The Mother of God suffers
When I speak here about the Sorrows and suffering of the Virgin, I am speaking about a small and very specific area of suffering; and it is the only area I wish to address today. It is not about the loss of her husband, Joseph. It is not about the pain of Roman occupation. It is not about stubbing a toe, or having an only son leave home, or anything similar. It is about suffering as a result of being the mother of God.
Reflection - Suffering
http://www.usccb.org/bible/readings/091516.cfm
A few weeks ago we were persistently confronted on the news with the image of a five year old child. He sat, covered in dirt and blood, stunned by the bombing of his family and his home in the Syrian city of Aleppo.
A few days ago we were visually reminded once more of the shock, the pain, the sorrow inflicted by the destruction of the twin towers of the World Trade Center.
Today, tomorrow and every day in the foreseeable future we will be able to witness suffering. It will be present in our world, our country, our city and our family; and we probably won't have to search in order to find it.
Today is a memorial feast in the church calendar. It calls to mind the suffering of Jesus' mother. In the church calendar it is known as the Memorial of Our Lady of Sorrows.
Suffering occupies a difficult and mysterious place in our lives. Nobody wants it. Most are saddened, shocked or repulsed by it. Those who intentionally inflict it are frequently identified as deviant. We claim we would eliminate it if we could, yet we persist in causing it.
Suffering is somewhat ambiguous in its character in that it sometimes can be said to exist only "in the eye of the beholder." The physical preparations of serious athletes appear as suffering to many, though probably not to the athletes. So too with the last few thousand steps of someone seeking the top of Mt Everest. The hardships of the single parent working multiple jobs are generally not categorized as suffering nor is the persistence of those who perform dangerous or exhausting work in order to feed their families. Yet, their experience may well make demands which the objective observer would call suffering. The human experience has even concocted stock phrases for these occasions:
Just do it!
No pain, no gain!
Feel the burn!
You gotta do what you gotta do!
When I look at the varieties of suffering, I find that some are physical, some emotional and some psychological.
When I look for the causes of suffering, I find that some are natural, some are human, some are from evil.
When I look for the explanations as to why individuals endure suffering, I find that some see it as inescapable, some see it as a means to an end, some see it as a pointless and cruel part of life.
When I look at the consequences of suffering, I find either destruction or growth.
When I speak here about the Sorrows and suffering of the Virgin, I am speaking about a small and very specific area of suffering; and it is the only area I wish to address today. It is not about the loss of her husband, Joseph. It is not about the pain of Roman occupation. It is not about stubbing a toe, or having an only son leave home, or anything similar. It is about suffering as a result of being the mother of God.
The difficult and mysterious qualities of suffering become particularly obvious when we attempt to reconcile it with our spiritual lives. The readings for today highlight both the difficulty and the mystery. The psalm we pray admonishes us: "Give thanks to the LORD, for he is good, for his mercy endures forever." Immediately thereafter we are told of the sorrows of the mother of our savior. So, the teaching goes like this: Our God is good; his earthly mother's life had notable incidents of suffering. Really!? There is a great mystery here. Mary was kept free from original sin and her body was not allowed to undergo corruption; but suffering and sorrow? It would appear that suffering and sorrow are so intrinsic to human life that not even the mother of God was allowed to escape them.
Many learned people have written books about suffering. I'm not one of them. The most satisfactory explanation I have found for dealing with suffering is from an observation of the world around me. Growth, advancement, progress, or whatever else you might choose to call the movement from one state to another, is an occasion of change. Change, whether for good or for ill, always involves some degree of suffering. Maybe it's a small suffering like giving up frequent parties because you are now a proud parent. Maybe it's a more pronounced suffering because you want to do what's necessary to be in the Olympics.
My spiritual life is no different. St Paul says to the Colossians: "Now I rejoice in my sufferings for your sake, and in my flesh I complete what is lacking in Christ's afflictions for the sake of his body, that is, the Church." (Colossians 1:24) Various authors have interpreted this passage in different ways. I read it, and I ask myself: What could possibly be lacking in Christ's afflictions? How can I, by anything I do, complete the work of salvation which Jesus obtained for me? The answer is simple, even obvious if you give it a bit of thought. The one part of salvation which can only be completed in me and by me is the total surrender of my present life to the life of Jesus who would live in me. If I am going to be the son of the Father that I am intended to be, then I must change. And, while that movement toward holiness will be and can be accomplished by The Spirit whom Jesus has sent, what is lacking is my cooperation. This is not the suffering that our physical world or other people would impose upon us. It is a suffering which I alone can choose for myself because I alone can consent to the change God would have take place within me.
When we set aside a day to honor Our Lady of Sorrows, we acknowledge her complete willingness to receive the will of the Father. "Be it done unto me according to your word," she says. Her consent was to a change, a change that would necessarily involve suffering because that is the only road to holiness.