The Great Confidence We Should Have in Mary, the Queen of Mercy
Holy Church justly honors the great Virgin Mary, and would have her honored by all men with the glorious title of Queen, because she has been raised to the dignity of Mother of the King of kings. If the Son is King, says St. Athanasius, his Mother must necessarily be considered and named Queen. From the moment that Mary consented to become the Mother of the Eternal Word, adds St. Bernardine of Siena, she merited the title of Queen of the world and of all creatures. If the flesh of Mary was the flesh of Jesus, says St. Arnold the Abbot, how can the Mother be separated from the Son in his kingdom? And so it follows that the royal glory must be considered not only as common to the Mother and the Son, but even as the same: one is the flesh of Mary and of Christ.
If Jesus is the King of the whole world, Mary is also Queen of the whole world. Therefore, says St. Bernardine of Siena, all creatures who serve God ought also to serve Mary; for all angels and men, and all things that are in heaven and on earth, being subject to the dominion of God, are also subject to the dominion of the glorious Virgin. And so Guerric the Abbot thus addresses the divine Mother: Continue, Mary, continue in security to reign; dispose, according to your will, of everything belonging to your Son. For since you are Mother and Spouse of the King of the world, the kingdom and power over all creatures are due to you as Queen.
Mary, then, is Queen. But let all learn, for their consolation, that she is a mild and merciful Queen, who desires the good of us poor sinners. And so Holy Church bids us salute her in this prayer and name her the Queen of Mercy. The very name of Queen, as Blessed Albert the Great remarks, signifies compassion and provision for the poor; and in this it differs from the title of empress, which signifies severity and rigor. The greatness of kings and queens consists in comforting the wretched, as Seneca says. And so, whereas tyrants in their reigning have only their own advantage in view, kings should make the good of their subjects their object. This is why, at the consecration of kings, their heads are anointed with oil, which is the symbol of mercy, to signify that in reigning they should above all things cherish thoughts of kindness and beneficence toward their subjects.
Kings, then, should occupy themselves principally with works of mercy, yet not to the neglect of justice toward the guilty when it is required. Not so Mary. Although she is Queen, she is not a queen of justice, intent upon the punishment of the guilty, but a Queen of mercy, intent solely upon compassion and pardon for sinners. Accordingly, the Church requires us explicitly to call her Queen of Mercy. The High Chancellor of Paris, John Gerson, meditating on the words of David—“Two things I have heard, that power belongeth to God, and mercy to thee, O Lord” (Ps. 61:12–13)—says that the kingdom of God consists of justice and mercy, and that the Lord has divided it: he has reserved the kingdom of justice for himself, and has granted the kingdom of mercy to Mary, ordaining that all the mercies dispensed to men should pass through the hands of Mary and be bestowed according to her good pleasure. St. Thomas confirms this in his preface to the Canonical Epistles, saying that the holy Virgin, when she conceived the divine Word in her womb and brought him forth, obtained half of the kingdom of God by becoming Queen of mercy, while Jesus Christ remained King of justice.
The Eternal Father made Jesus Christ King of justice, and therefore made him the universal Judge of the world. And so the prophet sang: “Give to the king thy judgment, O God; and to the king’s son thy justice” (Ps. 71:1–2). Here a learned interpreter takes up the subject and says: O Lord, you have given your justice to your Son because you have given your mercy to the Mother of the King. And St. Bonaventure happily varies the passage just quoted, saying: Give to the king thy judgment, O God, and to his Mother thy mercy. Ernest, Archbishop of Prague, likewise says that the Eternal Father has given to the Son the office of judging and punishing, and to the Mother the office of pitying and relieving the wretched. Therefore the prophet David foretold that God himself, if I may so express it, would consecrate Mary Queen of mercy, anointing her with the oil of gladness (Ps. 44:8), so that all of us miserable children of Adam might rejoice in the thought of having in heaven that great Queen, so full of the unction of mercy and pity for us. As St. Bonaventure says: O Mary, so full of the unction of mercy and the oil of pity, that God has anointed you with the oil of gladness!
And how well Blessed Albert the Great here applies the history of Queen Esther, who was indeed a type of our Queen Mary! We read in the fourth chapter of the Book of Esther that, in the reign of King Assuerus, a decree went forth throughout his kingdom commanding the death of all the Jews. Then Mardochai, who was one of the condemned, committed their cause to Esther, that she might intercede with the king to obtain the revocation of the sentence. At first Esther refused to take this office upon herself, fearing that it would only excite the anger of the king the more. But Mardochai rebuked her, and bade her remember that she must not think of saving herself alone, since the Lord had placed her upon the throne to obtain salvation for all the Jews: “Think not that thou mayst save thy life only, because thou art in the king’s house, more than all the Jews” (Esther 4:13). Thus Mardochai spoke to Queen Esther; and thus might we poor sinners say to our Queen Mary, were she ever reluctant to intercede with God for our deliverance from the just punishment of our sins. Think not that you may save your life only, because you are in the King’s house, more than all men. Think not, O Lady, that God has exalted you to be Queen of the world only to secure your own welfare, but also that, being so greatly exalted, you may the more pity and the better relieve us miserable sinners.
When Assuerus saw Esther before him, he tenderly asked her what she had come to request of him: “What is thy petition?” Then the queen answered: “If I have found favor in thy sight, O king, give me my people for which I request” (Esther 7:2–3). Assuerus heard her, and immediately ordered the sentence to be revoked. Now, if Assuerus granted Esther the salvation of the Jews because he loved her, will not God graciously listen to Mary—in his boundless love for her—when she prays to him for those poor sinners who commend themselves to her, and says to him: If I have found favor in your sight, O King, my King and my God, if I have ever found favor with you (and well does the divine Mother know herself to be the blessed, the fortunate, the one alone among the children of men who found the grace lost by man; she knows herself to be the beloved of her Lord, more beloved than all the saints and angels together)—give me my people for which I request? If you love me, she says to him, give me, O my Lord, these sinners on whose behalf I entreat you. Is it possible that God will not graciously hear her?
Is there anyone who does not know the power of Mary’s prayers with God? The law of clemency is on her tongue (Prov. 31:26). Every prayer of hers is as a law established by our Lord, that mercy shall be shown to those for whom Mary intercedes. St. Bernard asks why the Church names Mary Queen of Mercy, and answers: Because we believe that she opens the depths of the mercy of God to whom she will, when she will, and as she will; so that not even the vilest sinner is lost, if Mary protects him.
But perhaps it may be feared that Mary disdains to intercede for some sinners, because she finds them so laden with sins? Perhaps the majesty and sanctity of this great Queen should alarm us? No, says St. Gregory: in proportion to her greatness and holiness are her clemency and mercy toward sinners who desire to amend and who have recourse to her. Kings and queens inspire terror by the display of their majesty, and their subjects fear to enter their presence. But what fear, says St. Bernard, can the wretched have in going to this Queen of mercy, since she never shows herself terrible or austere to those who seek her, but all sweetness and kindness? Mary not only gives, but herself presents to us milk and wool: the milk of mercy to inspire us with confidence, and wool to shield us from the thunderbolts of divine justice.
Suetonius relates of the Emperor Titus that he could never refuse a favor to anyone who asked it, and that he even sometimes promised more than he could perform; and when someone admonished him of this, he answered that a prince should not dismiss anyone from his presence dissatisfied. Titus said this; but in reality he was perhaps often either guilty of falsehood or unable to keep his promises. But our Queen cannot lie, and can obtain whatever she wishes for her devoted servants. She has a heart so kind and compassionate, says Blosius, that she cannot send away dissatisfied anyone who invokes her aid. And, as St. Bernard says: How could you, O Mary, refuse help to the wretched, when you are the Queen of mercy? And who are the subjects of mercy, if not the wretched? You are the Queen of mercy, and I the most miserable of all sinners; if I, then, am the first of your subjects, you should have more care of me than of all others.
Have pity on us, then, O Queen of mercy, and give heed to our salvation. Do not say to us, O most holy Virgin—as St. Gregory of Nicomedia would add—that you cannot aid us because of the multitude of our sins, when you have such power and pity that no number of sins can ever surpass it. Nothing resists your power, since your Creator and ours, while he honors you as his Mother, considers your glory as his own, and rejoicing in it as a Son, grants your petitions as if he were discharging an obligation. By this he means that, although Mary is under an infinite obligation to her Son for having chosen her to be his Mother, yet it cannot be denied that the Son also is greatly indebted to his Mother for having given him his human nature. And so Jesus, as if to recompense Mary as he ought, while he enjoys this his glory, honors her especially by always graciously listening to her prayers.
How great, then, should be our confidence in this Queen, knowing how powerful she is with God, and at the same time how rich and full of mercy—so much so that there is no one on earth who does not share in the mercies and favors of Mary! This the Blessed Virgin herself revealed to St. Bridget. “I am,” she said to her, “the Queen of heaven and the Mother of mercy; I am the joy of the just, and the gate of entrance for sinners to God. There is no sinner living on earth so accursed that he is deprived of my compassion; for everyone, if he receives nothing else through my intercession, receives the grace of being less tempted by evil spirits than he otherwise would be. No one, therefore, who is not entirely accursed”—by which is meant the final and irrevocable malediction pronounced against the damned—“is so entirely cast off by God that he may not return and enjoy his mercy, if he invokes my aid. I am called by all the Mother of mercy, and truly the mercy of God toward men has made me so merciful toward them.” And then she concluded by saying: “Therefore he shall be miserable, and forever miserable in the other life, who in this one—being able—does not have recourse to me, who am so compassionate to all, and so earnestly desire to aid sinners.”
Let us then have recourse—let us always have recourse—to this most sweet Queen, if we would be sure of our salvation. And if the sight of our sins terrifies and disheartens us, let us remember that Mary was made Queen of mercy for this very end: that she might save, by her protection, the greatest and most abandoned sinners who have recourse to her. They are to be her crown in heaven, as her divine Spouse has said: “Come from Libanus, my spouse, come from Libanus, come: thou shalt be crowned… from the dens of the lions, from the mountains of the leopards” (Cant. 4:8). And what are these dens of wild beasts and monsters, if not miserable sinners, whose souls have become dens of sin, the most deformed of monsters? Now by these very sinners, as Rupert the Abbot remarks, who are saved by your means, O great Queen Mary, you will be crowned in heaven; for their salvation will be your crown—a crown indeed worthy and fitting for a Queen of mercy. And let the following example illustrate this.
Example
We read in the life of Sister Catherine, an Augustinian nun, that in the place where this servant of God lived, there lived also a woman named Mary, who in her youth was a sinner, and obstinately persevered in her evil ways even into extreme old age. For this she was banished by her fellow citizens, forced to live in a cave beyond the limits of the town, and at last died in a state of loathsome corruption, abandoned by all and without the sacraments; and on this account she was buried in a field, like a beast. Now Sister Catherine, who was accustomed to commend very affectionately to God the souls of those who had departed this life, after learning of the miserable death of this poor old woman, did not think of praying for her, since she and everyone else believed her already among the damned.
Four years having passed, a soul from purgatory appeared to her one day and said: “Sister Catherine, how unhappy is my lot! You commend to God the souls of all those who die, and for my soul alone you have had no pity.” “And who are you?” said the servant of God. “I am,” she answered, “that poor Mary who died in the cave.” “What! Are you saved?” exclaimed Sister Catherine. “Yes, I am saved,” she said, “by the mercy of the Virgin Mary.” “And how?” “When I saw death drawing near, finding myself laden with sins and abandoned by all, I turned to the Mother of God and said to her: Lady, you are the refuge of the abandoned; behold me at this hour deserted by all; you are my only hope, you alone can help me; have pity on me. The holy Virgin obtained for me the grace of making an act of contrition. I died, and I am saved; and my Queen has also obtained for me the grace that my pains should be shortened, so that by suffering intensely for a short time I might pass through that purification which otherwise would have lasted many years. Only a few Masses are needed to obtain my release from purgatory. I pray you, have them offered for me, and I promise to pray to God and Mary for you.” Sister Catherine immediately had those Masses said for her; and that soul, after a few days, appeared to her again, more brilliant than the sun, and said to her: “I thank you, Sister Catherine. Behold, I am now going to paradise, to sing the mercy of God and to pray for you.”
Prayer
O Mother of my God and my Lady Mary: as a poor, wounded, and loathsome wretch presents himself to a great queen, so I present myself to you, who are the Queen of heaven and earth. From the lofty throne on which you are seated, do not disdain, I pray you, to cast your eye upon me, a poor sinner. God has made you so rich that you may succor the needy, and has made you Queen of mercy that you may help the miserable; look upon me, then, and have pity on me. Look upon me, and do not leave me until you have changed me from a sinner into a saint. I see that I merit nothing—or rather, that I merit, for my ingratitude, to be deprived of all the graces I have received from the Lord through you. But you, who are the Mother of mercy, do not require merits, but only miseries, that you may succor those who are in need; and who is more poor and more needy than I?
O glorious Virgin, I know that you, being Queen of the universe, are also my Queen; and I, in a more especial manner, would dedicate myself to your service, that you may dispose of me as seems best to you. Therefore I say to you with St. Bonaventure: O Lady, I submit myself to your control, that you may rule and govern me entirely; do not leave me to myself. Rule me, O my Queen, and do not leave me to myself. Command me, employ me as you will, and punish me if I do not obey you, for very salutary will be the punishments that come from your hand. I would esteem it a greater thing to be your servant than to be lord of the whole earth. Yours I am; save me! Accept me, O Mary, for your own, and attend to my salvation, since I am yours. I will no longer be my own; I give myself to you. And if until now I have served you so poorly, having lost so many good occasions of honoring you, for the time to come I will unite myself to your most loving and most faithful servants. From this time henceforth, let no one surpass me in honoring and loving you, my most lovely Queen. This I promise, and this I hope to fulfill with your assistance. Amen.
How Much Greater Should Be Our Confidence in Mary Because She Is Our Mother
It is not by chance, nor in vain, that the servants of Mary call her Mother. Indeed, they seem unable to invoke her by any other name, and they are never weary of calling her Mother. And rightly so, for she is truly our Mother—not according to the flesh, but the spiritual Mother of our souls and of our salvation. When sin deprived our souls of divine grace, it deprived them also of life. And so, when they were dead in misery and sin, Jesus our Redeemer came with an excess of mercy and love to restore that lost life to us by his death upon the cross, as he himself declared: “I am come that they may have life, and may have it more abundantly” (John 10:10). More abundantly, because, as the theologians teach us, Jesus Christ by his redemption brought us blessings greater than the injury Adam inflicted upon us by his sin. He reconciled us to God, and thus became the Father of our souls under the new law of grace, as the prophet Isaias foretold: “The Father of the world to come, the Prince of peace” (Isa. 9:6). But if Jesus is the Father of our souls, Mary is the Mother; for in giving us Jesus, she gave us the true life, and in offering upon Calvary the life of her Son for our salvation, she then brought us forth to the life of divine grace.
At two different times, as the holy Fathers show us, Mary became our spiritual Mother. The first was when she was found worthy of conceiving in her virginal womb the Son of God, as Blessed Albertus Magnus says. St. Bernardine of Siena teaches us this still more distinctly: when the most holy Virgin, at the annunciation of the angel, gave her consent to become the Mother of the eternal Word—a consent that he awaited before making himself her Son—she even then, by this consent, demanded our salvation of God with lively affection. So earnestly was she engaged in obtaining it that from that time she has borne us, as it were, in her womb, like a most loving mother.
St. Luke says, speaking of the birth of our Savior, that Mary “brought forth her first-born son” (Luke 2:7). Therefore, says a certain writer, if the evangelist affirms that Mary brought forth her first-born, are we to suppose that she afterward had other children? But the same author adds: if it is of faith that Mary had no other children according to the flesh except Jesus, then she must have other spiritual children, and these we are. Our Lord revealed this to St. Gertrude. Reading one day the passage of the Gospel just quoted, she was troubled, not knowing how to understand that Mary, being the Mother of Jesus Christ alone, could be said to have him as her first-born. And God explained it to her, telling her that Jesus was her first-born according to the flesh, but men were her second-born according to the spirit.
This explains what is said of Mary in the holy Canticles: “Thy belly is as a heap of wheat, set about with lilies” (Cant. 7:2). St. Ambrose explains this and says: although in the pure womb of Mary there was only one grain of wheat, which was Jesus Christ, yet it is called a heap of grain, because in that one grain were contained all the elect, of whom Mary was to be the Mother. And so William the Abbot wrote that Mary, in bringing forth Jesus, who is our Savior and our life, brought forth all of us to life and salvation.
The second time in which Mary brought us forth to grace was when, on Calvary, she offered to the eternal Father, with so much sorrow of heart, the life of her beloved Son for our salvation. And so St. Augustine asserts that, having then cooperated by her love with Christ in the birth of the faithful to the life of grace, she became also by this cooperation the spiritual Mother of us all, who are members of our head, Jesus Christ. This is also the meaning of what is said of the Blessed Virgin in the sacred Canticles: “They have made me the keeper in the vineyards; my vineyard I have not kept” (Cant. 1:5). Mary, to save our souls, was willing to sacrifice the life of her Son, as William the Abbot remarks. And who was the soul of Mary but her Jesus, who was her life and all her love? And so St. Simeon announced to her that her soul would one day be pierced by a sword of sorrow (Luke 2:35)—which was the very spear that pierced the side of Jesus, who was the soul of Mary. And then she in her sorrow brought us forth to eternal life, so that we may all call ourselves children of the sorrows of Mary. She, our most loving Mother, was always and wholly united to the divine will. And so St. Bonaventure remarks that, when she saw the love of the eternal Father for men, who would have his Son die for our salvation, and the love of the Son in wishing to die for us, she too, with her whole will, offered her Son and consented that he should die that we might be saved, in order to conform herself to that exceeding love of the Father and the Son for the human race.
It is true that, in dying for the redemption of the world, Jesus wished to be alone: “I have trodden the wine-press alone” (Isa. 63:3). But when God saw the great desire of Mary to devote herself also to the salvation of men, he ordained that, by the sacrifice and offering of the life of this same Jesus, she might cooperate with him in the work of our salvation, and thus become the Mother of our souls. This our Savior signified when, before expiring, he saw from the cross his Mother and the disciple St. John both standing near him, and first spoke to Mary: “Behold thy son” (John 19:26)—as if he said to her: Behold the man who, by the offering you have made of my life for his salvation, is already born to grace. And then, turning to the disciple, he said: “Behold thy mother” (John 19:27). By these words, says St. Bernardine of Siena, Mary was then made the Mother not only of St. John, but of all men, for the love she bore them. On this account, as Silveira observes, St. John himself, when recording this fact in his Gospel, wrote: “After that, he said to the disciple: Behold thy mother.” Let it be remarked that Jesus Christ did not say this to John, but to the disciple, to signify that the Savior appointed Mary the common Mother of all those who, being Christians, bear the name of his disciples.
“I am the mother of fair love” (Ecclus. 24:24), said Mary; because her love, as an author remarks, which renders the souls of men beautiful in the eyes of God, prompts her, as a loving Mother, to receive us for her children. And as a mother loves her children and watches over their welfare, so you, O our most sweet Queen, love us and procure our happiness, says St. Bonaventure.
Oh, happy are those who live under the protection of a Mother so loving and so powerful! The prophet David, although Mary was not yet born, besought salvation of God by dedicating himself to Mary as her son, and thus prayed: “Save the son of thy handmaid” (Ps. 85:16). Whose handmaid? asks St. Augustine. She who says: “Behold the handmaid of the Lord.” And who, says Cardinal Bellarmine, would dare to snatch these children from the bosom of Mary, where they have taken refuge from their enemies? What fury of hell or of passion can conquer them, if they place their trust in the protection of this great Mother? It is told of the whale that, when she sees her young in peril from the tempest or from their pursuers, she opens her mouth and receives them within her. Just so, says Novarino, does this compassionate Mother of the faithful act when the tempest of the passions is raging. She then, with maternal affection, protects them as it were within herself, and continues to shelter them until she has placed them in the secure haven of paradise. Oh, most loving Mother! Oh, most compassionate Mother, be ever blessed! And may that God be ever blessed who has given you to us as a Mother and as a secure refuge in all the dangers of this life.
The Blessed Virgin herself revealed this to St. Bridget, saying: “As a mother who sees her son exposed to the sword of the enemy makes every effort to save him, thus do I, and will I ever do, for my children, sinful though they be, if they come to me for help.” Behold, then, how in every battle with hell we shall always conquer, and certainly conquer, if we have recourse to the Mother of God and our Mother, always repeating: “We fly to thy protection, O holy Mother of God; we fly to thy protection, O holy Mother of God.” Oh, how many victories have the faithful obtained over hell by having recourse to Mary with this short but powerful prayer! That great servant of God, Sister Mary of the Crucifixion, a Benedictine nun, by this means always conquered the evil spirits.
Be joyful, then, all you children of Mary; remember that she adopts as her children all those who wish her for their Mother. Be joyful; for what fear have you of being lost when this Mother defends and protects you? Thus says St. Bonaventure: everyone who loves this good Mother and trusts in her protection should take courage and repeat: What do you fear, O my soul? The cause of your eternal salvation will not be lost, since the final sentence depends upon Jesus, who is your brother, and upon Mary, who is your Mother. And St. Anselm, full of joy at this thought, exclaims, in order to encourage us: Oh, blessed confidence! Oh, secure refuge! The Mother of God is my Mother also. With what certainty may we hope, since our salvation depends upon the sentence of a good brother and a kind mother! Hear, then, our Mother who calls us and says to us: “Whosoever is a little one, let him come to me” (Prov. 9:4). Little children always have the word “mother” on their lips, and in all the dangers to which they are exposed, and in all their fears, they cry, “Mother!” Ah, most sweet Mary! Ah, most loving Mother! This is exactly what you desire: that we become little children and always call upon you in our dangers, and always have recourse to you; for you wish to aid and save us, as you have saved all your children who have had recourse to you.
Example
In the history of the foundations of the Company of Jesus in the kingdom of Naples, the following story is related of a noble youth of Scotland named William Elphinstone, a relation of King James. Born a heretic, he followed the false sect to which he belonged; but, enlightened by divine grace, which showed him his errors, he went to France. There, with the assistance of a good Jesuit father, who was like himself a Scotsman, and still more by the intercession of the Blessed Virgin, he at length saw the truth, abjured heresy, and became a Catholic.
He went afterward to Rome, where a friend found him one day greatly afflicted and weeping. When asked the cause, he answered that in the night his mother had appeared to him and said: “My son, it is well for you that you have entered the true Church. I am already lost, because I died in heresy.” From that time he became more fervent in his devotion to Mary, chose her for his Mother, and by her was inspired to become a religious. He made a vow to do so; but, being ill, he went to Naples to restore his health by a change of air.
But the Lord ordained that he should die in Naples, and die a religious. Having become dangerously ill soon after his arrival, by prayers and tears he obtained admission from the superiors, and when about to receive the viaticum, he made his vows in the presence of the Blessed Sacrament and was enrolled in the society. After this, in the tenderness of his feelings, he gave thanks to his Mother Mary for having rescued him from heresy and brought him to die in the true Church, in a religious house, in the midst of his brethren. Therefore he exclaimed: “Oh, how glorious it is to die in the midst of so many angels!” Being exhorted to take a little rest, he answered: “Ah, this is not the time to rest, when the end of my life is drawing near.” Before dying, he said to those present: “Brethren, do you not see the angels of heaven around me?” One of the religious, having heard him murmuring something to himself, asked him what he had said. He answered that his guardian angel had revealed to him that he should be in purgatory but a short time, and would soon enter paradise. Then he began again to talk with his sweet Mother Mary, and, repeating the word “Mother, Mother,” he tranquilly expired, like a child falling asleep in the arms of its mother. Soon after, it was revealed to a devout religious that he had already entered paradise.
Prayer
O my most holy Mother, how is it possible that, having so holy a Mother, I should be so wicked? A Mother so inflamed with love for God, and yet I should so love creatures? A Mother so rich in virtue, and yet I should be so poor? Oh, my most amiable Mother! It is true that I no longer deserve to be your son, because by my bad life I have rendered myself unworthy. I am content if you will accept me as your servant. I am ready to renounce all the kingdoms of the earth to be admitted among the lowest of your servants. Yes, I am content; but do not forbid me to call you my Mother. This name wholly consoles me, melts me, and reminds me of my obligation to love you. This name encourages me to confide in you. When I am most terrified at the thought of my sins and of the divine justice, I feel myself comforted by the remembrance that you are my Mother. Permit me, then, to call you my Mother, my sweetest Mother. Thus I call you, and thus I will ever call you. You, next to God, shall always be my hope, my refuge, and my love in this valley of tears. And thus I hope to die, commending my soul, at the last moment, into your sacred hands, saying: “My Mother, my Mother Mary, help me, have pity on me.” Amen.
How Great Is the Love of Our Mother for Us
If, then, Mary is our Mother, let us consider how much she loves us. The love of parents for their children is a necessary love, and for this reason, as St. Thomas observes, children are commanded in the divine law to love their parents; but there is no command, on the other hand, given to parents to love their children, for love toward one’s own offspring is planted so deeply in the heart by nature herself that even the wild beasts, as St. Ambrose says, never fail to love their young. It is said that even tigers, hearing the cry of their cubs when they are taken by hunters, will plunge into the sea to swim after the vessels in which they are confined. If, then, says our most loving Mother Mary, even tigers cannot forget their young, how can I forget to love you, my children? And even if it should happen, she adds, that a mother could forget her child, it is not possible that I should forget a soul who is my child: “Can a woman forget her infant, so as not to have pity on the son of her womb? And if she should forget, yet will not I forget thee” (Isa. 49:15).
Mary is our Mother, not according to the flesh, but by love: “I am the mother of fair love” (Ecclus. 24:24). And so she becomes our Mother only because of the love she bears us; and she glories, says a certain author, in being the Mother of love, because, having taken us for her children, she is all love toward us. Who can describe the love of Mary for us poor creatures? Arnold of Chartres says that, at the death of Jesus Christ, she ardently desired to die with her Son for our sake. And so, as St. Ambrose adds, when her Son hung dying on the cross, Mary offered herself to his murderers, that she might give her life for us.
But let us consider the reasons for this love, for in this way we shall better understand how this good Mother loves us. The first reason for the great love that Mary bears to men is the great love she bears to God. Love of God and love of neighbor are contained in the same precept, as St. John has written: “This commandment we have from God, that he who loveth God love also his brother” (1 John 4:21); so that the one increases as the other increases. What, then, have the saints not done for love of their neighbor, because they loved God so much? They have gone so far as to expose and lose their liberty and even their lives for the salvation of others. Let us read what St. Francis Xavier did in India, where, for the sake of the souls of those barbarians, he climbed mountains and exposed himself to countless dangers to find those wretched beings in the caverns where they dwelt like wild beasts, and to lead them to God. St. Francis de Sales, to convert the heretics of the province of Chablais, risked his life by crossing a river every day for a year, on his hands and knees, upon a frozen beam, that he might reach the other side to preach to those stubborn men. St. Paulinus became a slave to obtain liberty for the son of a poor widow. St. Fidelis, to bring the heretics of a certain place back to God, willingly consented, in preaching to them, to lose his life. The saints, then, because they loved God so much, did much for love of their neighbor. But who has loved God more than Mary? She loved God more, in the first moment of her life, than all the saints and angels have loved him in the whole course of theirs—as we shall consider at length when we speak of the virtues of Mary. She herself revealed to Sister Mary of the Crucifixion that the fire of love with which she burned for God was so great that it would in a moment set heaven and earth aflame; and that, in comparison with it, all the flames of the burning love of the seraphim were as cool breezes. Therefore, as there is none among the blessed spirits who loves God more than Mary, so there is, and can be, none except God who loves us more than this our most loving Mother. If the love of all mothers for their children, of all husbands for their wives, and of all the saints and angels for their devoted servants were united, it would not be so great as the love that Mary bears to a single soul. Father Nieremberg says that the love which all mothers have borne to their children is a shadow compared with the love which Mary bears to any one of us. Truly, he adds, she alone loves us more than all the angels and saints united.
Moreover, our Mother loves us greatly because we were commended to her as children by her beloved Jesus, when, before he died, he said to her: “Woman, behold thy son” (John 19:26)—signifying, by the person of John, all men, as we have remarked before. These were the last words of her Son to her. The last remembrances left by beloved friends at the moment of their death are greatly valued, and the memory of them is never lost. Moreover, we are children extremely dear to Mary because we cost her so much suffering. Those children are dearer to a mother whose lives she has preserved; and we are those children, for whom, that we might have the life of grace, Mary suffered the pain of sacrificing the dear life of her Jesus, submitting, for our sake, to see him die before her eyes in cruel torments. By this great offering of Mary we were then born to the life of divine grace. And so we are children very dear to her, because we were redeemed at such a cost of suffering. Accordingly, as we read of the love which the Eternal Father has shown for men by giving his own Son to death for us—“God so loved the world as to give his only-begotten Son” (John 3:16)—so, as St. Bonaventure remarks, it may be said of Mary also that she so loved us as to give her only-begotten Son. And when did she give him to us? She gave him to us, says Father Nieremberg, when she first consented to his death; she gave him to us when others deserted him through hatred or fear, and she alone could have defended the life of her Son before the judges. We can easily believe that the words of so wise and tender a Mother would have had great power, at least with Pilate, to induce him to refrain from condemning to death a man whom he knew and declared innocent. But no—Mary would not utter even one word in favor of her Son, to prevent his death, upon which our salvation depended. Finally, she gave him to us again at the foot of the cross, in those three hours when she witnessed his death; for then, at every moment, she was offering up his life for us, with the deepest grief and the greatest love for us, at the cost of great anguish and suffering. And she did so with such firmness that, if executioners had been wanting, as St. Anselm and St. Antoninus tell us, she herself would have crucified him in obedience to the will of the Father, who had decreed that he should die for our salvation. And if Abraham showed a similar fortitude in consenting to sacrifice his son with his own hands, we must believe that Mary would certainly have done the same, and with more resolution, since she was holier and more obedient than Abraham.
But to return to our subject. How grateful we should be to Mary for an act of so much love—for the sacrifice she made of the life of her Son, in the midst of so much anguish, to obtain salvation for us all! The Lord, indeed, rewarded Abraham for the sacrifice he was prepared to make of his son Isaac; but what can we render to Mary for the life of her Jesus, since she has given us a Son more noble and beloved than the son of Abraham? This love of Mary, says St. Bonaventure, greatly obliges us to love her, seeing that she has loved us more than any other created being loves us, since she has given for us her only Son, whom she loved more than herself.
And from this follows another reason why we are so greatly loved by Mary: because she knows that we have been purchased by the death of Jesus Christ. If a mother should see a servant redeemed by a beloved son of hers, through twenty years of imprisonment and suffering, for this reason alone how much would she esteem that servant! Mary well knows that her Son came upon earth solely to save us poor sinners, as he himself declared: “The Son of man is come to seek and to save that which was lost” (Luke 19:10). And to save us he consented to lay down his life for us, “becoming obedient unto death” (Phil. 2:8). If Mary, then, had little love for us, she would set little value on the blood of her Son, which was the price of our salvation. It was revealed to St. Elizabeth, the nun, that Mary, from the time she was in the temple, was always praying that God would quickly send his Son to save the world. Now how much more certainly must we believe that she loves us, after she has seen us so greatly prized by her Son, that he deigned to purchase us at such a cost!
And because all men have been redeemed by Jesus, Mary loves and favors all. She was seen by St. John clothed with the sun: “And a great sign appeared in heaven: A woman clothed with the sun” (Apoc. 12:1). She is said to be clothed with the sun because, as “there is no one that can hide himself from his heat” (Ps. 18:7), so there is no one living on the earth who is deprived of the love of Mary. “From his heat,” as the venerable Raymond Jordan explains (who through humility called himself “the Idiot”), means from the love of Mary. And who, says St. Antoninus, can comprehend the care which this loving Mother has for us all? To all she offers and dispenses her mercy. For our Mother has desired the salvation of all, and has cooperated with her Son in the salvation of all.
It is certain that she is concerned for the whole human race, as St. Bernard affirms; and so the practice of some devout servants of Mary is very useful, who, as Cornelius a Lapide relates, have the habit of praying our Lord to grant them those graces which the Blessed Virgin is seeking for them, using these words: “O Lord, give me what the most holy Virgin Mary is asking for me.” And this is well, as a Lapide adds, for our Mother desires greater things for us than we think of asking for ourselves. The devout Bernardine de Bustis says that Mary is more desirous to do us good and to bestow favors upon us than we are to receive them. Therefore Blessed Albert the Great applies to Mary the words of Wisdom: “She preventeth them that covet her, so that she first showeth herself unto them” (Wisd. 6:14). So great is the love, says Richard of St. Laurence, which this good Mother bears us, that when she perceives our needs, she comes to relieve them: she hastens before she is invoked.
If Mary, then, is good to all—even to the ungrateful and the negligent, who have little love for her and seldom have recourse to her—how much more loving must she be to those who love her and often invoke her! “She is easily seen by them that love her” (Wisd. 6:13). Oh, how easy it is, exclaims the same Blessed Albert, for those who love Mary to find her, and to find her full of love and pity! “I love them that love me” (Prov. 8:17), she assures us, and so she declares that she cannot but love those who love her. And although our most loving Lady loves all men as her children, yet, says St. Bernard, she recognizes and loves especially those who love her most tenderly. Those happy lovers of Mary, as the Idiot asserts, are not only loved by her, but served by her.
Leonard the Dominican, as we read in the chronicles of his order, was accustomed to commend himself two hundred times a day to this Mother of mercy. When he was on his deathbed, he saw one beautiful as a queen by his side, who said to him: “Leonard, do you wish to die and come to my Son and me?” “Who are you?” answered the religious. “I am the Mother of mercy,” replied the Virgin; “you have invoked me many times, and now I come to take you: let us go to paradise.” On that same day Leonard died, and we hope that he followed her to the kingdom of the blessed.
“Ah, most sweet Mary, blessed is he who loves you!” the venerable Brother John Berchmans, of the Society of Jesus, used to say. “If I love Mary, I am sure of perseverance, and I shall obtain from God whatever I wish.” And this devout youth was never satisfied with renewing his intention, and often repeated to himself: “I will love Mary, I will love Mary.”
Oh, how much this our good Mother exceeds all her children in affection, even when they love her to the utmost of their power! “Mary is always more loving than her lovers,” says St. Ignatius the Martyr. Let us love her as much as St. Stanislaus Kostka loved her, who loved this his dear Mother so tenderly that, when he spoke of her, everyone who heard him desired to love her also. He invented new titles by which to honor her name; he never began an action without first turning to her image and asking her blessing. When he recited her office, her rosary, and other prayers, he repeated them with such affectionate earnestness that he seemed to be speaking face to face with Mary. When he heard the Salve Regina sung, his soul and even his countenance were all on fire. One day a father of the society, as they were going together to visit an altar of the Blessed Virgin, asked him how much he loved her. “Father,” he answered, “what can I say more than that she is my Mother?” And that father tells us how the holy youth spoke these words with such tender emotion of voice, countenance, and heart, that he seemed not a man, but an angel discoursing on the love of Mary.
Let us love her as much as Blessed Hermann, who called her his beloved spouse, and was himself honored by Mary with the same name. As much as St. Philip Neri, who felt wholly consoled in merely thinking of Mary, and on this account named her his delight. As much as St. Bonaventure, who not only called her his Lady and Mother, but, to show the tender affection he bore her, went so far as to call her his heart and his soul: “Hail, Lady, my Mother; yea, my heart, my soul.” Let us love her as much as her great lover St. Bernard, who loved his sweet Mother so much that he called her “the thief of hearts”; and so the saint, to express to her the ardent love he bore her, said to her: “Have you not stolen my heart?” Let us call her our beloved, as St. Bernardine of Siena called her, who went every day to visit her before her sacred image, in order to declare his love in the tender conversations he held with his Queen. When he was asked where he went every day, he answered that he went to find his beloved. Let us love her as much as St. Aloysius Gonzaga, who burned continually with so great a love of Mary that, as soon as he heard the sound of the sweet name of his dear Mother, his heart kindled, and a flame visible to all lit up his countenance. Let us love her like St. Francis Solano, who, carried away by a holy passion for Mary, sometimes went with a musical instrument to sing of love before her altar, saying that, like earthly lovers, he was serenading his beloved Queen.
Let us love her as so many of her servants have loved her, who could think of nothing more to do to show her their love. Father Jerome of Trexo, of the Society of Jesus, delighted in calling himself the slave of Mary, and as a mark of his servitude went often to visit her in a church. And what did he do there? He watered the church with the tears of that tender love which he felt for Mary; then he wiped them up with his lips, kissing that pavement a thousand times, remembering that it was the house of his beloved Lady. Father Diego Martinez, of the same society, on account of his devotion to our Lady, was on the feasts of Mary carried by angels to heaven, that he might see with how much devotion they were celebrated there; and he said: “Would that I had all the hearts of the angels and the saints to love Mary as they love her! Would that I had the lives of all men, to devote them all to the love of Mary!” Let others love her as Charles, the son of St. Bridget, loved her, who said that he knew of nothing in the world which gave him so much consolation as the thought of how much Mary was loved by God; and he added that he would accept every suffering rather than that Mary should lose—if it were possible for her to lose it—the least portion of her greatness; and that if the greatness of Mary were his, he would renounce it in her behalf, because she was more worthy of it. Let us desire to sacrifice our life in testimony of our love for Mary, as Alphonsus Rodriguez desired to do. Let us, like Francesco Binanzio, a religious, and Radegund, wife of King Clotaire, engrave with sharp instruments of iron upon our breast the sweet name of Mary. Let us, with red-hot iron, impress the beloved name upon our flesh, that it may be more distinct and more enduring, as did her devoted servants Battista Archinto and Agostino d’Espinosa, both of the Company of Jesus.
If, then, the lovers of Mary imitate, as far as possible, those lovers who strive to make their affection known to the one they love, they can never love her as much as she loves them. “I know, O Lady,” said St. Peter Damian, “how loving you are, and that you love us with an unconquerable love.” The venerable Alphonsus Rodriguez, of the Society of Jesus, was once standing before an image of Mary; and there, burning with love for the most holy Virgin, he broke forth into these words: “My most amiable Mother, I know that you love me, but you do not love me so much as I love you.” Then Mary, as if wounded in her love, spoke to him from that image and said: “What do you say—what do you say, O Alphonsus? Oh, how much greater is the love I bear you than the love you bear me! Know that the distance from heaven to earth is not so great as the distance from my love to yours.”
With how much reason, then, did St. Bonaventure exclaim: Blessed are those whose lot it is to be the faithful servants and lovers of this most loving Mother! For this most grateful Queen is never surpassed in love by her devoted servants. In this Mary imitates our loving Redeemer Jesus Christ, making, by her favors, a twofold return to whoever loves her. I will exclaim, then, with the enamored St. Anselm: May my heart languish, may my soul melt with your never-failing love. May my heart always burn and my soul be consumed with love for you, O Jesus, my beloved Savior, and you, my dear Mother Mary. Grant, then, O Jesus and Mary, since without your grace I cannot love you, grant to my soul—not through my own merits, but through yours—that I may love you as you deserve. O God, the lover of men, you died for your enemies; and can you deny to him who asks it the grace of loving you and your Mother?
Example
Father Auriemma relates that a poor shepherdess loved Mary so much that all her delight was to go to a little chapel of our Lady on a mountain, and there in solitude, while her sheep were feeding, to converse with her beloved Mother and pay her devotion. When she saw that the figure of Mary, carved in relief, was unadorned, she began, by the poor labor of her hands, to make a covering for it. Having gathered some flowers in the fields one day, she wove them into a garland, and then, ascending to the altar of that little chapel, placed it on the head of the figure, saying: “O my Mother, I would that I could place on your head a crown of gold and gems; but as I am poor, receive from me this poor crown of flowers, and accept it as a token of the love I bear you.” Thus this devout maiden always endeavored to serve and honor her beloved Lady.
But let us see how our good Mother, on the other hand, rewarded the visits and the affection of her child. The girl fell ill, and was near her end. It happened that two religious passing that way, weary with traveling, stopped to rest under a tree. One fell asleep and the other kept watch, but both had the same vision. They saw a company of beautiful virgins, and among them was one who, in loveliness and majesty, surpassed the rest. One of the brothers addressed her and said: “Lady, who are you? And where are you going?” “I am the Mother of God,” she replied, “and I am going to the neighboring village, with these holy virgins, to visit a dying shepherdess who has many times visited me.” Having said this, she disappeared. These two good servants of God resolved to go and visit her also. They went toward the place where the dying maiden lived, entered a small cottage, and there found her lying upon a little straw. They greeted her, and she said to them: “Brothers, ask of God that he may permit you to see the company that surrounds me.” They were quickly on their knees, and saw Mary, with a crown in her hand, by the side of the dying girl, consoling her. Then those holy virgins began to sing, and with that sweet music the blessed soul was released from the body. Mary crowned her, and took her soul with her to paradise.
Prayer
O Lady, Thief of hearts! I would exclaim with St. Bonaventure: you who, with the love and favor you bestow upon your servants, steal their hearts—take my poor heart also, which so earnestly desires to love you. You, O my Mother, with your beauty have enamored a God, and have drawn him from heaven into your bosom; and shall I live without loving you? No. I will say to you, with your loving child John Berchmans: “I will never rest until I have attained a tender love for my Mother Mary.” No, I will not rest until I am certain of having obtained a love—a constant and tender love—for you, my Mother, who have loved me with so much tenderness even when I was so ungrateful toward you.
And where should I now be, O Mary, if you had not loved me and obtained so many favors for me? If, then, you loved me so much when I did not love you, how much more may I confide in your goodness now that I love you? I love you, O my Mother, and I would wish for a heart capable of loving you for all those unhappy beings who do not love you. Would that my tongue could praise you with the power of a thousand tongues, to make known your greatness, your holiness, your mercy, and the love with which you love those who love you! If I had riches, I would employ them all for your honor; if I had subjects, I would make them all your lovers; for you and for your glory I would give my life, if it were required.
I love you, O my Mother, but at the same time I fear that you do not love me, for I have heard that love makes lovers like those they love. If, then, I find myself so unlike you, it is a proof that I do not love you. You so pure, and I so unclean; you so humble, and I so proud; you so holy, and I so sinful. But this, O Mary, is to be your work: since you love me, make me like yourself. You have the power to change hearts; take mine, then, and change it. Let the world see what you can do for those who love you. Make me holy; make me worthy of your Son. Thus I hope; thus may it be.
Mary Is Also the Mother of Penitent Sinners
Mary assured St. Bridget that she is the Mother not only of the just and innocent, but also of sinners, provided they desire to amend. When a sinner becomes penitent and throws himself at her feet, he finds this good Mother of mercy more ready to embrace and aid him than any earthly mother could be. This is what St. Gregory wrote to the Princess Matilda: “Resolve to cease from sin, and I confidently promise that you will find Mary more ready than an earthly mother to love you.” But whoever aspires to be the child of this great Mother must first leave off sinning, and then may hope to be accepted as her child. Richard of St. Laurence, commenting on the words “Her children rose up” (Prov. 31:28), observes that in the Latin the word rose up comes first, and then children; because no one can be a child of Mary who does not first rise from the iniquity into which he has fallen. For, as St. Peter Chrysologus says, he who does works contrary to those of Mary denies, by such conduct, that he wishes to be her child. Mary is humble: will he be proud? Mary is pure: will he be impure? Mary is full of love: will he hate his neighbor? He proves that he is not, and does not wish to be, the child of this holy Mother when he so deeply grieves her by his life. The children of Mary, Richard repeats, are her imitators in chastity, humility, meekness, and mercy. And how can he who so grieves her by his life dare to call himself the child of Mary? A certain sinner once said to her, “Show yourself a Mother”; but the Virgin answered him, “Show yourself a son.” Another, one day, invoked this divine Mother, calling her Mother of mercy. But Mary said to him: “When you sinners wish me to aid you, you call me Mother of mercy; and yet by your sins you make me a Mother of misery and grief.” “He is cursed of God that angereth his mother” (Ecclus. 3:18). His mother—that is, Mary, remarks Richard. God curses everyone who afflicts this his good Mother by a bad life or by willful obstinacy.
I have said willful obstinacy, for when a sinner, although he may not yet have left his sins, makes an effort to quit them and seeks the aid of Mary, this Mother will not fail to assist him and bring him to the grace of God. St. Bridget once learned this from Jesus Christ himself, who, speaking with his Mother, said: “You aid those who are striving to rise to God, and you leave no soul without your consolation.” While the sinner remains obstinate, Mary cannot love him; but if he finds himself bound by some passion that makes him a slave of hell, and will commend himself to the Virgin and implore her with confidence and perseverance to rescue him from his sin, this good Mother will not fail to stretch out her powerful hand. She will loose his chains and bring him to a state of safety. It is a heresy, condemned by the sacred Council of Trent, to say that all the prayers and works of a person in a state of sin are sins. St. Bernard says that the prayer of a sinner, although without supernatural worth—since it is not accompanied by charity—is yet useful and effective in obtaining release from sin. For, as St. Thomas teaches, the prayer of the sinner is indeed without merit, but it serves to obtain the grace of pardon; since the power of obtaining it is based not upon the worth of him who prays, but upon the divine goodness, and upon the merits and promise of Jesus Christ, who has said, “Everyone that asketh receiveth” (Luke 11:10). The same may be said of the prayers offered to the divine Mother. If he who prays, says St. Anselm, does not deserve to be heard, the merits of Mary, to whom he commends himself, will cause him to be heard. And so St. Bernard exhorts every sinner to pray to Mary, and to feel great confidence in praying to her; because even if he does not deserve what he asks, Mary obtains it for him by her own merits, asking it of God on his behalf. The office of a good mother, says the same saint, is this: if a mother knew that her two sons were deadly enemies, and that one was plotting against the life of the other, what would she do but try in every way to reconcile them? Just so, says the saint, Mary is the Mother of Jesus and the Mother of man; and when she sees anyone made by his sin an enemy of Jesus Christ, she cannot endure it, and makes every effort to reconcile them. Our most indulgent Lady requires only that the sinner commend himself to her and have the intention to reform. When she sees a sinner coming to implore mercy at her feet, she does not regard the sins with which he is laden, but the intention with which he comes. If he comes with a good intention, though he have committed all the sins in the world, she embraces him, and this most loving Mother stoops to heal all the wounds of his soul. For she is not only called by us the Mother of mercy, but she truly is such, and shows herself such by the love and tenderness with which she helps us. The Blessed Virgin herself expressed all this to St. Bridget when she said to her: “However great a man’s sins may be, the moment he turns to me I am ready to receive him. I do not consider how much he has sinned, but with what intention he comes; for I do not disdain to anoint and heal his wounds, because I am called, and truly am, the Mother of mercy.”
Mary is the Mother of sinners who desire to be converted, and as a Mother she cannot but have compassion on them; indeed, she seems to regard the woes of her poor children as her own. When the woman of Canaan implored Jesus Christ to free her daughter from the demon that tormented her, she said: “Have mercy on me, O Lord, thou son of David; my daughter is grievously troubled by a devil” (Matt. 15:22). But since the daughter, not the mother, was tormented by the devil, it would seem she should have said, “O Lord, have mercy on my daughter,” not “have mercy on me.” Yet no—she said, “Have mercy on me”; and with reason, for all the miseries of children are felt as their own by their mothers. Exactly so does Mary pray to God, says Richard of St. Laurence, when she commends to him a sinner who has commended himself to her: “Have mercy on me.” It is as if she said: My Lord, this poor creature who is in sin is my child; have pity on him—not so much on him as on me, who am his Mother. Oh, would to God that all sinners would have recourse to this sweet Mother, for all would certainly be pardoned by God! O Mary, exclaims St. Bonaventure in wonder, you embrace with a mother’s affection the sinner despised by the whole world, and you do not leave him until he is reconciled to his Judge! The saint means that the sinner who remains in sin is hated and rejected by all; even inanimate creatures—fire, air, the earth—would punish him and take vengeance upon him in order to repair the honor of their insulted Lord. But if this wretch has recourse to Mary, does she banish him from her presence? No: if he comes asking for help and intending to amend, she embraces him with a mother’s affection, and does not leave him until she has reconciled him to God by her powerful intercession and re-established him in his grace.
We read in the second book of Kings that the wise woman of Thecua said to David: “My lord, I had two sons, and to my misfortune one has killed the other, so that I have already lost one child; and now justice would take from me my other and only son. Have pity on me, a poor mother, and do not let me be deprived of both my children.” Then David had compassion on this mother, freed the guilty son, and restored him to her. It seems that Mary offers the same petition when God is angry with a sinner who has recourse to her: O my God, she says, I had two sons, Jesus and man; man has slain my Jesus on the cross. Your justice would now condemn man; but, my Lord, my Jesus is dead. Have mercy on me, and if I have lost the one, do not condemn me to lose the other also. Surely God does not condemn those sinners who have recourse to Mary, and for whom she prays; since God himself has given these sinners to Mary as her children. The devout Lanspergius puts these words into the mouth of our Lord: I have commended sinners to Mary as her children. And so she is so watchful in the performance of her office that she allows none who are committed to her care to be lost—especially those who invoke her—but uses all her power to lead them back to me. And who can describe, says Blosius, the goodness, the mercy, the faithfulness, and the charity with which this our Mother strives to save us when we invoke her aid? Let us prostrate ourselves, then, says St. Bernard, before this good Mother; let us cling to her sacred feet and not leave her until she gives us her blessing and accepts us for her children. Who could distrust the goodness of this Mother? said St. Bonaventure. Though she should slay me, I will hope in her; and, confident in my trust, I would wish to die before her image and be saved. And thus should every sinner say who has recourse to this kind Mother: O my Lady and Mother, for my faults I deserve that you should banish me from your presence and punish me for my sins; but even if you should cast me off and slay me, I shall never lose confidence in you and in your power to save me. In you I entirely trust; and if it be my lot to die before some image of yours, commending myself to your compassion, I should have a sure hope of my salvation, and of going to praise you in heaven, united to all your servants who called on you for aid in death and were saved. Let the following example be read, and let the reader judge whether any sinner can distrust the mercy and love of this good Mother, if he has recourse to her.
Example
Belluacensis relates that in Ridolfo, a city of England, in the year 1430, there lived a young nobleman named Ernest, who gave all his patrimony to the poor and entered a monastery, where he led so holy a life that he was greatly esteemed by his superiors, especially for his particular devotion to the most holy Virgin. It happened that a pestilence broke out in that city, and the citizens had recourse to the monastery to ask the prayers of the monks. The abbot ordered Ernest to go and pray before the altar of Mary, and not to leave it until she had given him an answer. The youth remained there three days, and received from Mary, in answer, certain prayers that were to be said. They were said, and the plague ceased.
It happened afterward that this youth grew less ardent in his devotion to Mary. The devil assailed him with many temptations, especially to impurity and to a desire to flee from the monastery; and having neglected to commend himself to Mary, he resolved to take flight by casting himself from the monastery wall. But as he passed before an image of the Virgin that stood in the corridor, the Mother of God spoke to him and said: “My son, why do you leave me?” Ernest was overwhelmed with surprise, and, filled with compunction, fell to the ground, saying: “My Lady, behold, I have no power to resist; why do you not aid me?” And the Madonna replied: “Why have you not invoked me? If you had sought my protection, you would not have come to this. From this day, commend yourself to me, and have confidence.”
Ernest returned to his cell; but the temptations returned as well, and again he neglected to call on Mary for help. At last he fled from the monastery, and, leading a wicked life, he went on from one sin to another until he became a murderer. He rented an inn, where at night he killed unfortunate travelers and stripped them of all they had. One night, among others, he killed the cousin of the governor of the place, who, after examination and trial, condemned him to the gallows. But while the trial was still proceeding, a young traveler arrived at the inn, and the host, as usual, laid his plans and entered the man’s chamber to murder him. But on approaching the bed, he found the young man gone, and in his place a Christ upon the cross, covered with wounds. Our Lord, looking on him with compassion, said: “Is it not enough that I have died once for you? Do you wish to slay me again? Do it, then; lift your hand and kill me!” Then poor Ernest, covered with confusion, began to weep, and cried out: “O Lord, behold me ready to return to you, who have shown me so much mercy.”
He left the inn at once to go back to the monastery and do penance; but the officers of justice overtook him on the way. He was brought before the judge, and in his presence confessed all the murders he had committed. He was at once condemned to death, without even being allowed time for confession. He commended himself to Mary. He was hanged upon the gallows, but the Virgin prevented his death. She herself released him and said to him: “Return to the monastery; do penance; and when you shall see in my hand a paper containing the pardon of your sins, then prepare to die.” Ernest returned, and, having related all to the abbot, did great penance. After many years, he saw in the hand of Mary the paper containing his pardon. He then prepared for his last end, and died a holy death.
Prayer
O Mary, sovereign Queen and worthy Mother of my God, most holy Mary! Finding myself so vile, so laden with sin, I dare not approach you and call you Mother. Yet I cannot let my miseries deprive me of the consolation and confidence I feel in calling you Mother. I know that I deserve to be rejected by you; but I pray you to consider what your Son Jesus has done and suffered for me, and then cast me from you if you can. I am a poor sinner who, more than others, have despised the divine Majesty; but the evil is already done. To you I have recourse: you can help me; O my Mother, help me. Do not say that you cannot aid me, for I know that you are all-powerful with God, and obtain whatever you desire of him. And if you say that you will not help me, then at least tell me to whom I may have recourse for relief in my deep distress.
With St. Anselm I will say to you, and to your Son: Have pity on me, O my Redeemer, and pardon me; and you, my Mother, recommend me for pardon, or teach me to whom I may have recourse who is more compassionate than you, and in whom I may place greater confidence. No—neither in heaven nor on earth can I find one who has more compassion for the wretched, or who can aid me more, than you. You, O Jesus, are my Father, and you, O Mary, are my Mother. You love those who are most wretched, and you seek to save them. I am worthy of hell, and of all beings the most miserable; you need not seek me, nor do I ask you to seek me. I present myself to you with a sure hope that I shall not be abandoned by you. Behold me at your feet: my Jesus, pardon me; my Mary, help me. Amen.
Points for Reflection
1. “Although she is Queen, she is not a queen of justice, intent upon the punishment of the guilty, but a Queen of mercy, intent solely upon compassion and pardon for sinners.”
2. “But if Jesus is the Father of our souls, Mary is the Mother; for in giving us Jesus, she gave us the true life.”
3. “When a sinner becomes penitent and throws himself at her feet, he finds this good Mother of mercy more ready to embrace and aid him than any earthly mother could be.”