1972: National Committee for Prevention of Child Abuse.
1980: Mothers Against Drunk Driving (MADD)
2012: Moms Demand Action (fighting gun violence)
Each of these grass-roots organizations was founded by a mother grieving the senseless loss of her child. Many people who have joined their efforts suffered the same kinds of loss. No mother would wish the violent death of a child on any other person.
Mary, the mother of Jesus, knew the same sorrow. Millions of faithful worshippers have found her an empathetic figure.
A Common Sorrow
On September 15, our Catholic friends celebrate the feast of “Our Lady of Sorrows,” a name for Mary derived from Luke 2:34–35.
Then Simeon blessed them and told his mother Mary, “Indeed, this child is destined to cause the fall and rise of many in Israel and to be a sign that will be opposed—and a sword will pierce your own soul—that the thoughts of many hearts may be revealed.”
It’s one thing to deliver a baby away from home, likely among your husband’s extended family, and bring him to the Temple to be dedicated. It’s another thing to hear an old man prophesy about the future calling and controversy your baby boy will experience—and then hear him prophesy about your future suffering as the boy’s mother. Just the dedication prayer every mother hopes for. Or not.
What we know of Mary’s life from the Gospels reveals her dedication to Jesus. We can argue about exactly what she knew ahead of time, but the Scriptures tell us that she reflected thoughtfully over the significant events she shared with Jesus (Luke 2:19, 51).
Seven Sorrows
Traditionally, Mary is said to have suffered seven particular sorrows: the flight into Egypt; the loss and finding of the child Jesus in the Temple; Mary’s meeting Jesus on his way to Calvary; Mary’s witnessing Jesus’s crucifixion; her holding of Jesus when he was taken down from the cross; and then his burial. Mary is sometimes depicted with her heart exposed and with seven swords piercing it (see image above).
The feast day became popular in the eleventh and twelfth centuries, when she was known as Our Lady of Compassion, which means to “suffer with.” It took until 1814 for the feast day to be set permanently on September 15. The Second Vatican Council in its Dogmatic Constitution on the Church (Lumia Gentium) wrote, “She stood in keeping with the divine plan, suffering grievously with her only-begotten Son. There she united herself, with a maternal heart, to his sacrifice, and lovingly consented to the immolation of this victim which she herself had brought forth (#58).
There’s a lot in the Lumia Gentium I question, but I can live with the statement above understood in this way: Mary trusted Jesus because she knew he was the Messiah, so when he gave himself up to be crucified, she remained with him as closely as she was allowed, accepting his decision to suffer so heinously. She stayed with him to the end, witnessing his crucifixion from so close that Jesus was able to speak to her (John 19:26). Her presence at his death inspired many works of art, most notably the pietàs by Michaelangelo and Scalza. In each one, she is depicted as the one holding the weight of her son’s slumping, lifeless body.
A Mother Like Us
Many look to Mary for comfort, finding in her a kindred spirit who understood the pain of knowing her child had died unjustly. Those who seek intercession from saints who are already with the Lord often keep her at the top of their intercessors, believing she has a closer link with Jesus than any other person. From the first few centuries of the church, Mary was seen as a favored intercessor.
I am not persuaded that Mary has special pull with her Son, and I’d rather look to Scripture’s words about praying directly to Christ himself: “For there is one God and one mediator between God and mankind, the man Christ Jesus, who gave himself as a ransom for all…” (1 Timothy 2:5–6).
But I do believe we can find encouragement and inspiration in the lives of the faithful who have gone before us. One way we identify with Mary as Our Lady of Sorrow is in the very universality of mourning. When it comes to grief, in many cases Mary is us. She certainly has a lot in common with the MADD moms. And sometimes we just need to know we are not alone in our suffering. Others have been through it too, and some have come out of it healed and whole.
Redeeming the Pain
Mary’s story didn’t end at the cross. In Acts 1:12–14, when the Twelve returned to Jerusalem at Jesus’s instruction, they were joined by many others, “along with the women, including Mary the mother of Jesus, and his brothers.” Here, among the ones she’d come to know, she ensconced herself within the fledgling church.
Together they prayed, and ten days later “they were all gathered together in one place” (2:1) when the Spirit descended upon them all—the day of Pentecost (2:4). In a bookend to the Nativity, in which Mary was (obviously) present at the birth of the Savior, so she was present at the birth of his church.
The sorrow, the suffering, the pain—everything she had endured watching her son give his life and die his death for the salvation of the world—did not break her. She had seen him resurrected. She knew his life had overcome death. And she was smack in the middle of his legacy, the church, ready to continue his work.
Like Mary, Our Lady of Sorrows, broken-hearted mothers let their grief compel them to action. Instead of letting despair overcome them, they set out to pursue life for others. The Resurrection makes all the difference to us who mourn. Life always wins.
What a great post! I love the ending: "Like Mary, Our Lady of Sorrows, broken-hearted mothers let their grief compel them to action. Instead of letting despair overcome them, they set out to pursue life for others. The Resurrection makes all the difference to us who mourn. Life always wins."
I wonder how Mary experienced (if she was still alive then) the death of her other sons (it seems that at least James was martyred). I know our Catholic friends don't understand "brothers" as meaning "brothers," but it's likely James was also her son. The theological implications of Jesus's death, and Mary's conviction in Jesus's resurrection, must have given Jesus's crucifixion a special place in her heart, but I guess that losing another son must have been painful for her too.