(Mrs. Nicolosi is a wife and mother of four grown children and writes from in Rhode Island. This article is reprinted with permission from Canticle Magazine, the Voice of Today's Catholic Woman.)
Many blessings and graces are assured to those who will pause to recall Our Lady’s Sorrows each day — from peace in their families to strength and consolations in life and at the moment of death. When we remember Mary’s sorrows, we draw near to her in a direct and personal way because we realize more deeply how human she was.
Sometimes it may seem as if Our Lady is so exalted, so holy, so perfect as to be totally removed from us. But she does not make herself unreachable — we do so by putting her on a pedestal. She certainly deserves the innumerable exalted titles her devoted petitioners have given her over the centuries. Nevertheless, her constant love and interest in human affairs means she makes herself accessible to each of her children without qualification.
Pondering the Seven Sorrows of Our Lady brings us to a deeper appreciation for her very human existence: we see that she is most assuredly within our reach because she has lived, like us, with a multitude of problems. As we consider her sufferings, the awesome magnitude if her love for each of us becomes more and more real. Her personal experiences include most of our worst fears.
We steel ourselves when we receive the ominous phone call, letter, or telegram, perhaps the unexpected visit from someone who we instinctively realize has bad news for us: so Mary has been through this trial we feel so keenly. Even as she held her tiny infant to her breast, Simeon’s prophecy brought her the dire news of impending disaster.
The flight into Egypt was precipitated by the action of the government — Herod’s order that all boys aged two and less were to be slaughtered to ensure his primacy on the throne. Imagine Joseph’s horror, that the long-awaited messiah, this beautiful little boy, was the object of a manhunt to the death. Joseph believed the message completely and acted at once in obedience. Imagine the Holy Family hurrying through the night in order to find safety. Government out of control, reaping havoc in innocent people’s lives, is something people of the twentieth century have witnessed worldwide. Even democracies, John Paul II reminds us, become tyrants when the weakest members are treated with contempt. Mary’s tears over the Holy Innocents certainly include the millions of aborted infants in our own day.
Those of us who have brought up families can easily relate to the third sorrow, the loss of the Child Jesus in the Temple. How may times do our children fall despite our precautions? How many sleepless nights have we lain awake thinking of nearly missed accidents? How often has control over a child’s presence been lost as he has boldly moved away from our protective circle?
“Your father and I have searched for you in sorrow.” Losing our children reminds us that they are only on loan to us from God.
It is here that I would suggest one other sorrow should be considered. After the recovery of Jesus in the temple, we know that the Holy Family returned to Nazareth where “the child grew in wisdom and strength” (Luke 2:52). Here was Joseph by Mary’s side, providing for their family in the carpentry shop, instructing the Little One in his trade, protecting them both from harm, seeking out solutions for all of their family difficulties — a constant and strong presence for Mother and Child. They were completely dependent upon him.
We do not know when Joseph died but we assume it was when Jesus was old enough to take over the family responsibilities, providing for Mary until the time of His public life. Whenever it happened, his death was assuredly a great sorrow for both of them. Did they not both love Joseph and revere him as the one chosen by God Himself to care for them? Joseph had been Mary’s constant companion through her pregnancy to the divinely-ordered birth in Bethlehem. She had turned to Joseph to discuss every concern regarding the Child’s growth and welfare. Joseph had shared with her the painful sense that in some way they had failed to fulfill their mission when Jesus absented Himself in the temple “to be about my Father’s work” (Luke 2:49).
Now God ordains that Mary is to be a widow, and whatever comes after this point in her life, she is to face without Joseph. This too, is a wrenching sorrow — one we can recall as an important part of her life.
Mary and Jesus tenderly bury Joseph, accepting the will of God. She pours out her thanksgiving to God for all the years and blessings she and Joseph shared together. We know that Mary was without sin, but we also know that she was not free from human suffering. Thus she suffered poignant loneliness after Joseph died. She no doubt looked to the day when she would be rejoined with him in the eternal Kingdom. They were real people, subject to the trials and misfortunes of human life, and so have true empathy and compassion for us in our struggles — and a loving desire to help us on our way!
Widows and widowers may turn to Mary mindful of her full love and understanding of their sorrow and difficulties. Statistics tell us that women tend to live longer than men; consequently there is a predominance of widows. It is a great sadness and awesome adjustment to make in one’s life, to carry on without one’s husband and life’s companion. It is equally difficult for the widower who loses his bride and must come to terms with single life again, his house empty without her presence. Both women and men struggle with this trial, often for years, before coming to terms with being alone. They can marvel at the generosity of the Blessed Mother who desires to help them through this period, which she herself suffered.
Although none of us will have to endure seeing a child condemned to crucifixion, the last four sorrows of Our Lady do find a reflection in our experience. It is well to recall her heart-rending suffering at the meeting with Jesus on Calvary, “her eyes spent with weeping” at what had been done to Him and at the crucifixion still to come. The most terrible and constant fear of parents is to see their child in a state of suffering and injury. From the moment of giving birth this potential is very present and real — such that most parents completely forget themselves and are willing to assume the sufferings of their children should trials occur.
So Mary’s heart is broken when she meets her Son and she knows implicitly that she must submit her will to God’s. Were Joseph there, he would probably struggle against the authorities in an effort to save his Son, and perhaps this is part of God’s ordained plan that Joseph’s mission is accomplished before the crucifixion and takes him to await the glorious resurrection.
Mary is alone in her grief, fulfilling this most grievous aspect of her fiat. Those who lose a child know she understands their sorrow more than any other human being. The purity of her soul means that she is to absorb the fullness of our sufferings.
Throughout the horrible crucifixion she remains at Calvary. When the broken body of Christ is removed, she carefully cradles Him for the last time, removing the thorns from His sacred head, and she is there at the burial of her only Son.
We see then, that the worst of life’s problems have already been lived through by Mary. She is truly there for us, some one who can understand the wrenching sufferings tied to love. When we ponder her sorrows, she teaches us not only to love her Son more, but also to love Joseph, her beloved spouse, and to petition him when we are in spiritual or temporal need. Joseph understands the nature and needs of daily family life. He, like Jesus and Mary, has sanctified the family.
Joseph, beloved foster-father of Jesus, beloved spouse of Mary, pray for us.
