Out of all of her titles, Our Lady of Sorrows has to be one of the most somber. And yet it is one of the most popular—especially in parts of the Church that have seen great suffering. She’s the national patroness, for example, of Slovakia. It might have been for that reason that I always associated her with Eastern Europe, but in my years living in Rome I came know that Our Lady of Sorrows was a favorite for the Italians as well—just think about Michelangelo’s famous statue of the sorrowful mother, the Pietà in the Basilica of St. Peter.
There’s an ecclesiastical urban legend that after the Diocese of Greensburg was carved out from Pittsburgh, the new bishop decided that he would try to woo some Pittsburghers across the border by building a beautiful new church just on his side of boundary and dedicating it to “Mother of Sorrows.” The bishop of Pittsburgh, not wanting to be outdone, established a parish just on his side of the same boundary and dedicated it to “Our Lady of Joy,” thinking that people would always choose “joy.” His usually fine intuition was mistaken in this case. Mother of Sorrows is still the larger parish. In the midst of the sufferings that we all experience, the image of a mother who knew suffering herself and now shares our suffering is unfailingly attractive.
Since the earliest days of the Church, followers of Jesus have profited from their meditation on the sufferings endured by Mary. The Servite Fathers, in particular, made popular a spiritual exercise known around the world as the “Seven Sorrows devotion,” leading Catholics to meditate on seven particular instances of sorrow in the life of Mary. The month of September is dedicated to this devotion.
If your pastor wasn’t in too much of a hurry today, you may have sung or recited at Mass the “Stabat Mater,” a hymn that we all know from the Stations of the Cross. It’s a beautiful reflection on Mary standing at the foot of the cross.
As our local Church continues to reel from the tragedy at Annunciation, it’s significant that we have a spiritual mother who herself experienced great suffering and loss. On those occasions in recent days when I have had the occasion to join those praying the rosary in front of Annunciation, I’ve been praying that Our Lady of Sorrows would be particularly close to the moms of Fletcher and Harper, to the moms of all the students at Annunciation, and indeed to parents throughout our Archdiocese.
At a hearing this morning at the Capitol, I was privileged to hear the testimony of a number of Annunciation parents. I was amazed by their strength as well as by their passion and their sorrow and couldn’t help but lift them up to the loving embrace of Our Lady of Sorrows.
There’s wisdom in how our Church calls us to turn to our Blessed Mother not just to share in her celebratory moments (think about the Joyful Mysteries) but also in those moments of mourning and sorrow. May we always be inspired by her ability to be hopeful even in the midst of the tears. Whatever sorrows we may bring, we have a Mother who is waiting with open arms hoping to carry us closer to her son. Our Lady of Sorrows, pray for us.