Simple Thoughts on the Rosary: Sorrowful Mysteries: Mary and the Passion
Our Lady is intimately bound up with all the mysteries of our Lord’s life on earth. We cannot think of the Infancy or Childhood apart from her. We must not leave her out when we come to the Passion. In the work He came to do for us our Blessed Saviour would have her help throughout. As in His Childhood and in His Public Life, so in His Passion, He associated her with Himself, her tears and prayers and obedience with His own.
Many of His servants have been allowed to follow Him in mysterious companionship through the scenes of His sacred sufferings. What must have been the fellowship vouchsafed to His Mother? He said by His prophet: “There is not a man with Me.”—(Isaias 63.) But His Mother was surely with Him; if not actually present always, yet seeing and hearing all that befel Him with a reality reserved for herself alone. She is ready to share her contemplation and her sorrows. What heart so hard as not to desire to share them with her!
Who would visit the scenes of the Passion alone when he could go with Mary! And what a difference it makes in the fruit! How much more deeply the heart is moved, seeing as Mary sees, feeling as Mary feels! To gain insight into their depths, appreciation of their lessons, love and gratitude to our Lord, and sympathy with Him, we must keep close to her throughout. We must turn continually from the Son to the Mother. In her agonised face we shall see by reflection what He suffers, better than by fixing our gaze on Him alone. Even when she may not be actually present, as at the Agony in the Garden or the mock coronation in the guard-room, we cannot doubt her to have a fuller knowledge of every detail than has been granted to any other. When contemplating any scene, therefore, we may kneel by her side, watch with her eyes, feel through her heart, and come thus “to know our Lord more clearly, to love Him more dearly, and to follow Him more nearly.”
Go to her in her lonely room, where on Thursday night she is sharing the Agony of her Son in the Garden and drinking His bitter chalice with Him. Look into her face as she sees Him go to His disciples and humbly ask for their companionship in the loneliness that is upon Him: “Stay you here and watch with Me.” O Mother, how willingly wouldst thou stay by His side and keep watch through those hours of awful strife!
See how she trembles as her Son is roughly bound to the pillar. How she notes each dread detail of the preparations. How she shrinks horror-stricken at the sight of the scourge. Look, if you can, into her face as the first strokes fall.
See her anguish when His tormentors press the thorny crown upon His brow. She marks the signs of intolerable pain as they beat it down with the reed. She would bear with joy any agony to bring Him a moment’s relief, and she knows that her pain, clearly seen by Him, is an additional torture to His tender filial Heart. See her tears at the spitting and the mockery.
Ask to go with her on Friday morning as she follows John into the street. The shouts of the crowd on the way to Calvary are his guide where to lead her. Keep close; let not the dense throng separate you from her; you will miss so much of nearness to the Son if you are parted from the Mother. Here at this corner she is to meet Him. Watch the meeting. See the agony of both; their perfect resignation; how they accept what is harder to bear than personal suffering—pain, and shame for that one who is dearer to each than life. Admire these two hearts the most utterly stricken, the meekest, the bravest earth has ever seen.
“Woman, behold thy son.” Our Lord had you in His Heart as He hung upon the Cross. The agony of the death throes could not distract Him from your need of an advocate, a comforter, a mother. Faintly from the dry lips came His legacy to you—all He had left to give you, except the life which was ebbing fast: “Son, behold thy Mother.” What will you say to Him for there remembering you? What will you say to her for there accepting you? How will you thank God for all the graces that have been the fruit of that commendation?
Mother, dear, all thou canst share with thy children thou art ready to share! Share, then, with me thy pain in the Passion of thy Son. Thou must not keep all for thyself. I have more right to it than thou hast. It was no sin of thine which tore that Flesh, crowned that Head, broke that Heart. “Christ Jesus came into this world to save sinners, of whom I am the chief.”—(I. Tim. 1.) “He loved me and delivered Himself for me.”—(Galat. 2.)
He redeemed thee, indeed, but with a choice redemption that is for thee alone. His Blood did not ransom thee out of bondage, but kept thee free; did not wash thee from guilt, but made thee immaculate. Therefore, whilst thou didst cost Him much thou wert a joy to Him always. Thy spirit rejoices in God thy Saviour, yet not as ours. And in a higher way than thy children thou dost weep over the sufferings of the Man of Sorrows. Yet thou disdainest not the companionship of the least or the most guilty. With any of us thou wilt share thy pain. Share it now with