Ponder His Passion: the Passion of a Mother's Heart

Third Friday of Lent:The passion of a mother’s heart

Growing up in a solid Catholic home, I was instructed in the concept of “offering up” little sufferings and sacrifices in union with the sacrifice of Jesus, a concept which has perhaps fallen on hard times in some Catholic circles but which is as relevant and true to Catholic doctrine as ever. Entering the monastery and Passionist formation, my concept of offering up suffering deepened into a whole new dimension, of seeing my daily life in the light of the Passion of Jesus, and making of day-to-day trials, obediences, burdens, prayers, acts of love, a conscious participation in Christ’s sacrifice.  In God’s infinite generosity and love, He gives us the dignity of “making up for what is lacking in the sufferings of Christ, on behalf of His body, the Church” by the sufferings of our lives. Nothing is wasted! The first person to share in the sufferings of Christ was His Mother Mary. As we ponder the Passion and seek to be united with Jesus, Mary’s Mother-heart gives us a unique entryway into the sufferings of Christ.

We all know the pain of our own personal sufferings, but there is another pain that so many of us know so deeply, the pain of compassion, the pain that comes to us through our love for another person. This isn’t a visible pain like a cross and crown of thorns, but an interior pain, a sword in the heart, and its intensity is proportionate to our love for the one who suffers: A woman journeys with her husband battling terminal cancer; parents face a devastating diagnosis for their young child; a  young person must “let go” of a friend, a mentor, an “anchor”, due to death or just life circumstances; a parent feels the loss when a child leaves home, or even leaves the faith. There is even the pain that comes when a family member embraces a call from the Lord which is wonderful and good, but which is hard for his or her loved ones to understand.

Has not every one of us felt this sword of sorrow that pierces the heart, in one way or another? Our Blessed Mother Mary, throughout her life of following her Son and in particular in His Passion, stands before us as a companion in sorrow, a model, and a consoling reminder that these sufferings, too, are precious! They are valuable! They are not lost! These, too, can be offered up, win graces and blessings for souls, and in particular, for the souls of the very dear persons who are the object of our pain.

Think of Our Sorrowful Mother when Jesus was just 40 days old, when Simeon gave a prophecy of the suffering that would come to her son.  How did her motherly heart receive this word? What emotions of fear, worry, and anguish must have flooded her heart. Yet, in this heart so pure and so filled with the Holy Spirit, her trust in God the Father was a strong foundation underneath everything else. She knew that this precious, fragile life she held in her arms was enfolded in the perfect plan of a loving Father, and we can imagine her prayer of resolute surrender, “Father, He is Yours, and I am yours, let Your Will be done!”

Think of Our Lady in another of her sorrows, the time when she couldn’t find 12-year-old Jesus for 3 days in Jerusalem, and then heard Him tell her that He was “about His Father’s business”. Have I felt the pain that she knew so well in those days? Perhaps a child who is lost, if not literally, perhaps morally or spiritually; or, a near and dear one who is withdrawn from my life in a significant way, for the sake of following a higher calling that isn’t yet grasped or understood by me? Can I place my child, my loved one, as Mary did, in the hands of God the Father, remembering and saying with trust in His plan, “Father, He is Yours! I am Yours! Your will be done!” Can I ponder with reverence and faith in my heart, surrendering in faith to God’s plan even though I feel the pain of not understanding?

Our Lady met Jesus on the way of the Cross, she saw all His wounds and His terrible suffering. She knew He was fulfilling God’s plan; she couldn’t stop it, and she wouldn’t stop the Father’s plan. She instead did the more courageous thing: she stayed with Him and let Him go, offering Him to the Father. What is more challenging than to watch a beloved one suffer … to not to be able to do anything … to just to be there … bearing the weight of all his pain.

Peter couldn’t do this — he couldn’t let Jesus go. He tried to fight, then he ran away. He couldn’t do what Mary did: stand, watch, and pray, as Jesus suffered. When we feel what Mary felt, a call to stand with a loved one who is suffering and to “let them go”, to surrender them into the hands of God our Father, can we do it with Our Lady’s strength, hope, and unshakable trust in the Father’s plan? Can we stand-under (the cross of our loved one), without understanding? Can we share in the courageous faith of Mary, Who cries out to God, even in the face of death, “Father, He is yours, and I am yours, your will be done?”

Christ’s Passion was, mysteriously, a part of God’s plan of sheer goodness for our salvation. Yet, mysteriously, in God’s plan, He also willed that Christ’s sacrifice would be offered jointly by a Mother’s heart, a heart that breaks with the pierced heart of her Son, an oblation of compassion and love, powerful for Salvation, through Christ.

Mary, loving Mother of Sorrows, as we stand by the Crosses of our loved ones, we ask you, give us your courage and strength, give us your unshakable faith in the Father’s plan.

Father, He is Yours, I am Yours, Your will be done! Let it be done to me according to Your word!