Memorial of Our Lady of Sorrows
Over a decade ago, I lived in Scranton, Pennsylvania. On every Good Friday, the bishop would give the homily at the cathedral. He would always begin by saying (in a rather severe tone), “Today is the saddest day of the year.” There was something about that line that never sat well with me. I grew up praying the rosary—including the Sorrowful mysteries—as well as the Stations of the Cross and I never thought that I should be miserable doing so. I was, after all, praying with the Church, which exists precisely because of Christ’s resurrection. These prayers and liturgical actions only make sense in the context of the entire story of Jesus—we enter into His death knowing that He is risen! We die with Him, knowing that we too will rise with Him.
Standing with Jesus is indeed difficult. It can be difficult for us in celebrating the Stations and it can be even more difficult when profound sorrow arises in our life. The challenge for us is to maintain the wider view. Not to skirt over sorrow and suffering—to do so would be to close our eyes and/or run away from the cross—but to see suffering and sorrow in the context of the resurrection, of God’s saving work.
There is something very powerful about the Sorrowful Mother standing at the foot of the cross in John’s gospel. Almost everyone had fled. She remained. In the fourth century, St. Ambrose noted Mary’s profound courage in sorrow—she stood firm instead of fleeing out of fear. He asserted that it was because Mary understood Jesus’ entire ministry and the its place in God’s saving work. As painful as it was for her, she saw in them the salvation of the world. Especially in John’s gospel—as Jesus hands John to Mary and Mary to John—Mary represents the Church, to whom all disciples are given, and which is founded upon Christ’s saving work
-Tim Gabrielli