THE MOURNING MARY.
April 8, 2023.
Holy Saturday – Black Saturday.
On this day, the Church does not celebrate the liturgy. No
Eucharist, no songs, no praises. The author of our Thanksgiving has died.
Therefore, there is no reading to reflect on. The Incarnate Word of God has
been murdered. Evil and sin seem to have won over life. In our sorrow, the only
thing left to us is to mourn with our Mother, the Mother of our Lord.
At the hour of the Lord's passion, all his followers,
including Peter and his companions, and the great crowd that were always with
him fled away. The Evangelist John mentions, however, something particular:
“Near the cross of Jesus stood his mother and his mother's sister, Mary the
wife of Clopas, and Mary of Magdala.” (Jn 19: 25-27) All fled, but not the
Mother. She stood by, mourning her only Son. She stood by hoping against all
hope. She stood by questioning life, questioning heaven and earth, questioning
God.
This day is named, Black Saturday. According to some
authors, “Black Saturday commemorates the day Jesus Christ was laid in the tomb
after his death. According to a Biblical account (Luke 23:50-56), Joseph of
Arimathea went to Pilate and asked for the body of Jesus. It says: “He took it
down, wrapped it in a linen cloth, and placed it in a tomb cut out of the rock,
where no one had yet been buried. It was the day of preparation and the Sabbath
was beginning. The women who had accompanied Jesus from Galilee followed, and
they saw the tomb and how his body was laid in it. Then they returned and
prepared aromatic species and perfumes.”
According to Catholic teaching, it was also on Black
Saturday that Christ “descended into hell.” The Catechism of the Catholic
Church explains that “the dead Christ went down to the realm of the dead. He
opened heaven’s gates for the just who had gone before him”.”
There is an ancient hymn that could lead our today's meditation while mourning with Mary. It is titled, “Stabat Mater”.
Stood the mournful Mother weeping,
Close to Jesus to the last.
Through her heart, His sorrow sharing,
All His bitter anguish bearing,
Now at length the sword had passed.
Oh, how sad and sore distressed
Was that Mother highly blest,
Of the sole begotten One!
Christ above in torment hangs.
She beneath beholds the pangs
Of her dying glorious Son.
Is there one who would not weep,
Whelmed in miseries so deep,
Christ's dear Mother to behold?
Can the human heart refrain
From partaking in her pain,
In that Mother's pain untold?
Bruised, derided, cursed, defiled,
She beheld her tender Child,
All with bloody scourges rent.
For the sins of His own nation,
Saw Him hang in desolation
Till His spirit forth He sent.
O thou Mother: fount of love!
Touch my spirit from above,
Make my heart with thine accord.
Make me feel as thou hast felt;
Make my soul to glow and melt
With the love of Christ my Lord.
Holy Mother, pierce me through;
In my heart each wound renew
Of my Savior crucified.
Let me share with thee His pain,
Who for all my sins was slain,
Who for me in torment died.
Let me mingle tears with thee,
Mourning Him who mourned for me,
All the days that I may live.
By the Cross with thee to stay;
There with thee to weep and pray,
Is all I ask of thee to give.
Virgin of all virgins best,
Listen to my fond request:
Let me share thy grief divine.
Let me to my latest breath,
In my body bear the death
Of that dying Son of thine.
Wounded with His every wound,
Steep my soul till it hath swooned
In His very blood away.
Be to me, O Virgin, nigh,
Lest in flames I burn and die,
In His awful Judgment day.
Christ, when Thou shalt call me hence,
Be Thy Mother my defense,
Be Thy Cross my victory.
While my body here decays,
May my soul Thy goodness praise,
Safe in Paradise with Thee. Amen.>>
Mama Mary was there with her son. She was present from the
beginning to the end. She witnessed all the events of his life, from the womb
to the tomb, from the Manger to the Cross. Without fear, without
discouragement, Mary followed Jesus. In that, she is the perfect image of
discipleship.
Wonderful! Thank you!
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