If you’ve been Catholic long enough, you’ve surely seen an
image of the Virgin Mary with tears in her eyes and seven swords, or just one,
piercing her heart. She’s often dressed in black or navy blue, and sometimes
holding the body of Jesus or her hands clasped tightly to her chest. Her name
is Our Lady of Sorrows.
Seven events from Scripture form the foundation of this
devotion. The seven sorrows of Mary are: the prophecy of Simeon; the flight
into Egypt; the loss of Jesus in the temple; Mary meets Jesus on the way to Calvary;
Mary stands at the foot of the cross; Mary receives the body of Jesus; and
Jesus’ body is placed in the tomb.
The image may seem a bit much at times. Or it may make us uncomfortable. Perhaps we want to turn away.
That’s natural. And there’s nothing wrong with meditating on
something else. Yet, there’s something important about this image. It isn't solely about honoring Mary’s pain. It’s about God lifting up the lowly and scattering the proud. It's about cultivating empathy and compassion. It’s
about helping everyone who carries a heavy load know that the Mother of God is
on their side.
I came to see the seven sorrows of Mary in this light after
attending a recent retreat led by Immaculee Ilibagiza, an author and survivor
of the Rwandan genocide, at St. Leo the Great School in Fairfax. After
surviving the unthinkable, Ilibagiza began to teach others the Seven Sorrows
Rosary, a devotion that originated centuries ago, but took on new popularity
after Marian apparitions in the 1980s in Kibeho, Rwanda.
As I’ve prayed the Seven Sorrows Rosary over the last few
weeks, I’ve come to see Our Lady of Sorrows in a new way.
The seven sorrows are for the times when you know something
terrible is on the horizon. How many years did Mary turn over the words of
Simeon in her heart? “This child is destined to cause many in Israel to fall,
and many others to rise. He has been sent as a sign from God, but many will
oppose him. As a result, the deepest thoughts of many hearts will be revealed.
And a sword will pierce your very soul.”
The seven sorrows are for every mother and father terrified
of losing their child. They are for every parent who walks hundreds or
thousands of miles in hopes that they can save the most important person in the
world from a terrible fate. They’re for every person haunted by a child’s
traumatized eyes. Mary, the new mother who made a terrifying journey to evade
soldiers hunting down newborns, carried the same wounds. She is with that
child.
The seven sorrows are for everyone terrified of losing a
loved one too soon. They’re for the person whose child may be physically
absent, but always there. Mary, who anxiously searched for Jesus in the temple,
wants to help every person place their trust in God whatever the outcome.
The seven sorrows are for everyone who’s been betrayed. A
devout mother saw religious leaders among the crowd of people calling for her
son’s violent death. Did she recognize anyone? Were former friends among the
crowd? Did she see some of the same people who joyfully welcomed him into
Jerusalem spitting and jeering at him as he fell from the weight of the heavy
wooden beams?
Mary stood at the foot of the cross, watched Jesus die, then
held his lifeless body. Did she prepare his body for burial? Or did she have
friends to help her through it? What did she feel as his body was placed in a
tomb donated by Joseph of Arimathea — perhaps a friend, but perhaps a stranger?
The seven sorrows are for everyone who has watched as a loved
one suffers under the weight of an addiction or another disease. The seven
sorrows are for everyone who has watched another person die, perhaps slowly or
painfully. The seven sorrows are for the person who must not only make sure
their loved one is properly buried but spend the ensuing weeks and months
shifting through their loved one’s paperwork; choose what to throw away, give
away and keep; and try to care for friends left behind.
Our Lady of Sorrows knows the pain. But Our Lady doesn’t
want us to suffer. As Ilibagiza said at the retreat, Mary is there to give us
something to hold on to while we work through the sorrows of the world. Sept.
15, the feast of Our Lady of Sorrows, is a good day to thank her.
© Arlington Catholic Herald 2021