the other she dreaded so heartrending a sight. At length They looked at each other. The Son wiped from His eyes the clotted Blood, which, as it was revealed to St. Bridget, prevented Him from seeing, and looked at His Mother, and the Mother looked at her Son. Ah, looks of bitter grief, which, as so many arrows, pierced through and through those two beautiful and loving souls. 

When Margaret, the daughter of Sir Thomas More, met her father on his way to death, she could only exclaim, "O father! father!" and fell fainting at his feet. Mary, at the sight of her Son, on His way to Calvary, did not faint; no, for it was not becoming, as Father Suarez remarks, that this Mother should lose the use of her reason; nor did she die, for God reserved her for greater grief; but though she did not die, her sorrow was enough to have caused her a thousand deaths. 

The Mother would have embraced Him, as St. Anselm says, but the guards thrust her aside with insults, and urged forward the suffering Lord; and Mary followed Him. Ah, holy Virgin, whither goest thou? To Calvary. And canst thou trust thyself to behold Him Who is thy life, hanging on a Cross? And thy life shall be, as it were, hanging before thee. [Deut. xxviii. 66] "Ah, stop, my mother" (says St. Laurence Justinian, in the name of the Son) "where goest thou? Where wouldst thou come? If thou comest whither I go, thou wilt be tortured with My sufferings, and I with thine."  But although the sight of her dying Jesus was to cost her so bitter sorrow, the loving Mary will not leave Him: the Son advanced, and the Mother followed, to be also crucified with her Son, as the Abbot William says: "the Mother also look up her cross and followed, to be crucified with Him."

"We even pity wild beasts,'" as St. John Chrysostom writes; and did we see a lioness following her cub to death, the sight would move us to compassion. And shall we not also be moved to compassion on seeing Mary follow her immaculate Lamb to death? Let us, then, pity her, and let us also accompany her Son and herself, by bearing with patience the cross that our Lord imposes on us. St. John Chrysostom asks why Jesus Christ, in His other sufferings, was pleased to endure them alone, but in carrying His Cross was assisted by the Cyrenean? He replies, that it was "that thou mayest understand that the cross of Christ is not sufficient without thine." 

EXAMPLE

Our Saviour one day appeared to Sister Diomira, a nun in Florence, and said, "Think of Me and love Me, and I will think of thee and love thee." At the same time He presented her with a bunch of flowers and a cross, signifying thereby that the consolations of the Saints in this world are always to be accompanied by the cross. The cross unites souls to God. Blessed Jerome Emiliani, when a soldier, and loaded with sins, was shut up by his enemies in a tower. There, moved by his misfortunes, and enlightened by God to change his life, he had recourse to the ever-blessed Virgin; and from that time, by the help of this Divine Mother, he began to lead the life of a Saint, so much so that he merited once to see the very high place that God had prepared for Him in Heaven. He became the founder of the religious Order of the Somaschi, died as a Saint, and has lately been canonized by the holy Church. 

Prayer

My sorrowful Mother, by the merit of that grief which thou didst feel in seeing thy beloved Jesus led to death, obtain me the grace, that I also may bear with patience the crosses which God sends me. Happy indeed shall I be, if I only know how to accompany thee with my cross until death. Thou with thy Jesus---and You were both innocent---hast carried a far heavier cross; and shall I, a sinner, who have deserved Hell, refuse to carry mine? Ah, immaculate Virgin, from thee do I hope for help to bear all crosses with patience. Amen. 

by Saint Alphonsus de Liguori

Photo Credit Waiting for the Word

The Loss of Jesus in the Temple

The Loss of Jesus in the Temple

The Apostle St. James says that our perfection consists in the virtue of patience. And patience hath a perfect work, that you may be perfect and entire, failing in nothing. [James i. 4] Our Lord having, then, given us the Blessed Virgin Mary as a model of perfection, it was necessary that she should be laden with sorrows, that in her we might admire heroic patience, and endeavor to imitate it. The sorrow which we have this day to consider was one of the greatest that Mary had to endure in her life,---the loss of her Son in the temple.

He who is born blind feels but little the privation of the light of day; but he who has once enjoyed it, and loses it by becoming blind, indeed suffers much, Thus it is also with those unhappy souls who, blinded by the mire of the world, have but little knowledge of God---they suffer but little at not finding Him; but, on the other hand, he who, illumined by celestial light, has become worthy to find by love the sweet presence of the supreme good, O God, how bitterly does he grieve when he finds himself deprived of it! Hence, let us see how much Mary must have suffered from this third sword of sorrow which pierced her heart, when, having lost her Jesus in Jerusalem for three days, she was deprived of His most sweet presence, accustomed as she was constantly to enjoy it. 

St. Luke relates, in the second chapter of his Gospel, that the Blessed Virgin, with her spouse St. Joseph, and Jesus, was accustomed every year at the paschal solemnity to visit the temple. When her Son was twelve years of age, she went as usual, and Jesus remained in Jerusalem. Mary did not at once perceive it, thinking He was in company with others. When she reached Nazareth, she inquired for her Son; but not finding Him, she immediately returned to Jerusalem to seek for Him, and only found Him after three days. 

Now let us imagine what anxiety this afflicted Mother must have experienced in those three days during which she was seeking everywhere for her Son, and inquiring for Him with the spouse in the Canticles: Have you seen Him whom my soul loveth? [Cant. iii. 3] But she could have no tidings of Him. O, with how far greater tenderness must Mary, overcome by fatigue, and having not yet found her beloved Son, have repeated those words of Ruben, concerning his brother Joseph: The boy doth not appear and whither shall I go? [Gen xxvii. 30]"My Jesus doth not appear, and I no longer know what to do to find Him; but where shall I go without my treasure?" Weeping continually, with how much truth did she repeat with David, during those three days, My tears have been my bread day and night whilst it is said to me daily: Where is thy God? [Ps. xli. 4] Wherefore Pelbart, with reason, says, that "during those nights the afflicted Mary did not sleep; she was constantly weeping, and entreating God that He would enable her to find her Son." Frequently, during that time, according to St. Bernard, she addresses her Son in the words of the spouse in the Canticles: Show me where Thou feedest, where thou liest in the midday, lest I begin to wander. [Cant. i. 6]My Son, tell me where Thou art, that I may no longer wander, seeking Thee in vain. 

There are some who assert, and not without reason, that this dolor was not only one of the greatest, but the greatest and most painful of all. 

For, in the first place, Mary, in her other dolors, had Jesus with her: she suffered when St. Simeon prophesied to her in the temple; she suffered in the flight into Egypt; but still in company with Jesus; but in this dolor she suffered far from Jesus, not knowing where He was: And the light of my eyes itself is not with me. [Ps. xxxvii. 11] Thus weeping she then said, "Ah, the light of my eyes, my dear Jesus, is no longer with me; He is far from me, and I know not whither He is gone? Origen says that through the love which this holy Mother bore her Son, "she suffered more in this loss of Jesus than any Martyr ever suffered in the separation of his soul from his body." Ah, too long indeed were those three days for Mary; they seemed three ages; they were all bitterness, for there was none to comfort her. And who can ever comfort me, she said with Jeremias, who can console me, since He Who could alone do so is far from me? And therefore my eyes can never weep enough: Therefore do I weep, and my eyes run down with water: because the Comforter ... is far from me. [Lam. i. 16] And with Tobias she repeated, What manner of joy shall be to me who sit in darkness and see not the light of Heaven? [Tob. v. 12] 

In the second place, Mary, in all her other sorrows, well understood their cause---the redemption of the world, the Divine will; but in this she knew not the cause of the absence of her Son. "The sorrowful Mother," says Lanspergius, "was grieved at the absence of Jesus, because, in her humility, she considered herself unworthy to remain longer with or to attend upon Him on earth, and have the charge of so great a treasure." "And who knows," perhaps she thought within herself, "maybe I have not served Him as I ought; perhaps I have been guilty of some negligence, for which He has left me." "They sought Him," says Origen, "lest perchance He had entirely left them." It is certain that, to a soul that loves God, there can be no greater pain than the fear of having displeased Him. Therefore in this sorrow alone did Mary complain, lovingly expostulating with Jesus, after she had found Him; Son, why hast Thou done so to us? Thy father and I have sought Thee sorrowing. [Luke ii. 48] By these words she had no idea of reproving Jesus, as heretics blasphemously assert, but only meant to express to Him the grief proceeding from the great love she bore Him which she had experienced during His absence: "It was not a rebuke," says Denis the Carthusian, "but a loving complaint." 

This sorrow of Mary ought, in the first place, to serve as a consolation to those souls who are desolate, and no longer enjoy, as they once enjoyed, the sweet presence of their Lord. They may weep, but they should weep in peace, as Mary wept over the absence of her Son; and let them take courage and not fear that on this account they have lost the Divine favor; for God Himself assured St. Teresa, that "no one is lost without knowing it; and that no one is deceived without, wishing to be deceived." If our Lord withdraws Himself from the sight of a soul that loves Him, He does not, therefore, depart from the heart; He often conceals Himself from a soul, that it may seek Him with a more ardent desire and greater love. But whoever wishes to find Jesus, must seek Him, not amidst delights and the pleasures of the world, but amidst crosses and mortifications, as Mary sought Him. We sought Thee sorrowing, as Mary said to her Son. "Learn, then, from Mary," says Origen, "to seek Jesus." 

Moreover, in this world she would seek no other good than Jesus. Job was not unhappy when he lost all that he possessed on earth: riches, children, health, and honors, and even descended from a throne to a dunghill; but because he had God with him, he was even then happy. St. Augustine says, "he had lost what God had given him, but he still had God Himself."  Truly miserable and unhappy are those souls that have lost God. If Mary wept the absence of her Son for three days, how should sinners weep, who have lost Divine grace, and to whom God says: You are not my people, and I will not be yours. [Os. i. 9] For this is the effect of sin; it separates the soul from God: Your iniquities have divided between you and your God. [Is. lix. 2] Hence, if sinners possess all the riches of the earth, but have lost God, all, even in this world, becomes vanity and affliction to them, as Solomon confessed:Behold, all is vanity and vexation of spirit. [Eccles. i. 14] But the greatest misfortune of these poor blind souls is, as St. Augustine observes, that "if they lose an ox, they do not fail to go in search of it; if they lose a sheep, they use all diligence to find it; if they lose a beast of burden, they cannot rest; but when they lose their God, Who is the supreme good, they eat, drink, and repose." 

EXAMPLE

Saint Benvenuta once asked the Blessed Virgin for the grace to share the pain the Mother of Christ felt at the loss of her Divine Son. Mary appeared to her with the Divine Child in her arms. At the sight of the beautiful Babe St. Benvenuta fell into an ecstasy but the vision suddenly disappeared: The pain thus occasioned to the Saint was so great that she besought Mary to help her lest she die of grief. After three days the Blessed Virgin appeared again and said to her: "My daughter, your suffering is only a small part of that which I endured at the loss of my Divine Son."

Prayer

O Blessed Virgin, why dost thou afflict thyself, seeking for thy lost Son? Is it that thou knowest not where He is? Knowest thou not that He is in thy heart? Art thou ignorant that He feeds amongst lilies? Thou thyself hast said it: My Beloved to me, and I to Him, Who feedeth among the lilies. [Cant. ii. 16] These, thy thoughts and affections, which are all humble, pure, and holy, are all lilies which invite thy Divine Spouse to dwell in thee. Ah, Mary, dost thou sigh after Jesus, thou who lovest none but Jesus? Leave sighs to me, and to so many sinners who love Him not, and who have lost Him by offending Him. My most amiable Mother, if through my fault thy Son is not yet returned to my soul, do thou obtain for me that I may find Him. I well know that He is found by those who seek Him: The Lord is good to the soul that seeketh Him. [Lam. iii. 25] But do thou make me seek Him as I ought. Thou art the gate through which all find Jesus; through thee I also hope to find Him. Amen.

by Saint Alphonsus de Liguori
Photo taken from Wikimedia Commons

The Flight of Jesus into Egypt

The Flight of Jesus into Egypt

As the stag, wounded by an arrow, carries the pain with him wherever he goes, because he carries with him the arrow which has wounded him, so did the Divine Mother, after the sad prophecy of St. Simeon, as we have already seen in the consideration of the first dolor, always carry her sorrow with her in the continual remembrance of the Passion of her Son. Hailgrino, explaining this passage of the Canticles, The hairs of thy head, as the purple of the king, bound in the channel, [Cant. vii. 5] says that these purple hairs were Mary's continual thoughts of the Passion of Jesus, which kept the Blood which was one day to flow from His wounds always before her eyes: "Thy mind, O Mary, and thy thoughts, steeped in the Blood of our Lord's Passion, were always filled with sorrow, as if they actually beheld the Blood flowing from His wounds." Thus her Son Himself was that arrow in the heart of Mary; and the more amiable He appeared to her, so much the more deeply did the thought of losing Him by so cruel a death wound her heart. 

Let us now consider the second sword of sorrow which wounded Mary, in the flight of her Infant Jesus into Egypt from the persecution of Herod. 

Herod, having heard that the expected Messiah was born, foolishly feared that He would deprive him of his kingdom. Hence St. Fulgentius, reproving him for his folly, thus addresses him: "Why art thou troubled, O Herod? This King Who is born comes not to conquer kings by the sword, but to subjugate them wonderfully by His death." The impious Herod, therefore, waited to hear from the holy Magi where the King was born, that he might take His life; but finding himself deceived, he ordered all the infants that could be found in the neighborhood of Bethlehem to be put to death. Then it was that the Angel appeared in a dream to St. Joseph, and desired him to Arise, and take the Child and His Mother, and fly into Egypt. [Matt. ii. 13] According to Gerson," St. Joseph immediately, on that very night, made the order known to Mary; and taking the Infant Jesus, they set out on their journey, as it is sufficiently evident from the Gospel itself: Who arose and took the Child and His Mother, by night, and retired into Egypt.
 
  O God, says Blessed Albert the Great, in the name of Mary, "must He then fly from men, Who came to save men?" Then the afflicted Mother knew that already the prophecy of Simeon concerning her Son began to be verified: He is set for a sign that shall be contradicted. Seeing that He was no sooner born than He was persecuted unto death, what anguish, writes St. John Chrysostom, must the intimation of that cruel exile of herself and her Son have caused in her heart: "Flee from thy friends to strangers, from God's temple to the temples of devils. What greater tribulation than that a newborn child, hanging from its mother's breast, and she too in poverty, should with Him be forced to fly?" 

Anyone may imagine what Mary must have suffered on this journey. To Egypt the distance was great. Most authors agree that it was three hundred miles; so that it was a journey of upwards of thirty days. The road was, according to St. Bonaventure's description of it, "rough, unknown, and little frequented." It was in the winter season; so that they had to travel in snow, rain, and wind, through rough and dirty roads. Mary was then fifteen years of age---a delicate young woman, unaccustomed to such journeys. They had no one to attend upon them. St. Peter Chrysologus says, "Joseph and Mary have no male or female servants; they were themselves both masters and servants." O God, what a touching sight must it have been to have beheld that tender Virgin, with her newborn babe in her arms, wandering through the world! "But how," asks St. Bonaventure, "did They obtain their food? Where did They repose at night? How were They lodged?" What can they have eaten but a piece of hard bread, either brought by St. Joseph or begged as an alms? Where can They have slept on such a road (especially on the two hundred miles of desert, where there were neither houses nor inns, as authors relate), unless on the sand or under a tree in a wood, exposed to the air and the dangers of robbers and wild beasts, with which Egypt abounded? Ah, had anyone met these three greatest personages in the world, for Whom could he have taken them but for poor wandering beggars? 

They resided in Egypt, according to Brocard and Jansenius, in a district called Maturea; though St. Anselm says that They lived in the city of Heliopolis, or at Memphis, now called old Cairo. Here let us consider the great poverty They must have suffered during the seven years which, according to St. Antoninus, St. Thomas, and others, They spent there. They were foreigners, unknown, without revenues, money, or relatives, barely able to support Themselves by their humble efforts. "As They were destitute," says St. Basil, "it is evident that They must have labored much to provide Themselves with the necessaries of life." Landolph of Saxony has, moreover, written (and let this be a consolation for the poor), that "Mary lived there in the midst of such poverty that at times she had not even a bit of bread to give to her Son, when, urged by hunger, He asked for it."

After the death of Herod, St. Matthew relates, the Angel again appeared to St. Joseph in a dream, and directed Them to return to Judea. St. Bonaventure, speaking of this return, considers how much greater the Blessed Virgin's sufferings must have been on account of the pains of Jesus being so much increased, as He was then about seven years of age---an age, remarks the Saint, at which "He was too big to be carried, and not strong enough to walk without assistance." 

The sight, then, of Jesus and Mary wandering as fugitives through the world, teaches us that we also must live as pilgrims here below; detached from the goods which the world offers us, and which we must soon leave to enter eternity: We have not here a lasting city, but seek one that is to come. [Heb. xiii. 14] To which St. Augustine adds: "Thou art a guest: thou givest a look, and passest on." It also teaches us to embrace crosses, for without them we cannot live in this world. Blessed Veronica da Binasco, an Augustinian nun, was carried in spirit to accompany Mary with the Infant Jesus on Their journey into Egypt; and after it the Divine Mother said, "Daughter, thou hast seen with how much difficulty We have reached this country; now learn that no one receives graces without suffering." Whoever wishes to feel less the sufferings of this life must go in company with Jesus and Mary: "Take the Child and His Mother." 

All sufferings become light, and even sweet and desirable, to him who by his love bears this Son and this Mother in his heart. Let us, then, love them; let us console Mary by welcoming in our hearts her Son, Whom men even now continue to persecute by their sins. 

EXAMPLE

The most holy Virgin one day appeared to Blessed Collette, a Franciscan nun, and showed her the Infant Jesus in a basin, torn to pieces, and then said: "Thus it is that sinners continually treat my Son, renewing His death and my sorrows. My daughter, pray for them, that they may be converted." To this we may add another vision, which the Venerable Sister Joanna of Jesus and Mary, also a Franciscan nun, had. She was one day meditating on the infant Jesus persecuted by Herod, when she heard a great noise, as of armed men pursuing someone; and immediately she saw before her a most beautiful Child, Who, all out of breath and running, exclaimed: "O My Joanna, help Me, conceal Me! I am Jesus of Nazareth; I am flying from sinners, who wish to kill Me, and persecute Me as Herod did. Do thou save Me." 

Prayer

Then, O Mary, even after thy Son hath died by the hands of men, who persecuted Him unto death, these ungrateful men have not yet ceased persecuting Him by their sins, and continue to afflict thee, O sorrowful Mother! And, O God, I also have been one of these. Ah, my most sweet Mother, obtain me tears to weep over such ingratitude. By the sufferings thou didst endure in that journey to Egypt, assist me in the journey in which I am now making to eternity; that thus I may at length be united to thee in loving my persecuted Saviour in the kingdom of the blessed. Amen.

by Saint Alphonsus de Liguori
Photo taken from Wikimedia Commons

Saint Simeon's Prophecy

Saint Simeon's Prophecy

IN this valley of tears every man is born to weep, and all must suffer, by enduring the evils which are of daily occurrence. But how much greater would the misery of life be, did we also know the future evils which await us! "Unfortunate, indeed, would his lot be," says Seneca, "who, knowing the future, would have to suffer all by anticipation." 

Our Lord shows us this mercy. He conceals the trials which await us, that, whatever they may be, we may endure them but once. He did not show Mary this compassion; for she, whom God willed to be the Queen of Sorrows, and in all things like His Son, had to see always before her eyes and continually to suffer all the torments that awaited her; and these were the sufferings of the Passion and death of her beloved Jesus; for in the temple, St. Simeon, having received the Divine Child in his arms, foretold to her that that Son would be a mark for all the persecutions and oppositions of men. Behold, this Child is set ... for a sign which shall be contradicted. And therefore, that a sword of sorrow should pierce her soul: And thy own soul a sword shall pierce. [Luke, ii. 34, 35] 

The Blessed Virgin herself told St. Matilda, that, on this announcement of St. Simeon, "all her joy was changed into sorrow." For, as it was revealed to St. Teresa, though the Blessed Mother already knew that the life of her Son would be sacrificed for the salvation of the world, yet she then learnt more distinctly and in greater detail the sufferings and cruel death that awaited her poor Son. She knew that He would be contradicted, and this in everything: contradicted in His doctrines; for, instead of being believed, He would be esteemed a blasphemer for teaching that He was the Son of God; this He was declared to be by the impious Caiphas, saying, He hath blasphemed, He is guilty of death. [Matt. xxvi. 65] Contradicted in His reputation; for He was of noble, even of royal descent, and was despised as a peasant: Is not this the carpenter's son? [Matt. xiii. 55] Is not this the carpenter, the son of Mary? [Mark vi. 3] He was wisdom itself, and was treated as ignorant: How doth this man know letters, having never learned? [John vii. 15] As a false prophet: And they blindfolded Him, and smote His face ... saying: Prophesy, who is it that struck Thee? [Luke xxii. 64] He was treated as a madman: He is mad, why hear you Him? [John x. 20] As a drunkard, a glutton, and a friend of sinners: Behold a man that is a glutton, and a drinker of wine, a friend of publicans and sinners. [Luke vii. 34] As a sorcerer: By the prince of devils He casteth out devils. [Matt. ix. 34] As a heretic, and possessed by the evil spirit: Do we not say well of Thee that Thou art a Samaritan and hast a devil? [John viii. 48] In a word, Jesus was considered so notoriously wicked, that, as the Jews said to Pilate, no trial was necessary to condemn Him. If He were not a malefactor, we would not have delivered Him up to thee. [John xviii. 30] He was contradicted in His very soul; for even His Eternal Father, to give place to Divine justice, contradicted Him, by refusing to hear His prayer, when He said,Father, if it be possible, let this chalice pass from Me; [Matt. xxvi. 39] and abandoned Him to fear, weariness, and sadness; so that our afflicted Lord exclaimed, My soul is sorrowful unto death [Ibid. 38] and His interior sufferings even caused Him to sweat Blood. Contradicted and persecuted, in fine, in all His Body and in His life; for He was tortured in all His sacred members, in His hands, His feet, His face, His head, and in His whole Body; so that, drained of His Blood, and an object of scorn, He died of torments on an ignominious Cross. 

When David, in the midst of all his pleasures and regal grandeur, heard from the Prophet Nathan, that his son should die,-----The child that is born to thee shall surely die, [2 Kings xii. 14]---he could find no peace, but wept, fasted, and slept on the ground. Mary with the greatest calmness received the announcement that her Son should die, and always peacefully submitted to it; but what grief must she continually have suffered, seeing this amiable Son always near her, hearing from Him words of eternal life, and witnessing His holy demeanor! 

Abraham suffered much during the three days he passed with his beloved Isaac, after knowing that he was to lose him. O God, not for three days, but for three and thirty years had Mary to endure a like sorrow ! But do I say a like sorrow? It was as much greater as the Son of Mary was more lovely than the son of Abraham. 

The Blessed Virgin herself revealed to St. Bridget, that, while on earth, there was not an hour in which this grief did not pierce her soul: "as often," she continued, "as I looked at my Son, as often as I wrapped Him in His swaddling-clothes, as often as I saw His hands and feet, so often was my soul absorbed, so to say, in fresh grief; for I thought how He would be crucified." 

The Abbot Rupert contemplates Mary suckling her Son, and thus addressing Him: A bundle of myrrh is my Beloved to me; He shall abide between my breasts. [Cant. i. 12] Ah, Son, I clasp Thee in my arms, because Thou art so dear to me; but the dearer Thou art to me, the more dost Thou become a bundle of myrrh and sorrow to me when I think of Thy sufferings. " Mary," says St. Bernardine of Sienna, "reflected that the strength of the Saints was to be reduced to agony; the beauty of Paradise to be disfigured; the Lord of the world to be bound as a criminal; the Creator of all things to be made livid with blows; the Judge of all to be condemned; the Glory of Heaven despised; the King of kings to be crowned with thorns, and treated as a mock king."
 
Father Engelgrave says that it was revealed to the same St. Bridget, that the afflicted Mother, already knowing what her Son was to suffer, when suckling Him, thought of the gall and vinegar; when swathing Him, of the cords with which He was to be bound; when bearing Him in her arms, of the Cross to which He was to be nailed; when sleeping, of His death." As often as she put on Him His garment, she reflected that it would one day be torn from Him, that He might be crucified; and when she beheld His sacred hands and feet, she thought of the nails which would one day pierce them; and then, as Mary said to St. Bridget, "my eyes filled with tears, and my heart was tortured with grief." 

The Evangelist says, that as Jesus Christ advanced in years, so also did He advance in wisdom and in grace with God and men. [Luke ii. 52] This is to be understood as St. Thomas explains it, that He advanced in wisdom and grace in the estimation of men and before God, inasmuch as all His works would continually have availed to increase His merit, had not grace been conferred upon Him from the beginning, in its complete fullness, by virtue of the hypostatic union. But, since Jesus advanced in the love and esteem of others, how much more must He have advanced in that of Mary! But, O God, as love increased in her, so much the more did her grief increase at the thought of having to lose Him by so cruel a death; and the nearer the time of the Passion of her Son approached, so much the deeper did that sword of sorrow, foretold by St. Simeon, pierce the heart of His mother. This was precisely revealed by the Angel to St. Bridget, saying: "That sword of sorrow was every hour approaching nearer to the Blessed Virgin, as the time for the Passion of her Son drew near." 

Since, then, Jesus, our King, and His most holy Mother, did not refuse, for love of us, to suffer so cruel pains throughout their lives, it is reasonable that we, at least, should not complain if we have to suffer something. Jesus, crucified, once appeared to Sister Magdalene Orsini, a Dominicaness, who had been long suffering under a great trial, and encouraged her to remain, by means of that affliction, with Him on the Cross. Sister Magdalene complainingly answered: "O Lord, Thou wast tortured on the Cross only for three hours, and I have endured my pain for many years." The Redeemer then replied: "Ah, ignorant soul, what dost thou say? From the first moment of My conception I suffered in heart all that I afterwards endured dying on the Cross." If, then, we also suffer and complain, let us imagine Jesus, and His Mother Mary, addressing the same words to ourselves. 

EXAMPLE

Father Roviglione, of the Society of Jesus, relates that a young man had the devotion of every day visiting a statue of our Lady of Sorrows, in which she was represented with seven swords piercing her heart. The unfortunate youth one night committed a mortal sin. The next morning, going as usual to visit the image, he perceived that there were no longer only seven, but eight swords in the heart of Mary. Wondering at this; he heard a voice telling him that his crime had added the eighth. This moved his heart; and, penetrated with sorrow, he immediately went to Confession, and by the intercession of his advocate recovered Divine grace. 

Prayer

Ah, my Blessed Mother, it is not one sword only with which I have pierced thy heart, but I have done so with as many as are the sins which I have committed. Ah, Lady, it is not to thee, who art innocent, that sufferings are due, but to me, who am guilty of so many crimes. But since thou hast been pleased to suffer so much for me, ah, by thy merits, obtain me great sorrow for my sins, and patience under the trials of this life, which will always be light in comparison with my demerits; for I have often deserved Hell. Amen.

by Alphonsus de Liguori 
Photo Credit Waiting for the Word