Good Friday

On the Sorrows of Mary

“Now there stood by the cross of Jesus, his mother.”—John 19:25

Behold, today we admire a new kind of martyrdom: we behold a mother destined to see her innocent son die, executed as a criminal upon an infamous gibbet. This mother is Mary, who is called by the holy Church, with very good reason, the Queen of Martyrs, for Mary, in the death of Jesus Christ, suffered a martyrdom more sorrowful than that which all the holy martyrs have endured; and her martyrdom was:

First Point.—A martyrdom without equal.

Second Point.—A martyrdom without comfort.

First Point.—A martyrdom without equal.

1. Consider the words of the Prophet Jeremiah: “To what shall I compare you? To what shall I liken you, O daughter of Jerusalem?… Great as the sea is your affliction; who can heal you?” (Lam. 2:13). No, the bitterness of the sorrows of Mary cannot be compared with the sufferings of all the martyrs. The martyrdom of Mary was wrought, says St. Bernard, non ferro carnificis, sed acerbo dolore cordis—“not by the iron of the executioner, but by the bitter sorrow of the heart.” In the other martyrs the pain was in the flesh, but the sorrow of Mary was in her heart and soul, fulfilling the prophecy of St. Simeon, who said to her: “And thy own soul a sword shall pierce” (Luke 2:35).

2. Arnold of Chartres writes that whoever had been present on Mount Calvary, when the spotless Lamb sacrificed his life on the cross, would have observed there two altars of sacrifice: one in the body of Jesus, the other in the heart of Mary. For at the very moment in which the Son sacrificed his body by death, Mary sacrificed her soul by compassion for her Son: Nimirum in tabernaculo illo duo videret altaria: aliud in pectore Matris, aliud in corpore Christi; Christus carnem, Maria immolabat Animam—“Truly in that tabernacle one would see two altars: one in the breast of the Mother, the other in the body of Christ; Christ immolated the flesh, Mary immolated the soul.”

Hence St. Antoninus says that whereas the other martyrs sacrificed their own life, the Virgin consummated her martyrdom by sacrificing the life of her Son, whom she loved far more than her own life; and this made her pain surpass all other pain that any mortal man has ever suffered upon this earth.

3. It is an ordinary thing that the sufferings of children are also the sufferings of the mothers who are present to see them suffer. St. Augustine explains this, considering the mother of the Maccabees, who was present at the martyrdom of her sons ordered by the impious Antiochus; he says that love made her suffer all the torments that each of her sons suffered: Illa videndo, in omnibus passa est, quia amabat omnes; ferebat in oculis, quod in carne omnes—“She, by seeing them, suffered in all, because she loved all; she bore in her eyes what they bore in their flesh.” Erasmus adds: Parentes atrocius torquentur in liberis, quam in seipsis—“Parents are more cruelly tormented in their children than in themselves.”

Even though this does not always prove true in other mothers, it was certainly true in Mary, who suffered more in seeing her Son suffer than if she had suffered all the pains of her Son in herself. St. Bonaventure says that all the wounds that were scattered through the body of Jesus were found united in the heart of Mary to afflict her in the Passion of Jesus: Singula vulnera per ejus Corpus dispersa, in uno Corde sunt unita—“All the wounds scattered through his body were united in one heart.” St. Lawrence Justinian writes that the heart of Mary, through compassion for her Son, became a mirror of the sorrows of Jesus, in which were seen depicted all the torments and insults suffered by Jesus Christ: Passionis Christi speculum effectiva erat Cor Virginis; in illo agnoscebatur sputa, convicia, verbera, vulnera—“The heart of the Virgin became a mirror of the Passion of Christ; in it were recognized the spittle, the insults, the scourges, the wounds.”

Thus Mary in the Passion of her Son was, in her heart, through the love she bore him, struck, scourged, crowned with thorns, and nailed to the same cross of her Son.

4. The same St. Lawrence contemplates Jesus as he goes with the cross to Calvary, sees his afflicted Mother following him, turns to her, and says: Heu, quo properas, quo venis Mater? cruciatu meo cruciaberis, & ego tuo—“Ah, my Mother, stop, where are you hastening? Where are you coming? If you come to the place of my torment, there you will be tormented with my torments, and I will be afflicted with your affliction.” Yet the loving Mother did not cease to follow him, though she knew that being present at his death would cost her a pain greater than any death. She sees that her Son carries the cross to be crucified upon it, and she too takes up the cross of her sorrow and follows her Son to be crucified with him: Tollebat & Mater crucem suam, & sequebatur eum, crucifigenda cum ipso—“The Mother also took up her cross, and followed him, to be crucified with him.”

Hence St. Bonaventure, considering Mary as she stood beside her dying Son, asks her: O Domina mea ubi stabas? nunquid tantum juxta Crucem? imo in Cruce cum Filio crucifixa eras—“O my Lady, where were you standing? Only beside the Cross? No, you were standing on the Cross, crucified with your Son.”

5. The other martyrs, to denote the death they died, are each depicted with the instrument of their Passion: St. Andrew with the cross, St. Paul with the sword, St. Lawrence with the gridiron. But Mary is depicted with her dead Son in her arms, because none other than her Son was the instrument of her martyrdom, since the compassion for her Son made her Queen of Martyrs.

On this point of Mary’s compassion in the death of Jesus Christ, an author (Pinamonti) writes a noble and singular sentiment: he says that so great was Mary’s sorrow in the Passion of her Son that she alone could worthily compassionate the death of a God made man for love of men. Blessed Amadeus also wrote that Mary was afflicted much more by the Passion of her Son than if she had suffered it in herself, since she loved her Jesus much more than she loved herself: Maria torquebatur magis, quam si torqueretur in se; quia super se incomparabiliter diligebat id, unde dolebat—“Mary was tormented more than if she had been tormented in herself; because she loved incomparably more than herself that from which she grieved.” For, as St. Bernard says, the soul is more where it loves than where it gives life: Anima magis est ubi amat, quam ubi animat; whence the Gospel: Ubi thesaurus vester est, ibi et cor vestrum erit—“Where your treasure is, there will your heart be also.”

Hence St. Hildefonsus did not hesitate to assert that to say the sorrows of Mary surpassed all the torments of the martyrs combined is to say little: Parum est, Mariam in Passione Filii tam acerbos pertulisse dolores, cum omnium Martyrum collective tormenta superasset. And St. Anselm, speaking with the Blessed Virgin, says to her: Quicquid crudelitatis inflictum est corporibus Martyrum, leve fuit, aut potius nihil comparatione tuae Passionis—“Whatever cruelty was inflicted on the bodies of the martyrs was light, or rather nothing, in comparison to your Passion.” The same Saint adds: Utique, Domina, non crediderim, Te potuisse stimulos tanti cruciatus, quin vitam amitteres, sustinere, nisi ipse Spiritus tui Filii Te confortaret—“Truly, O Lady, I would not believe that you could have endured such great anguish without losing your life, unless the very Spirit of your Son had strengthened you.” And St. Basil likewise wrote that, as the sun surpasses in splendor all the other stars, so Mary by her sufferings surpassed those of all the other martyrs: Virgo universos martyres tantum excedit, quantum sol reliqua astra—“the Virgin surpasses all the martyrs as far as the sun surpasses the other stars.”

And St. Bernardine of Siena went so far as to say: Tantus fuit dolor Virginis, quod si inter omnes creaturas, quae dolorem pati possunt, divideretur, omnes subito interirent—“So great was the sorrow of the Virgin that if it were divided among all creatures capable of suffering pain, all would instantly perish.” Who then can doubt that the martyrdom of Mary was without equal and surpassed the sufferings of all the martyrs, since, as St. Antoninus says, the martyrs suffered by sacrificing their own life, but the Virgin suffered by sacrificing to God the life of her Son, whom she loved far more than her own life?

Second Point.—A martyrdom without comfort.

6. The martyrs suffered in the torments inflicted on them by tyrants, but the Lord, who never abandons his servants, did not fail to console them at the very time they were suffering. The love of God that burned in their hearts made all their pains sweet and lovable. St. Vincent suffered while he lay on the rack, torn by iron hooks, burned by red-hot plates; but St. Augustine says that the Saint spoke with such contempt of his torments that alius videbatur pati, alius loqui—“it seemed one person was suffering and another speaking.” St. Boniface suffered when his body was mangled by iron instruments, sharp reeds were placed between his nails and flesh, and molten lead was poured into his mouth; yet he did not cease at that time to thank Jesus Christ for allowing him to suffer for his love. St. Lawrence suffered, burning on the gridiron, but the love that inflamed him, as St. Augustine says, did not let him feel the torment of the fire, nor even death itself: In illa longa morte, in illis tormentis, tormenta non sensit—“In that long death, in those torments, he did not feel the torments.”

Thus the holy martyrs—the greater their love for Jesus, the less they felt their pains; so that in their sufferings the mere memory of the Passion of Jesus Christ was enough to console them. Quite the opposite happened with Mary, for the pains of her Jesus composed her martyrdom, and her love for Jesus was her only executioner. Here we must repeat the words of Jeremiah: Magna est velut mare contritio tua, quis medebitur tui?—“Great as the sea is your affliction; who can heal you?” As the sea is all bitter and has not a drop that is sweet, so the heart of Mary was all full of bitterness without a drop of relief. Quis medebitur tui?—“Who can heal you?” Only her Son could console her and heal her wounds; but how could Mary receive comfort from her crucified Son in her sorrow, if her Son, because of the love she bore him, was the entire cause of her martyrdom?

7. To understand, then, how great was the sorrow of Mary, we must understand, says Cornelius à Lapide, how great was the love that Mary bore him: Ut scias quantus fuerit dolor B. Virginis, cogita quantus fuerit amor—“To know how great was the sorrow of the Blessed Virgin, consider how great was her love.” But who can measure this love? Blessed Amadeus considered that in the heart of Mary were joined the natural love for her Son and the supernatural love for her God: Duae dilectiones in unum connexerant, & ex duobus amoribus factus est unus—“Two loves were joined into one, and from two loves one love was made.” Of two loves one was made, but so great that William of Paris did not hesitate to assert that Mary came to love Jesus quantum capere potuit puri hominis modus—“as much as the capacity of a mere man could contain.”

Since, therefore, there has not been love of creature toward God like that of Mary, so there has not been sorrow equal to the sorrow of Mary: Unde sicut non fuit amor sicut amor ejus, ita non fuit dolor sicut dolor ejus—“Therefore as there was no love like her love, so there was no sorrow like her sorrow.”

8. Stabat autem juxta crucem Jesu Mater ejus—“Now there stood by the cross of Jesus, his mother” (John 19:25). Let us pause a moment to consider those words before finishing the sermon, and then we will conclude; but here I beg you to renew your attention.

Stabat—she stood. When Jesus was on the cross, the disciples had already abandoned him, ever since he was taken in the Garden: Omnes relicto eo fugerunt—“All, leaving him, fled” (Matt. 26:56). The disciples abandoned him, but his loving Mother did not abandon him; she wished to stand by him until she saw him expire. Stabat juxta—“she stood beside.” Mothers flee when they see their sons suffering greatly and they cannot help them; they have not the strength then to endure such pain, and so they flee and go far away. But Mary looks at her Son, who is dying on the cross, sees that those pains are taking away his life; she would wish to relieve him in that extremity, but it is not permitted her; yet she does not flee, nor does she go away, but draws nearer to the cross where her Son is dying. Stabat juxta crucem—“she stood beside the cross”.

The cross was the hard death bed given to Jesus Christ. Mary, who stands beside him, does not take her eyes from him, she sees him all torn by scourges, by thorns, and by nails. She observes that her poor Son, hanging from those three iron hooks, finds no rest; she would wish, as I said, to give him some relief, she would at least wish to let him die in her arms, but all is forbidden her. “Ah Cross,” she says, “give me back my Son; you are a gibbet for evildoers, but my Son is innocent.” But be at peace, O sorrowful Mother, it is the will of God that the cross not return this Son to you until after he has expired.

9. St. Bonaventure writes, considering the sorrow of Mary in the death of her Son: Nullus dolor amarior, quia nulla proles carior—“No sorrow is more bitter, because no child is more dear.” If, therefore, there has never been a Son more lovable than Jesus, nor a Mother more loving than Mary, what sorrow can be compared with the sorrow of Mary? Non fuit talis Filius, non fuit talis Mater: non fuit tanta caritas, non fuit dolor tantus. Ideo quanto dilexit tenerius, tanto vulnerata est profundius—“There was never such a Son, never such a Mother; never such charity, never such sorrow. Therefore the more tenderly she loved, the more deeply she was wounded.”

Mary saw that her Son was now approaching death; and so, looking at him with pitying eyes, it seemed she said to him: “Ah Son, you are departing now, you are leaving me, and you say nothing to me? Leave me some remembrance of you.” Behold the remembrance that Jesus Christ left her: Mulier, he said, “Woman, behold thy son,” pointing to St. John who stood near her; and with those words he took leave of his Mother. He called her Woman, Mulier, so as not to increase her sorrow by calling her Mother. “Woman, behold thy son; he will assist you after I am dead.”

10. Stabat juxta crucem Mater ejus—“There stood by the cross his Mother.” Let us observe finally Mary standing at the foot of the cross, seeing her Son die. But oh God, what a Son dies for her! A Son who from eternity had chosen her as his Mother, preferring her in his love above all men and angels; a Son so beautiful, so holy, and so lovable; a Son who had always been obedient to her; a Son who was her only love, since he was her Son and her God; and Mary had to see him die of sheer pain before her eyes.

But behold, the hour of the death of Jesus has now come; the afflicted Mother sees that her Son on the cross is already suffering the final assaults of death; behold him, his body already sinks, he lowers his head upon his breast, he opens his mouth, and he expires. The people cry out: “He is dead, he is dead!” And Mary also says: “Ah my Jesus, my Son, thou art now dead.”

11. After Jesus Christ expired, he is taken down from the cross. Mary goes to meet him with her arms outstretched, and then, having pressed him to her bosom, she looks closely at that head wounded by thorns, those hands pierced by nails, and that body all torn: “Ah, my Son,” she says, “to what state has your love for men reduced you!” But the disciples of Christ, fearing that she, embracing her Son, might die of sorrow, out of compassion come before her, and with reverent force take the dead Son from her arms, and wrapping him in the shroud, carry him to be buried.

The other holy women accompany him, and with them the sorrowful Mother also goes, following her Son to the sepulcher; there, after arranging him with her own hands, she gives him the last farewell, and departs. St. Bernard says that Mary went forth so afflicted and sorrowful that she moved everyone who encountered her to weep: Omnes plorabant, qui obviabant Ei—“All who met her wept.” And he adds that those who accompanied her wept more for her than for the Lord: super ipsam potius, quam super Dominum plangebant—“They wept more for her than for the Lord.”

12. Brethren, let us be devoted to the sorrows of Mary. Blessed Albert the Great writes that just as the whole world is indebted to God for his Passion, so also we are indebted to Mary for the sorrow she suffered in offering the death of her Son to God for our salvation: Sicut totus Mundus obligatur Deo propter Passionem, sic obligatur Domina propter compassionem—“As the whole world is indebted to God for the Passion, so it is indebted to the Lady for her compassion.” The angel revealed to St. Bridget that the Holy Virgin, in order to see us saved, herself sacrificed the life of her Son to the eternal Father: a sacrifice that cost her a pain greater (as we have said) than the pains of all the martyrs, and than death itself.

But the Divine Mother complained to St. Bridget that very few had compassion on her in her sorrows, since the greater part of men live unmindful of them: Respicio, si forte sint qui compatiantur mihi, & recognoscunt dolorem meum, & valde paucos invenio—“I look to see whether perhaps there are any who have compassion on me and recognize my sorrow, and I find very few.” Therefore she recommended to the Saint: Ideo Filia mea, licet a multis oblita sim, tu non obliviscaris mei—“Therefore, my daughter, although I am forgotten by many, do not you forget me.” And to this end the same Virgin in the year 1239 appeared to the Founders of the Servants of Mary, so that they might establish a religious order in memory of her sorrows, as was then established.

And Jesus himself said one day to Blessed Veronica of Binasco: “Daughter, the tears shed for my Passion are dear to me, but since I love my Mother Mary with immense love, the meditation on the sorrows she suffered at my death is very dear to me.”

It is also good to know what Pelbart relates: that it was revealed to St. Elizabeth, a Benedictine virgin, that the Lord promised four graces to devotees of the sorrows of Mary¹: (1) That whoever invokes her by her sorrows shall merit to do penance for his sins before dying. (2) That he will console these devotees in their tribulations, and especially in those of death. (3) That he will imprint upon them the memory of his Passion, and that in heaven he will then give them the reward for it. (4) He said he has given to Mary the power to obtain all the graces she wishes in favor of devotees of her sorrows.

Points for Reflection

1. “The martyrdom of Mary was wrought, says St. Bernard: non ferro carnificis, sed acerbo dolore cordis—‘not by the iron of the executioner, but by the bitter sorrow of the heart.’” (§1)

2. “All the wounds that were scattered through the body of Jesus were united in the heart of Mary to afflict her in the Passion of Jesus” (§3)

3. “And Jesus himself said one day to Blessed Veronica of Binasco: ‘Daughter, the tears shed for my Passion are dear to me, but since I love my Mother Mary with immense love, the meditation on the sorrows she suffered at my death is very dear to me.’” (§12)