Hear the words of Our Blessed Mother, Our Lady of Guadalupe



Know for certain, smallest of my children, that I am the perfect and perpetual Virgin Mary, Mother of the True God through whom everything lives, the Lord of all things near and far, the Master of heaven and earth. I am your merciful Mother, the merciful Mother of all of you who live united in this land, and of all humanity, of all those who love me. Hear and let it penetrate your heart, my dear little one. Let nothing discourage you, nothing depress you. Let nothing alter your heart, or your face. Am I not here who am your mother? Are you not under my shadow and protection? Am I not your fountain of life? Are you not in the folds of my mantle? In the crossing of my arms? Is there anything else that you need? Do not fear any illness or vexation, anxiety or pain.

Wednesday, August 31, 2011

The Dolors of Mary as taken from The Glories of Mary by St. Alphonsus Liguori - The First Dolor



On The First Dolor: Of 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 Saint 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."

The Blessed Virgin herself told Saint Mechtilde, that, on this announcement of Saint Simeon, "all her joy was changed into sorrow." For, as it was revealed to Saint 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." 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?" "Is not this the carpenter, the son of Mary?" He was wisdom itself, and was treated as ignorant: "How doth this man know letters, having never learned?" As a false prophet: "And they blindfolded Him, and smote His face . . . saying: Prophesy, who is it that struck Thee?" He was treated as a madman: "He is mad, why hear you Him?" 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." As a sorcerer: "By the prince of devils He casteth out devils." 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?" 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." 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;" and abandoned Him to fear, weariness, and sadness; so that our afflicted Lord exclaimed, "My soul is sorrowful unto death!" and His interior sufferings even caused Him to sweat blood. Contradicted and persecuted, in fine, in 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"-he could kind 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 Saint 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 nursing her Son, and thus addressing Him: "A bundle of myrrh is my Beloved to me; He shall abide between my breasts." 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 Saint 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 Saint Bridget, that the afflicted Mother, already knowing what her Son was to suffer, "when nursing 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 Saint 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." This is to be understood as Saint 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, in 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 Saint Simeon, pierce the heart of His Mother. This was precisely revealed by the angel to Saint 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 such 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 Magdalen 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 Magdalen 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.

Tuesday, August 30, 2011

The Dolors of Mary as taken from The Glories of Mary by St. Alphonsus Liguori - Introduction



The Dolors of Mary as taken from The Glories of Mary by St. Alphonsus Liguori

Introduction

Mary was the Queen of Martyrs, for her martyrdom was longer and greater than that of all the Martyrs.

Who can ever have a heart so hard that it will not melt on hearing the most lamentable event which once occurred in the world? There was a noble and holy Mother Who had an only Son. This Son was the most amiable that can be imagined-innocent, virtuous, beautiful, Who loved His Mother most tenderly; so much so that He had never caused her the least displeasure, but had ever shown her all respect, obedience, and affection: hence this Mother had placed all her affections on earth in this Son. Hear, then, what happened. This Son, through envy, was falsely accused by His enemies; and though the judge knew, and himself confessed, that He was innocent, yet, that he might not offend His enemies, he condemned Him to the ignominious death that they had demanded. This poor Mother had to suffer the grief of seeing that amiable and beloved Son unjustly snatched from her in the flower of His age by a barbarous death; for, by dint of torments and drained of all His blood, He was made to die on an infamous gibbet in a public place of execution, and this before her own eyes.

Devout souls, what say you? Is not this event, and is not this unhappy Mother worthy of compassion. You already understand of whom I speak. This Son, so cruelly executed, was our loving Redeemer Jesus; and this Mother was the Blessed Virgin Mary, who, for the love she bore us, was willing to see Him sacrificed to Divine Justice by the barbarity of men. This great torment, then, which Mary endured for us-a torment which was more than a thousand deaths deserves both our compassion and our gratitude. If we can make no other return for so much love, at least let us give a few moments this day to consider the greatness of the sufferings by which Mary became the Queen of martyrs; for the sufferings of her great martyrdom exceeded those of all the martyrs; being, in the first place, the longest in point of duration; and, in the second place, the greatest in point of intensity.

I. As Jesus is called the King of sorrows and the King of martyrs, because He suffered during His life more than all other martyrs; so also is Mary with reason called the Queen of martyrs, having merited this title by suffering the most cruel martyrdom possible after that of her Son. Hence, with reason, was she called by Richard of Saint Lawrence, "the Martyr of martyrs"; and of her can the words of Isaias with all truth be said, "He will crown thee with a crown of tribulation;" that is to say, that that suffering itself, which exceeded the suffering of all the other martyrs united, was the crown by which she was shown to be the Queen of martyrs. That Mary was a true martyr cannot be doubted, as Denis the Carthusian, Pelbart, Catharinus, and others prove; for it is an undoubted opinion that suffering sufficient to cause death is martyrdom, even though death does not ensue from it. Saint John the Evangelist is revered as a martyr, though he did not die in the caldron of boiling oil, but came out more vigorous than he went in. Saint Thomas says, "that to have the glory of martyrdom, it is sufficient to exercise obedience in its highest degree, that is to say, to be obedient unto death." "Mary was a martyr," says Saint Bernard, "not by the sword of the executioner, but by bitter sorrow of heart." If her body was not wounded by the hand of the executioner, her blessed heart was transfixed by a sword of grief at the passion of her Son; grief which was sufficient to have caused her death, not once, but a thousand times. From this we shall see that Mary was not only a real martyr, but that her martyrdom surpassed all others; for it was longer than that of all others, and her whole life may be said to have been a prolonged death.

"The passion of Jesus," as Saint Bernard says, "commenced with His birth." So also did Mary, in all things like unto her Son, endure her martyrdom throughout her life. Amongst other significations of the name of Mary, as Saint Albert the Great asserts, is that of "a bitter sea." Hence to her is applicable the text of Jeremias: "great as the sea is thy destruction." For as the sea is all bitter and salt, so also was the life of Mary always full of bitterness at the sight of the Passion of the Redeemer, which was ever present to her mind. "There can be no doubt, that, enlightened by the Holy Ghost in a far higher degree than all the prophets, she, far better than they, understood the predictions recorded by them in the sacred Scriptures concerning the Messias." This is precisely what the angel revealed to St. Bridget; and he also added, "that the Blessed Virgin, even before she became His Mother, knowing how much the Incarnate Word was to suffer for the salvation of men, and compassionating this innocent Savior, who was to be so cruelly put to death for crimes not His own, even then began her great martyrdom."

Her grief was immeasurably increased when she became the Mother of this Savior; so that at the sad sight of the many torments which were to be endured by her poor Son, she indeed suffered a long martyrdom, a martyrdom which lasted her whole life. This was signified with great exactitude to Saint Bridget in a vision which she had in Rome, in the church of Saint Mary Major, where the Blessed Virgin with Saint Simeon, and an angel bearing a very long sword, reddened with blood, appeared to her, denoting thereby the long, and bitter grief which transpierced the heart of Mary during her whole life. Whence the above named Rupert supposes Mary thus speaking: "Redeemed souls, and my beloved children, do not pity me only for the hour in which I beheld my dear Jesus expiring before my eyes; for the sword of sorrow predicted by Simeon pierced my soul during the whole of my life: when I was nursing my Son, when I was warming Him in my arms, I already foresaw the bitter death that awaited Him. Consider, then, what long and bitter sorrows I must have endured."

Wherefore Mary might well say, in the words of David, "My life is wasted with grief, and my years in sighs." "My sorrow is continually before me." "My whole life was spent in sorrow and in tears; for my sorrow, which was compassion for my beloved Son, never departed from before my eyes, as I always foresaw the sufferings and death which He was one day to endure." The Divine Mother herself revealed to Saint Bridget, that "even after the death and ascension of her Son, whether she ate, or worked, the remembrance of His Passion was ever deeply impressed on her mind, and fresh in her tender heart." Hence Tauler says, "that the most Blessed Virgin spent her whole life in continual sorrow;" for her heart was always occupied with sadness and with suffering.

Therefore time, which usually mitigates the sorrows of the afflicted, did not relieve Mary; nay, it even increased her sorrow; for, as Jesus, on the one hand, advanced in age, and always appeared more and more beautiful and amiable; so also, on the other hand, the time of His death always drew nearer, and grief always increased in the heart of Mary, at the thought of having to lose Him on earth. So that, in the words addressed by the angel to Saint Bridget: "As the rose grows up amongst thorns, so the Mother of God advanced in years in the midst of sufferings; and as the thorns increase with the growth of the rose, so also did the thorns of her sorrows increase in Mary, the chosen rose of the Lord, as she advanced in age; and so much the more deeply did they pierce her heart. Having now considered the length of this sorrow in point of duration, let us pass to the second point-its greatness in point of intensity.

II. Ah, Mary was not only Queen of martyrs because her martyrdom, was longer than that of all others, but also because it was the greatest of all martyrdoms. Who, however, can measure its greatness? Jeremias seems unable to find any one with whom he can compare this Mother of Sorrows, when he considers her great sufferings at the death of her Son. "To what shall I compare thee or to what shall I liken thee, O daughter of Jerusalem... for great as the sea is thy destruction: who shall heal thee?" Wherefore Cardinal Hugo, in a commentary on these words, says, "O Blessed Virgin, as the sea in bitterness exceeds all other bitterness, so does thy grief exceed all other grief. Hence Saint Anselm asserts, that "had not God by a special miracle preserved the life of Mary in each moment of her life, her grief was such that it would have caused her death. Saint Bernardine of Siena goes so far as to say, "that the grief of Mary was so great that, were it divided amongst all men, it would suffice to cause their immediate death. But let us consider the reasons for which Mary's martyrdom was greater than that of all martyrs. In the first place, we must remember that the martyrs endured their torments, which were the effect of fire and other material agencies, in their bodies; Mary suffered hers in her soul, as Saint Simeon foretold: "And thy own soul a sword shall pierce." As if the holy old man had said: "O most sacred Virgin, the bodies of other martyrs will be torn with iron, but thou wilt be transfixed, and martyred in thy soul by the Passion of thine own Son." Now, as the soul is more noble than the body, so much greater were Mary's sufferings than those of all the martyrs, as Jesus Christ Himself said to Saint Catherine of Siena: "Between the sufferings of the soul and those of the body there is no comparison." Whence the holy Abbot Arnold of Chartres says, "that whoever had been present on Mount Calvary, to witness the great sacrifice of the Immaculate Lamb, would there have beheld two great altars, the one in the body of Jesus, the other in the heart of Mary; for, on that mount, at the same time that the Son sacrificed His body by death, Mary sacrificed her soul by compassion."

Moreover, says Saint Antoninus, "while other martyrs suffered by sacrificing their own lives, the Blessed Virgin suffered by sacrificing her Son's life, a life that she loved far more than her own; so that she not only suffered in her soul all that her Son endured in His body, but moreover the sight of her Son's torments brought more grief to her heart than if she had endured them all in her own person. No one can doubt that Mary suffered in her heart all the outrages which she saw inflicted on her beloved Jesus. Any one can understand that the sufferings of children are also those of their mothers who witness them. Saint Augustine, considering the anguish endured by the mother of the Maccabees in witnessing the tortures of her sons, says, "she, seeing their sufferings, suffered in each one; because she loved them all, she endured in her soul what they endured in their flesh." Thus also did Mary suffer all those torments-the scourges, thorns, nails, and the cross, which tortured the innocent flesh of Jesus, all entered at the same time into the heart of this Blessed Virgin, to complete her martyrdom. "He suffered in "the flesh, and she in her heart," writes the Blessed Amadeus. "So much so," says Saint Lawrence Justinian, "that the heart of Mary became, as it were, a mirror of the Passion of the Son, in which might be seen, faithfully reflected, the spitting, the blows and wounds, and all that Jesus suffered." Saint Bonaventure also remarks that "those wounds, which were scattered over the body of our Lord, were all united in the single heart of Mary."

Thus was our Blessed Lady, through the compassion of her loving heart for her Son, scourged, crowned with thorns, insulted, and nailed to the cross. Whence the same Saint, considering Mary on Mount Calvary, present at the death of her Son, questions her in these words: "O Lady, tell me where didst thou stand? Was it only at the foot of the cross? Ah, much more than this, thou wast on the cross itself, crucified with thy Son." Richard of Saint Lawrence, on the words of the Redeemer, spoken by Isaias the prophet, "I have trodden the wine-press alone, and of the Gentiles there is not a man with me," says, "It is true, O Lord, that in the work of human redemption Thou didst suffer alone, and that there was not a man who sufficiently pitied Thee; but there was a woman with Thee, and she was Thine own Mother; she suffered in her heart all that Thou didst endure in Thy body."

But all this is saying too little of Mary's sorrows, since, as I have already observed, she suffered more in witnessing the sufferings of her beloved Jesus than if she had herself endured all the outrages and death of her Son. Erasmus, speaking of parents in general, says, that "they are more cruelly tormented by their children's sufferings than by their own." This is not always true, but in Mary it evidently was so; for it is certain that she loved her Son and His life beyond all comparison more than herself or a thousand lives of her own. Therefore Blessed Amadeus rightly affirms, that "the afflicted Mother, at the sorrowful sight of the torments of her beloved Jesus, suffered far more than she would have done had she herself endured His whole Passion." The reason is evident, for, as Saint Bernard says, "the soul is more where it loves than where it lives." Our Lord Himself had already said the same thing: "where our treasure is, there also is our heart." If Mary, then, by love, lived more in her Son than in herself, she must have endured far greater torments in the sufferings and death of her Son than she would have done, had the most cruel death in the world been inflicted upon her.
Here we must reflect on another circumstance which rendered the martyrdom of Mary beyond all comparison greater than the torments of all the martyrs: it is, that in the Passion of Jesus she suffered much, and she suffered, moreover, without the least alleviation. The martyrs suffered under the torments inflicted on them by tyrants; but the love of Jesus rendered their pains sweet and agreeable. A Saint Vincent was tortured on a rack, torn with pincers, burnt with red-hot iron plates; but, as Saint Augustine remarks, "it seemed as if it was one who suffered, and another who spoke." The Saint addressed the tyrant with such energy and contempt for his torments, that it seemed as if one Vincent suffered and another spoke; so greatly did God strengthen him with the sweetness of His love in the midst of all he endured. A Saint Boniface had his body torn with iron hooks; sharp-pointed reeds were thrust between his nails and flesh; melted lead was poured into his mouth; and in the midst of all he could not tire saying "I give Thee thanks, O Lord Jesus Christ." A Saint Mark and a Saint Marcellinus were bound to a stake, their feet pierced with nails; and when the tyrant addressed them, saying, "Wretches, see to what a state you are reduced; save yourselves from these torments," they answered: "Of what pains, of what torments dost thou speak? We never enjoyed so luxurious a banquet as in the present moment, in which we joyfully suffer for the love of Jesus Christ." A Saint Lawrence suffered; but when roasting on the gridiron, "the interior flame of love," says Saint Leo, "was more powerful in consoling his soul than the flame without in torturing his body." Hence love Tendered him so courageous that he mocked the tyrant, saying, "If thou desirest to feed on my flesh, a part is sufficiently roasted; turn it, and eat." But how, in the midst of so many torments, in that prolonged death, could the Saint thus rejoice? "Ah!" replies Saint Augustine, "inebriated with the wine of Divine love, he felt neither torments nor death."

So that the more the holy martyrs loved Jesus, the less did they feel their torments and death; and the sight alone of the sufferings of a crucified God was sufficient to console them. But was our suffering Mother also consoled by love for her Son, and the sight of His torments? Ah, no; for this very Son who suffered was the whole cause of them, and the love she bore Him was her only and most cruel executioner; for Mary's whole martyrdom consisted in beholding and pitying her innocent and beloved Son, who suffered so much. Hence, the greater was her love for Him, the more bitter and inconsolable was her grief. "Great as the sea is thy destruction; who shall heal thee?" Ah, Queen of Heaven, love hath mitigated the sufferings of other martyrs, and healed their wounds; but who hath ever soothed thy bitter grief? Who hath ever healed the too cruel wounds of thy heart? "Who shall heal thee," since that very Son who could give thee consolation was, by His sufferings, the only cause of thine, and the love which thou didst bear Him was the whole ingredient of thy martyrdom. So that, as other martyrs, as Diez remarks, are all represented with the instruments of their sufferings-a Saint Paul with a sword, a Saint Andrew with a cross, a Saint Lawrence with a gridiron-Mary is represented with her dead Son in her arms; for Jesus Himself, and He alone, was the instrument of her martyrdom, by reason of the love she bore Him. Richard of Saint Victor confirms in a few words all that I have now said: "In other martyrs, the greatness of their love soothed the pains of their martyrdom; but in the Blessed Virgin, the greater was her love, the greater were her sufferings, the more cruel was her martyrdom."
It is certain that the more we love a thing, the greater is the pain we feel in losing it. We are more afflicted at the loss of a brother than at that of a beast of burden; we are more grieved at the loss of a son than at that of a friend. Now, Cornelius a Lapide says, "that to understand the greatness of Mary's grief at the death of her Son, we must understand the greatness of the love she bore Him." But who can ever measure that love? Blessed Amadeus says that "in the heart of Mary were united two kinds of love for her Jesus-supernatural love, by which she loved Him as her God, and natural love, by which she loved Him as her Son." So that these two loves became one; but so immense a love, that William of Paris even says that the Blessed Virgin "loved Him as much as it was possible for a pure creature to love Him." Hence Richard of Saint Victor affirms that "as there was no love like her love, so there was no sorrow like her sorrow." And if the love of Mary towards her Son was immense, immense also must have been her grief in losing Him by death. "Where there is the greatest love," says Saint Albert the Great, "there also is the greatest grief."

Let us now imagine to ourselves the Divine Mother standing near her Son expiring on the cross, and justly applying to herself the words of Jeremias, thus addressing us: "O all ye that pass by the way, attend and see if there be any sorrow like to my sorrow." O you who spend your lives upon earth, and pity me not, stop awhile to look at me, now that I behold this beloved Son dying before my eyes; and then see if, amongst all those who are afflicted and tormented, a sorrow is to be found like unto my sorrow. "No, O most suffering of all mothers," replies Saint Bonaventure, "no more bitter grief than thine can be found; for no son more dear than thine can be found." Ah, "there never was a more amiable son in the world than Jesus," says Richard of Saint Lawrence; "nor has there ever been a mother who more tenderly loved her son than Mary! But since there never has been in the world a love like unto Mary's love, how can any sorrow be found like unto Mary's sorrow?"

Therefore Saint Ildephonsus did not hesitate to assert, "to say that Mary's sorrows were greater than all the torments of the martyrs united, was to say too little." And Saint Anselm adds, that "the most cruel tortures inflicted on the holy martyrs were trifling, or as nothing in comparison with the martyrdom of Mary." Saint Basil of Seleucia also writes, "that as the sun exceeds all the other planets in splendor, so did Mary's sufferings exceed those of all the other martyrs." A learned author concludes with a beautiful sentiment. He says that so great was the sorrow of this tender Mother in the Passion of Jesus, that she alone compassionated in a degree by any means adequate to its merits the death of a God made man.

But here Saint Bonaventure, addressing this Blessed Virgin, says, "And why, O Lady, didst thou also go to sacrifice thyself on Calvary? Was not a crucified God sufficient to redeem us, that thou, His Mother, wouldst also go to be crucified with Him?" Indeed, the death of Jesus was more than enough to save the world, and an infinity of worlds; but this good Mother, for the love she bore us, wished also to help the cause of our salvation with the merits of her sufferings, which she offered for us on Calvary. Therefore, Saint Albert the Great says, "that as we are under great obligations to Jesus for His Passion endured for our love, so also are we under great obligations to Mary, for the martyrdom which she voluntarily suffered for our salvation in the death of her Son." I say voluntarily, since, as Saint Agnes revealed to Saint Bridget, "our compassionate and benign Mother was satisfied rather to endure any torment than that our souls should not be redeemed, and be left in their former state of perdition." And, indeed, we may say that Mary's only relief in the midst of her great sorrow in the Passion of her Son, was to see the lost world redeemed by His death, and men who were His enemies reconciled with God. "While grieving she rejoiced," says Simon of Cassia, "that a sacrifice was offered for the redemption of all, by which He who was angry was appeased."

So great a love on the part of Mary deserves our gratitude, and that gratitude should be shown by at least meditating upon and pitying her in her sorrow. But she complained to Saint Bridget that very few did so, and that the greater part of the world lived in forgetfulness of them: "I look around at all who are on earth, to see if by chance there are any who pity me, and meditate upon my sorrows; and I find that there are very few. Therefore, my daughter, though I am forgotten by many, at least do thou not forget me; consider my anguish, and imitate, as far as thou canst, my grief." To understand how pleasing it is to the Blessed Virgin that we should remember her dolors, we need only know that, in the year 1239, she appeared to seven devout clients of hers (who were afterwards founders of the religious order of the Servants of Mary), with a black garment in her hand, and desired them, if they wished to please her, often to meditate on her sorrows: for this purpose, and to remind them of her sorrows, she expressed her desire that in future they should wear that mourning dress. Jesus Christ Himself revealed to the Blessed Veronica da Binasco, that He is, as it were, more pleased in seeing His Mother compassionated than Himself; for thus He addressed her: "My daughter, tears shed for My Passion are dear to Me; but as I love My Mother Mary with an immense love, the meditation of the torments which she endured at My death is even more agreeable to Me."

Wherefore the graces promised by Jesus to those who are devoted to the dolors of Mary are very great. Pelbart relates that it was revealed to Saint Elizabeth, that after the Assumption of the Blessed Virgin into Heaven, Saint John the Evangelist desired to see her again. The favor was granted him; his dear Mother appeared to him, and with her Jesus Christ also appeared; the Saint then heard Mary ask her Son to grant some special grace to all those who are devoted to her dolors. Jesus promised her four principal ones: First, that those who before death invoke the Divine Mother in the name of her sorrows should obtain true repentance of all their sins. Second, that He would protect all who have this devotion in their tribulations, and that He would protect them especially at the hour of death. Third, that He would impress upon their minds the remembrance of His Passion, and that they should have their reward for it in Heaven. Fourth, that He would commit such devout clients to the hands of Mary, with the power to dispose of them in whatever manner she might please, and to obtain for them all the graces she might desire. In proof of this, let us see, in the following example, how greatly devotion to the dolors of Mary aids in obtaining eternal salvation.

Example

In the revelations of Saint Bridget we read that there was a rich man, as noble by birth as he was vile and sinful in his habits. He had given himself, by an express compact, as a slave to the devil; and for sixty successive years had served him, leading such a life as may be imagined, and never approaching the sacraments. Now this prince was dying; and Jesus Christ, to show him mercy, commanded Saint Bridget to tell her confessor to go and visit him, and exhort him to confess his sins. The confessor went, and the sick man said that he did not require confession, as he had often approached the Sacrament of Penance. The priest went a second time; but this poor slave of Hell persevered in his obstinate determination not to confess. Jesus again told the Saint to desire the confessor to return. He did so; and on this third occasion told the sick man the revelation made to the Saint, and that he had returned so many times because our Lord, who wished to show him mercy, had so ordered. On hearing this the dying man was touched, and began to weep: "But how," he exclaimed, "can I be saved; I, who for sixty years have served the devil as his slave, and have my soul burdened with innumerable sins?" "My son," answered the father, encouraging him, "doubt not; if you repent of them, on the part of God I promise you pardon." Then, gaining confidence, he said to the confessor, "Father, I looked upon myself as lost, and already despaired of salvation; but now I feel a sorrow for my sins, which gives me confidence; and since God has not yet abandoned me, I will make my confession." In fact he made his confession four times on that day, with the greatest marks of sorrow, and on the following morning received the Holy Communion. On the sixth day, contrite and resigned, he died. After his death, Jesus Christ again spoke to Saint Bridget, and told her that that sinner was saved; that he was then in Purgatory, and that he owed his salvation to the intercession of the Blessed Virgin, His Mother; for the deceased, although he had led so wicked a life, had nevertheless always preserved devotion to her dolors, and whenever he thought of them, pitied her.

Prayer

O my afflicted Mother! Queen of martyrs and of sorrows, thou didst so bitterly weep over thy Son, who died for my salvation; but what will thy tears avail me if I am lost? By the merit, then, of thy sorrows, obtain me true contrition for my sins, and a real amendment of life, together with constant and tender compassion for the sufferings of Jesus and thy dolors. And if Jesus and thou, being so innocent, have suffered so much for love of me, obtain that at least I, who am deserving of Hell, may suffer something for thy love. "O Lady," will I say with St. Bonaventure, "if I have offended thee, in justice wound my heart; if I have served thee, I now ask wounds for my reward. It is shameful to me to see my Lord Jesus wounded, and thee wounded with Him, and myself without a wound." In fine, O my Mother, by the grief thou didst experience in seeing thy Son bow down His head and expire on the cross in the midst of so many torments, I beseech thee to obtain me a good death. Ah, cease not, O advocate of sinners, to assist my afflicted soul in the midst of the combats in which it will have to engage on its great passage from time to eternity. And as it is probable that I may then have lost my speech and strength to invoke thy name and that of Jesus, who are all my hope, I do so now; I invoke thy Son and thee to succor me in that last moment; and I say, Jesus and Mary, to you I commend my soul. Amen.

Sunday, August 28, 2011

Eternal Mother by Rev. William Most


"As a result, she is our Mother in the order of grace." With these few words Vatican II (On the Church 61) gave us a brilliant theology of the Motherhood of Our Lady, and a marvelous help to understand the motherhood of all mothers. To follow it, we need to read the two sentences that come before it: "The Blessed Virgin, predestined from eternity along with the Incarnation of the Divine Word, as the Mother of God, on this earth was the gracious Mother of the Divine Redeemer, His associate more than others, in a singular way, and the humble maid-servant of the Lord. In conceiving Christ, in bringing Him forth, in nourishing Him, in presenting Him to the Father in the Temple, in suffering with her Son as He died on the cross, she cooperated in the work of the Savior, in an altogether singular way, by obedience, faith, hope and burning love, to restore supernatural life to souls. As a result, she is our Mother in the order of grace.

We should really call her the Eternal Mother - for her Motherhood of her divine Son was planned for from all eternity, as the Council tells us. At first sight this might seem strange, yet it is obvious when we think of it. For all the decrees of God are as eternal as His own Person - really, they are identified with Him Who is unchangeable. Hence they always are there - we should not simply say they were there. They are eternal. Now when God decreed to send His Son to become man, of course that included the provision for the Mother through whom it would take place. Hence it is evident: she was eternally called to be His Mother.
The Council tells us that she was His Mother also in sharing His work, as His associate, even to the extent of sharing the work of Redemption, as the text goes on to say. We think of that work of Redemption especially as accomplished on the Cross, and that is true. But really, everything He did was of itself more than enough to earn redemption for us - any act of the God-man was infinite in worth. So the Greek Fathers of the Church liked to speak of what is called physical-mystical solidarity. It means this: All humanity forms a unit, a solidarity. But, the Sacred Humanity of Christ was part of that solidarity. Further, His humanity was joined in the unity of one Person to the divinity. Hence, as it were, power spread out across His humanity to the rest of humanity and healed it. This picturesque way of expressing the profound reality brings out the fact that the very fact of the Incarnation alone, without anything following, would have redeemed us. For that was an infinite merit, an infinite satisfaction for the Second Person of the Holy Trinity to lower Himself so as to become man. In itself that alone could have redeemed countless worlds. Yet by the will of the Father, there was to be more, much more, than the mere Incarnation. He was to do enough to redeem us, as we said, many times over. Hence the Council adds: "In conceiving Christ, in bringing Him forth, in nourishing Him, in presenting Him to the Father in the Temple, in suffering with Him as He died on the Cross, she cooperated in the work of the Savior," in redemption.

"As a result, she is our Mother in the order of grace." An ordinary mother does two things to gain that glorious title: she shares in bringing a new life into being, she takes care of that life so long as she is needed, as long as she is willing and able.

Our Lady did share in bringing forth a new life. She did not suffer the physical pain of bringing Him forth (i.e. Virgin Birth), as ordinary mothers do - a great work, yet part of Our Father's plan, a work sometimes fraught with danger of death, before the advances of modern medicine came, for they literally went down into the valley of death to bring us to light.

No, Vatican II taught earlier that "He did not diminish but consecrated her virginal integrity" that is, the state of being physically untouched, without lesion. Our Lady, most fittingly, did not experience those things in the birth of Jesus. Yet she more than made up for that in the pain of bringing us forth to new life on Calvary. For John Paul II, in his encyclical Redemptoris Mater (Mother of the Redeemer), said that there she underwent the "greatest self-emptying in history." Yes. Any soul that is holy must align its will with the will of God, must positively will, not just tolerate, whatever He positively wills. Now it was and is evident, at that dark hour, it was the will of the Father, that her Son should die, die then, die so horribly. Hence, in spite of her love for Him, she was called on to positively will that He die, die then, die so horribly. We said in spite of her love - in practice, love and holiness are interchangeable terms. So when Pius IX told us in his Apostolic Constitution Ineffabilis Deus, that already at the start, her holiness was so great that "none greater under God can be thought of, and no one but God can comprehend it" - he told us something staggering. God could of course create a creature capable of understanding her love - yet He has not actually done that - so, only God Himself can comprehend her love. Yet she was called on to go directly counter to a literally incomprehensible love by willing what that Father willed, what her Son willed, that He die, die then, die so horribly.

 Really, her suffering with Him had begun years before, at the very day of the Annunciation. For as soon as the Archangel told her that her Son would reign over the house of Jacob forever, even an ordinary Jew - how much more the one full of grace - would see that He was to be the Messiah. Then, if not at that hour, at least very soon, in pondering in her heart, she would understand the terrible words of Isaiah the Prophet in Chapter 53 about the lamb, bruised for our offenses, led to the slaughter. The hardened Jews distorted that chapter, not being able to grasp it. But she would, she did understand it. In saying fiat (yes), to the Archangel, she was actually saying yes to being the associate in such suffering. The Epistle to the Hebrews (10:5-7) tell us that "on entering into this world" He said "Behold, I come to do Your will, O God." Her fiat was the echo, the counterpart of that acceptance He made from the first instant of His conception. For already then, as several documents of the Popes assure us, His human soul saw the vision of God, in which all knowledge is present. In that, He saw all His future sufferings.

So in presenting Him in the Temple, she knew that she was not really buying Him back from the service of God, as other mothers were doing - no, she was turning Him over to it, in the offertory of the great sacrifice. At that moment His human soul of course echoed, or rather, continued, the obedience He presented on entering into this world: "Behold, I come to do Your will O God." That dread pledge of consent was to continue, to exact its tremendous toll at the foot of the Cross.

So it was in this way that Our Lady fulfilled the first of the requirements for being our Mother, namely, that of sharing in bringing a new life into being. The cost, as we saw, was literally beyond the comprehension of any actually existing creature. For her love was greater than, and beyond the understanding of even the highest Seraphim and Cherubim. Yet she had to sacrifice that love, to will the Great Sacrifice that was to bring us to life.

And what a life that is! Compared to it, mere mortal life is as nothing. The Second Epistle of Saint Peter (1:4) says that in it we are made "sharers in the divine nature."

Let us try to explore this mystery a bit. Saint Paul says that in heaven we will see God "face-to-face". Now of course, God does not have a face. Nor do souls have mortal eyes. But the solid reality is far beyond what the words can readily convey. When I look at another person in this life, I do not take that one into my mind - no, I take in an image. The person is finite, limited, and so a finite image can let me know about that one. But God is infinite. No image could begin to convey what He is like. So the next, the inevitable step is staggering: it must be that the divinity will join itself to the created human soul immediately, without even an image in between, so that the soul can know Him even as His Son knows Him, as He knows His Son. Within that divinity there as it were flow infinite streams of knowledge and of love. For the first chapter of John's Gospel tells us that in the beginning the Father spoke the Word. That Word is not a ripple in the air as our words are. Now, it is substantial, it is the Second Person of the Holy Trinity. Between Father and Son there arises love - again, not the feeble reality we know, but it too is substantial, it is another Divine Person, the Holy Spirit, proceeding by way of infinite love. Only a being at least partly divine could as it were plug into these infinite streams, of knowledge, of love. Yet that is what it means to be "sharers in the divine nature", which we are by the life of grace, which she shared in gaining for us, at a cost so great that, as we said, only God can comprehend it. So she really is our Mother in the order of grace.

But a mother has a second role to fulfill: to take care of the new life, so long as she is willing, able, and needed. In ordinary human affairs, there comes a time when the mother is not really much needed, for the child grows to adult stature. But in the spiritual life, we remain children - for unless we become as little children we shall not inherit the kingdom. Or, to put it more clearly, we always stand in the need of grace as long as we have not yet entered the mansions of our Father. That grace, every grace, comes to us through her, for, as Vatican II taught (62), she is the Mediatrix - and in a note it referred us to the teachings of many Popes who specify "of all graces." That was really obvious - for since she shared in earning all graces, of course she would share similarly in giving out all graces. So our need of her never ends in this life.

We said an ordinary mother should give care as long as she is willing and able. Sadly, some human mothers stop being willing. Not so our Heavenly Mother. The children she brought into life by such tremendous pain she will never forget. She is always willing.

An ordinary mother may come to points at which she is unable to help, howsoever pathetically she way wish to do so. Not so our Mother in Heaven: Pope Benedict XV called her "suppliant omnipotence". That is, all that God can do by His very inherent power, she can obtain by asking Him for it. And that she does.

From what we have said, we see that she brought us forth on Calvary. Yet there is a sense in which we can correctly say that she became our Mother even before that day. On June 19, 1947, Pope Pius XII sent a message to the Marian Congress of Ottawa, Canada. He said: "When the little maid of Nazareth uttered her fiat to the message of the angel... she became not only the Mother of God in the physical order of nature, but also in the supernatural order of grace she became the Mother of all who...would be made one under the Headship of her divine Son. The Mother of the Head would be the Mother of the members. The Mother of the vine would be the Mother of the branches."

The thought is obvious. Her Son is the Head of the Mystical Body, of which we are members. She really could not become the Mother of the Head without automatically, as it were, becoming the Mother of the members of Her Son. Of course, that was only begun at the Annunciation. It was to be brought to light, with immense pain, only on the hill of Calvary.

There was a mysterious day on which she and some of His relatives came to a crowd where Her Son was teaching. Her presence was announced to Him. His reply was puzzling (Mark 3:33-35): "Who is My Mother? Whoever does the will of my Father in heaven is brother and sister and mother to Me."
At first sight this might seem like a rejection. But no, He would never do that. He Whose Father gave the commandment to honor Father and Mother would never break that commandment. Really, as Vatican II makes clear (56), He was teaching dramatically, as He often did. It said: "She received His words in which her Son, extolling the kingdom beyond the reasons and bonds of flesh and blood, proclaimed blessed those who hear the word of God and keep it - as she was faithfully doing."

So really, there are two forms of greatness:

the one, being physically the Mother of God -

the other, hearing the word of God and keeping it.

She was at the peak in both categories. For at the Annunciation she did hear the word of God, and kept it, thereby receiving within her womb that very Word Himself. And throughout all the days thereafter, she faithfully continued her fiat, at immense cost, hearing and doing the word of God. So her holiness was so great that, as Pius IX told us, "none greater under God can be thought of, and no one but God can comprehend it". We saw that under the Cross, where her fidelity to the word of God, to His will, caused her to even will the dreadful death of a Son so beloved that only God can comprehend her love. So she was at the peak in both categories.

We might wonder why the Father put her into such difficult straits? The answer is that any soul grows greatly not by doing easy things, but by holding on with determination in its will to His will even when that is difficult, even when it seems impossible. So His reply to her was seemingly a rejection - actually, it was an act of immense love. She was, indeed, full of grace from the start. Yet her capacity for grace could grow, and it did that all the days of her life.

Ordinary mothers cannot of course be both virgin and mother. But they can imitate, at a distance, her devotion to the Word of God, her fidelity to His will, her carrying out of the role designed for her by our Father's plan. Even when the need for physical care of their sons dims, the sons still need spiritual care - and that the mothers should provide, even as she did.

Saint Luke tells us that when young, He went down to Nazareth and was subject to them. He, in His strictly divine humility, allowed Himself to be formed, humanly, by His Mother and Saint Joseph. Ordinary mothers can imitate this and should realize that to form a new life in the likeness of Jesus or His Mother is far higher than to be a business executive, a policewoman, a tram operator, or whatever - it is far higher and nobler than the masterpieces of Michelangelo, who carved in marble - mothers carve in human souls!