Ponder His Passion: Joy at the Foot of the Cross
Fourth Friday of Lent: Our Lady of Sorrows, treasure house of joy
On this fourth Friday of Lent, as we draw near to Laetare Sunday – that “halfway point” of our penitential journey on which the Church decks herself out in rosy vestments and bids us all to rejoice and sing for joy – our reflections take us once again to Mary’s side at the foot of the Cross. “Standing by the cross of Jesus were his mother and his mother’s sister, Mary the wife of Clopas, and Mary of Magdala.” (John 19:25) It is good to stand here, so good, yet so hard. Our hearts break as we witness our Savior’s suffering; here we bring to His feet and find a home for all our brokenness, sufferings, sorrows… all the weight of the world’s woes. In tears of compassion, of gratitude, of awe, we come and we offer all our wreckage. His arms and heart are wide open to receive us all. It is good to be here with Mary, so good. Yet how can we be glad, how can we lift up songs of rejoicing, here of all places? What place can joy possibly have on Calvary?
Photo courtesy of Joe Bland
One of the most surprising things one learns about Our Lady of Sorrows, when one spends any length of time with her, is that she is also a woman of profound joy. Joy and hope and love shine from her eyes even here on Calvary, even wrapped as she is in the dark mantle of grief which her motherly compassion has woven for her on this hill. She sees and feels as no one else does the scourges, the nails, every wracking breath of her dying Son. And yet by faith she also sees and sinks her roots deep into the love, and life, and grace which flow from those wounds and sufferings. She knows the joy that flows from this sorrow, and even now she is a fount of that joy.
In Eddie Doherty’s marvelous little book, Splendor of Sorrow, he writes,
“Is [Mary] not the mother of all men – to whom they go, poor banished children of Eve, to whom they send up their sighs, mourning and weeping in this valley of tears? She was born to hold your sorrows. […]
“Sorrow is gold in the Kingdom of Heaven. Mary takes all that is offered, treasures it in the vaults of her heart, and issues against it coins a thousand times its value – coins of solace, love, and joy. Pity is golden too, and love beyond all price. […] Our Lady of Sorrows […] is a treasure house of joy.”
It is perhaps the greatest paradox of Christianity, the most astonishingly good part of the Good News: that on Calvary, suffering is transformed into consolation, defeat into victory, weakness into power, despair into hope, sorrow into the very doorway to “joy which no one can take away from you.” This is because the Paschal Mystery is of one piece; Good Friday cannot be separated from Easter Sunday. Death and pain no longer have the final word!
Furthermore, because Jesus Christ suffered, died, and rose from the dead, our sufferings have received meaning and even beauty. Where the Head has gone, the members of the Body go also; on Calvary, Jesus has opened for us all a straight road through His pierced Heart into the very bosom of His Heavenly Father, where we find the fulfillment of all desire. So completely has He transformed suffering that for the Christian it becomes the very means of union with God, divine grace, and ecstatic, eternal joy. Our Lady of Sorrows knew and lived this truth, and she beckons to each of us to draw near. The closer we draw to the Cross of Christ, the more the joy of the Resurrection truly breaks forth in our hearts and lives.
Eddie Doherty again, in words he places on the lips of St. Therese addressing Our Lady of Sorrows, gives lyric voice to the astonishing paradox of joy at the foot of the Cross:
“O Mother of my Love, my Spouse, my God, […] look not so fearfully on this cross. Lady of Sorrows, Morning Star, Refuge of Sinners, Cause of Our Joy, this is the scepter of the King of Kings, the symbol of His power, the memorial of His love. […]
“This is the hope and the love and the pride and the safety of all your children. This is the sign in which your Son shall conquer. O Rose of Sharon, Gate of Heaven, Queen of all Saints, look tenderly on this cross. […]
“It is the symbol of His death, and your unutterable pain, O Mary, Mother of Martyrs. But it is also the symbol of His victory, and your unutterable joy – for He will come back to you. Out of the tomb He will come. Alive. In His own body. Never to leave you again. And, because of His death, the Holy Ghost shall come to you once more in love and fire.
“Twice blessed art thou, Mary full of grace. Twice shall you be the mother of Jesus. Twice shall you be visited by the Holy Ghost. O Mother of my Heart, look joyously upon this cross.”
Yes, O Mother of Sorrows and Mother of our hearts, look joyously upon this Cross, and give us, too, your eyes of joy, so that even in our deepest sorrows and most crushing sufferings, we may keep ever before our eyes the joy and ecstasy of the Easter which is to come.