103. Fifth Friday of Lent

Meditations no. 149 (unofficial computer-aided translation)

Our Lady’s whole life is oriented to the Cross.

Within a week Jesus Christ will embrace the Cross in order to redeem us. Now, as we go with him on his last trip to Jerusalem, we turn our eyes to our Blessed Lady, who also is making her way to the holy city. We want to relive these last remaining days very close to her, and there is no better way to do this, on this day which used to be dedicated to the Sorrows of our Lady, and on which the Grandmother celebrated her name-day, than to try to immerse ourselves in Mary’s Immaculate Heart, which suffered so much because of our sins.

It had all started many years earlier, when our Lady received the divine message from the Archangel Gabriel: Behold you will conceive in your womb and bear a son, and you shall call his name Jesus. Later, the angel revealed to Joseph that that name, Jesus, had a precise meaning: He will save his people from their sins. Mary and Joseph knew Holy Scripture well, and they must have recalled the passages of Isaiah which describe the Servant of Yahweh who, burdened with the sins of men, suffers and dies to redeem us. And along with their joy over the approaching birth of Christ, sorrow must also have cast a shadow over their hearts.

Joys and sorrows went together in Mary’s life from that first moment. When her Son was born she contemplated the greatness of God on earth: a choir of angels was present, and not only the shepherds, but also important men of this world came to adore the Child. Afterwards, however, the Holy Family had to flee to Egypt, to escape Herod’s murderous intent. From the words of Simeon, Mary learned that God had a role for her, next to her Son, in the work of redemption, which would demand suffering and sacrifice: Behold, this child is set for the fall and rising of many in Israel, and for a sign that is spoken against (and a sword will pierce your own soul also), that the thoughts of many hearts may be revealed.

Our Blessed Lady placed herself unreservedly at the service of God’s plan. If God exalted his Mother, it is equally true that he did not spare her pain, exhaustion in her work, or trials of her faith. A village woman one day broke into praise for Jesus exclaiming: Blessed is the womb that bore you and the breasts that nourished you. Jesus said in reply: Rather, blessed are they who hear the word of God and keep it. It was a compliment to his Mother on her fiat, her be it done. She lived it sincerely, unstintingly, fulfilling its every consequence, never amid fanfare, but rather in the hidden and silent sacrifice of each day.

As we meditate on these truths, we come to understand better the logic of God. We come to realize that the supernatural value of our life does not depend on accomplishing the great undertakings suggested to us by our overactive imagination. Rather it is to be found in the faithful acceptance of God’s will, in welcoming generously the opportunities for small, daily sacrifice.

The Virgin Mary is the teacher of hidden and silent sacrifice.

How often our Lady must have meditated on the mission she was called to carry out at Christ’s side! But Mary kept all these things, pondering them in her heart. Let us try to imitate her, our Father invites us, talking to our Lord, conversing like two people in love about everything that happens to us, even the most insignificant incidents.

That is the way Mary lived during the thirty years of Jesus’ hidden life: thirty long years of simple, ordinary life, just like that of any other home in a small village in Galilee, but years filled with ever-increasing fervour as she carried out God’s will, and waited vigilantly for the moment in which her soul would be pierced with the sword foretold by Simeon. In these years Mary shows herself as the teacher of the sacrifice that is hidden and silent.

One day, when Jesus was about thirty, he said goodbye to his Mother and left the house at Nazareth. He was beginning his public life. Perhaps Mary thought that the moment had come for her to play her part in what she had been waiting for so ardently, and so we see her with Christ at Cana. But Jesus said to her: My hour has not yet come. From then on, until the moment of the Passion, our Lady practically disappears from the Gospel scenes: See her, nearly always in the background, cooperating with her Son; she knows, yet says nothing.

We must learn from our Mother how to sacrifice ourselves gladly and without attracting attention, filled with supernatural hope. What a contrast between our Lady’s hope and our own impatience! So often we call upon God to reward us at once for any little good we have done. No sooner does the first difficulty appear than we start to complain. Often we are incapable of sustaining our efforts, of keeping our hope alive. Contemplating Mary’s life will help us to rectify our outlook, and make it more supernatural. The great heroines of the Old Testament - Judith, Esther, Deborah - won a measure of human glory even here on earth, for they were acclaimed and exalted by the people. Mary’s throne, by contrast, like that of her Son, is the Cross. During the rest of her life, until she was taken body and soul into heaven, what most impresses us about her is her quiet presence. St Luke, who knew her well, describes her as being close to the first disciples, in prayer. This was the way she lived to the end of her days on earth, she who was to be praised by all creatures for all eternity.

Standing with Mary at the foot of the Cross, especially in Holy Week.

Our Lady had often been to Jerusalem before. She walked in silence, as always, behind Jesus. But this time was different. This time she knew what lay in store. A glance from Jesus, and a few words from her Son which were only partly understood by the Apostles, were enough for Mary to understand that the hour for her Son - and for herself - had arrived. In the words of one of the Popes, our Blessed Lady, who seemed to be absent from the public life of Jesus, was by God’s own arrangement at his side when he suffered death, nailed to the Cross. Jesus wanted to have her at his side, and Mary assented. Our Father has written: This gives us a deeper understanding of that moment in the Passion of our Lord, which we shall never tire of meditating on: Stabat autem iuxta crucem Iesu mater eius: there, standing by the Cross of Jesus, was his Mother.

I expect you have noticed how some mothers, moved by a legitimate pride, are quick to appear alongside their children when success comes their way, when they receive some public acclaim. But there are other mothers who, even at times like these, stay in the background, showing their love silently. This was Mary’s way, and Jesus knew it.

But when it comes to the scandal of the Sacrifice of the Cross, Mary is there, hearing with sadness how the passers-by blasphemed against him, tossing their heads: “Come now,” they said, “you would destroy the temple and build it up in three days, rescue yourself; come down from that Cross, if you are the Son of God.” Our Lady is there listening to the words of her Son, united to him in his suffering: My God, my God, why have you forsaken me? What could she do? She united herself fully with the redemptive love of her Son, and offered to the Father her immense sorrow, which pierced her pure Heart like a sharp-edged sword.

Our Lady suffered according to the measure of her love for God, which was greater than any person has ever had or ever will have, because of the fullness of grace which she possessed from the very beginning of her existence. She suffered according to the measure of her love for her Son - and is there any mother who could love her son more than she, who by the work of the Holy Spirit had given him his whole Humanity? Finally, she suffered according to the measure of her love for souls - those souls who turn away from God through their sins, and for whom Jesus was dying on the Cross. The Virgin Mary could truly make her own those inspired words: All you who pass by, look and see if there is any sorrow like my sorrow.

On the Cross, Jesus is comforted anew by the quiet, loving presence of his Mother. Mary does not shout; she does not run about frantically. Stabat: she is there standing next to her Son. It is then that Jesus looks at her, and then turning his gaze to John he exclaims, Woman, this is your son. Then he said to the disciple, This is your Mother. In the person of John, Christ is entrusting all men to his Mother, and especially his disciples: those who were to believe in him.

We can finish today’s prayer by asking: Mother, my Mother - yours, because you are hers on many counts - may your love bind me to your Son’s Cross; may I not lack the faith, nor the courage, nor the daring, to carry out the will of our Jesus. This is how we want to live always, and especially in these coming days of Holy Week: closely united to our Blessed Lady, for we do not wish to, we cannot, leave her alone.