Mary, Mother of Sorrows:
Fac ut portem Christi mortem
I want to stand with
Make me bear Christ's death Image:
Ten or twenty years ago, it would have been unthinkable or, at least, improbable, to consider
writing about Mary as the mother of sorrows. Devotion to Mary under that title and in Roman
Catholic circles had its heyday in the 40s and 50s. Time has passed and given us larger
perspectives. The flood of peppy and overly optimistic postconciliar spiritualities failed to satisfy
people, precisely because they did not and could not engage people on the level of suffering.
There is a vast quantity of suffering in the world. It extends from deeply personal and hidden
domains through social patterns and global realities. It even reaches a cosmic dimension. These
abstract levels of suffering are marked out very specifically by sorrowing mothers. In some
particular and powerful way, a large quantity of human suffering coalesces in the hearts of
mothers. In this context, the early and, in the Christian tradition, paradigmatic figure of Mary,
mother of sorrows, is worth pursuing for greater understanding.
Even before a theology of suffering was elaborated, the images of a young and suffering mother
bearing a child in a hostile world and an older mother standing before the cross of her son as he
was dying captivated generations of believers. The embodiment in art and poetry and music of
the
Mater Dolorosa suggests that priority needs to be given to the primary experience which is both
imaginative and affective.
An example of giving priority to the imaginative is found in the remarkable medieval hymn
Stabat
Mater (verses above). When these and other similar verses are read in a perspective of
male-female dynamics and spirituality, some significant conclusions emerge. The poet, a man, is
asking a woman, Mary, to help him to identify with, join with, and participate in, the sufferings and
death of another man, Jesus.
Read in this way, the Stabat Mater highlights the need or, perhaps more accurately, the necessity
of Mary in the spiritual journey. Gerald May says, "... in my experience I have never met a
sincere Western spiritual seeker who did not have to encounter Mary at some point along the
way, regardless of that seeker's religious denomination. The image of Mary allows both men and
women to relate their images of the divine in ways simply not possible with a totally male
divinity."
Image:
Although admiration and veneration are both historically and theologically valid and appropriate,
another dimension of Marian devotion, recently recovered and reemphasized by Paul VI in
Marialis Cultus, needs our attention. The other dimension is identification with Mary or the
imitation of Mary. Identification with Mary means that Christians see her and say not only
"Look,
there is the mother of sorrows," and admire her; they also say, "Here is a life and faith pattern
which I can call my own."
If we are to trace the biblical witness to Mary's sufferings, her experience of sorrow, a
fundamental distinction is necessary. We are following the experience of someone whose title is
sorrowful mother, not depressed mother. In the gospels as documents of faith, we have Mary's
experience of suffering presented in a context of faith, hope, and love. Were the gospels to
chronicle her pain simply in a context of sadness, perhaps anger, a lack of resolution, and
ultimately without perceived hope, then she would not emerge as a pained, sorrowing, yet
faith-filled person but rather as a depressed person.
The sufferings endured by Mary were complex. As we noted, the gospel narratives often mix a
joy
and a sorrow. Their layered descriptions ring true to the texture of real life. In a similar way, one
would expect and correctly find a complexity in the responses of Mary to suffering. Although we
instinctively look for a single solution to "the problem of suffering," faith and, more specifically,
the Mary experience in the New Testament lead us to a multifaceted approach. I will describe her
responses under the categories of struggle, presence, expansion, and surrender.
(Gerald G. May, Will and Spirit: A Contemplative Psychology, 147-8).
1) STRUGGLE Mary's first response to suffering is struggle. Because of an
excessively
passive piety in the past, we may be surprised that struggle can be named the first response to
suffering. Mary's "yes" is not mere acquiescence but active engagement in the unfolding of
salvation. Mary's
response to suffering by way of struggle becomes clear in the Magnificat. Here we find suffering,
struggle, hope, courage and anticipation.
2) PRESENCE As she shares in the sufferings of her son, Mary accompanies
him, does
not "do" anything. Hers is an active and engaged presence which includes knowing,
understanding, accepting and loving. When "nothing can be done" medically, socially,
3) EXPANSION A significant response of Mary to suffering is an expansion of
consciousness and of concern. The gospel narratives are quite clear about this. At the cross, in
John's Gospel, she faces the greatest loss. Precisely at that moment, she expands her embrace and
receives the beloved disciple and, symbolically, all other disciples as their mother. In the face of
her most intense suffering, she expands the arena of her concern.
Image:
4) SURRENDER Mary's surrender is a surrender to God. Psychologically, that
means not
clinging to her control over matters or outcomes. In faith, it means the radical acknowledgment
of
God's sovereignty. In hope, it means re-imagining the future, not simply making the future an
extrapolation of the present. In love, it means the movement toward the union of wills with the
one who loves us absolutely, unconditionally.
The mystery of suffering is a mystery of connection and disconnection. The overall pattern of
Mary emergent in our reflection is to link us with Jesus in his suffering and dying and rising, to
link us with one another as we share common struggles and suffering, to link us with a larger
world of concern. Mary comforts primarily by being a sacrament of God's compassion, enduring,
promising, supporting.
How can Mary be the sorrowful mother if she has been gloriously assumed into heaven? Recall
the image of the appearing risen Lord who continues to bear the wounds of his passion. He is
glorified and wounded still. For the mystery is one: death and resurrection. Similarly, Mary is
both
virgo assumpta and mater dolorosa . Her sufferings and sorrows have shaped
her glory. She is "a sign of sure hope and solace for the pilgrim people of God."
Source: Louis J. Cameli, abridged from the article with same title which appeared in Chicago
Studies, 27, 1: April, 1988, 3;15. This excerpt appeared in The Marian Library
Newsletter, Spring, 1991.
This page, maintained by The Marian Library/International Marian Research Institute,
Dayton, Ohio 45469-1390, and created by M.Jean Frisk was last modified
Tuesday, 04/21/2009 12:36:45 EDT by Victor Pennekamp. Please send any comments to
Johann.Roten@udayton.edu. URL for this page is http://campus.udayton.edu/mary/meditations/sorrowsmed.html
The Mystery of Comfort and Hope
Louis J. Cameli, abridged
Iuxta crucem tecum stare
ac me tibi sociare
in planctu
desidero.
passionis fac me sortem
et plagas
recolere.
you next to the cross
and I want to join you in your grieving.
make me share his passion
make me recall his
wounds.
Crucifixion (fragment)
Church at Walburg
Lower Rhine
The Stabat Mater, I suggest, captures a way in which Mary gives access to all believers to the
mystery of Jesus Christ. In a particular way, she provides male believers with a possibility for
intimate relationship with the suffering and dying Jesus, that is, on the level of his vulnerabilities
and our vulnerabilities as well as on the level of strong affect or feeling.
Man of Sorrows
Geertgen tot Sint Jans
psycho-therapeutically, or whatever way, then the core needs of people emerge. They are being
known, being understood, being accepted, being loved. These elements form the content of
Mary's presence.
Pieta
detail of the Marian altar in the
Lady Chapel, Frankfurt, Germany