Our Lady of Sorrows
Whither is thy Beloved gone, O thou most beautiful among women? Whither is thy Beloved turned aside, and we will seek Him with thee?
We begin with the first antiphon of Lauds for today’s feast of The Seven Sorrows of the Blessed Virgin Mary in the Monastic Diurnal.
The Blessed Virgin Mary is sometimes called Our Lady of Sorrows – indeed, that is the modern name for today’s feast. This is an ancient title for her, based on Simeon’s prophecy to Mary from Luke’s Gospel.
Lady of Sorrows
from a triptych by the Master of the Stauffenberg Altarpiece, Alsace c. 1455
Simeon blessed them and said to Mary his mother, “Behold, this child is destined for the fall and rise of many in Israel, and to be a sign that will be contradicted, and you yourself a sword will pierce so that the thoughts of many hearts may be revealed.”
(Luke 2:34-35)
As Mary stood at the foot of the Cross, the sword of sorrow that Simeon had foretold pierced her soul. The Seven Sorrows are named as these:
- The prophecy of Simeon (Luke 2:22-35)
- The flight into Egypt (Matthew 2:13-21)
- Loss of the Child Jesus for three days (Luke 2:41-50)
- Mary meets Jesus on his way to Calvary (Luke 23:27-31; John 19:17)
- The Crucifixion and Death of Jesus (John 19:25-30)
- Mary receives the dead body of her son (John 19:31-34, 38; c.f. Lamentations 1:12)
- Jesus is laid in the tomb (Matthew 27:59; Mark 15:46; Luke 27:55-56; John 19:38-42; c.f. Isaiah 53:8)
Sorrow is a normal part of the human condition, and I for one am deeply suspicious of those chirpy souls who claim to be happy all the time. The world is more complicated than that.
Even the Virgin, who knew her son was God and must triumph over death, was overcome with sadness at times. We all are. It’s as legitimate an emotion as any other. We shouldn’t try to suppress it, but rather to live through it with hope in the goodness and mercy of God. We can stand with Mary and the foot of the Cross, where our sorrows too can be united with Christ’s passion.
Some days, that’s not all that easy.
Depart from me, I will weep bitterly; labour not to comfort me.
(Second Antiphon for Lauds)