Different images of Mary speak to me at different times in my life.
There are the happy images—the young virgin expectantly receiving the news that she’ll be the Mother of God and the joyful mother cradling Baby Jesus beside a manger.
Then there are the sad and heavy images—the weeping mother looking up at her Son as he dies on the crucifix and the grieving mother holding him in her arms in the Pieta.
When I pray the Rosary, I usually just want to focus on the Joyful mysteries. But there are times when the Sorrowful mysteries are the ones that speak most to my heart. There are days when it’s comforting to know that the holiest woman to walk the earth, the woman chosen by God to be the mother of His Son, truly understood sorrow and grief and sadness. There’s no grief we can bring to her that she doesn’t understand.
Maybe that’s why I love the Feast of Our Lady of Sorrows—and I appreciate it more and more over time.
Mary suffered. She might not have experienced the physical pain her Son endured, but she must have experienced tremendous emotional pain through what we call the seven sorrows—the prophecy of Simeon, the flight into Egypt, the loss of the Child Jesus before finding him in the temple, meeting Jesus on the way to Calvary, His crucifixion and death, Jesus’ body being taken down from the cross, and His burial.
Mary accompanied her Son through those difficult times, even when others He loved were abandoning him. She experienced so much pain, so much loss. And she carried on with faith and love and hope in everlasting life. In fact, even in those images of the Annunciation and the Nativity, Mary is not always seen as rejoicing, but more as contemplating, recognizing the sorrows that lay ahead even amidst the happiness.
A mother who has experienced that journey knows how to walk with each of us, even through times of desolation and sadness.
I think of that on days when it seems this pandemic will always be with us, when there seems to be suffering happening in so many parts of the world, and when I consistently seem to encounter unproductive disagreement and division.
Whenever I look at this painting, I think back to the first years of our marriage, when we were members of Our Mother of Sorrows parish in Centreville, Md. As we began to realize we were on an infertility journey, I looked at this image hanging in the church and talked to Mary about what was on my heart. It seemed to me that Mary understood.
There is no sorrow, no sadness, no difficulty in the world that is too big for our Blessed Mother to take to Jesus and ask Him to solve. So, why not take whatever is piercing your heart today, and turn it over to our Mother in Heaven?
Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with thee. Blessed art thou among women, and blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus.
Holy Mary, mother of God, pray for us sinners, now and at the hour of our death. Amen.
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