Thinking about Mary

I’ve been thinking about Mary a lot while resting here on Lindisfarne. We say the Magnificat every night in evening prayer reminding us of her brave and revolutionary response to an angelic call. 

We went to the cathedral in Newcastle upon Tyne on Thursday to hear The Sixteen. Part of their concert was a setting of Stabat Mater by Palestrina. The pure voices stirred my soul. The words which I copy below speak of Mary at the cross. The revolutionary has become indescribable suffering. Unless as parents we have had to stand watching a child suffer, we cannot imagine her pain. The crucified reaches out to her - and us - and bids us stand with him. 

The Christian life is surely about responding to surprise, being brave, and at times suffering wondering where that will lead. She stood and wept but if you read Acts she’s still there, a faithful disciple. 

I’ve never understood Roman Catholic devotion praying to Jesus through her, but I can see her vital part in the story. I pray at the moment I might be as brave, might open my eyes to what God wants of me, might endure times of pain as best I can when it’s all crumbling and then to see redemption the other side. 

Stabat Mater dolorósa Juxta crucem lacrimósa, Dum pendébat Filius. Cujus ánimam geméntem, Contristátam, et doléntem, Pertransivit gladius. O quam tristis et afflicta Fuit illa benedicta  Mater Unigéniti! Quae mœrébat, et dolébat Et tremebat, cum vidébat  Nati pœnas inclyti. Quis est homo qui non fleret, Christi Matrem si viderét In tanto supplicio? Quis non posset contristári Piam Matrem contemplári Doléntem cum Filio? Pro peccátis suæ gentis Vidit Jesum in torméntis, Et flagéllis súbditum. Vidit suum dulcem natum Moriéntem desolátum, Dum emisit spiritum. Eia, Mater, fons amóris, Me sentire vim dolóris Fac, ut tecum lúgeam. Fac ut árdeat cor meum  In amándo Christum Deum, Ut sibi compláceam. Sancta Mater, istud agas, Crucifixi fige plagas Cordi meo válide. Tui nati vulneráti, Tam dignáti pro me pati, Pœnas mecum divide. Fac me tecum pie flere, Crucifixo condolere Donec ego vixero, Juxta crucem tecum stare Et me tibi sociáre In planctu desidero. Virgo virginum præclára, Mihi jam non sis amára, Fac me tecum plángere. Fac ut portem Christi mortem, Passiónis fac consórtem, Et plagas recólere. Fac me plagis vulnerári, Cruce hac inebriári, Et cruóre Filii. Inflammatus et accénsus, Per te Virgo sim defénsus In die judicii. Fac me cruce custodiri, Morte Christi praemuniri Confoveri gratia: Quando corpus moriétur Fac ut ánimæ donétur Paradisi Glória.

At the cross her station keeping, Mary stood in sorrow weeping When her Son was crucified. While she waited in her anguish, Seeing Christ in torment languish, Bitter sorrow pierced her heart. With what pain and desolation, With what noble resignation, Mary watched her dying Son. Ever-patient in her yearning Through her tear-filled eyes were burning Mary gazed upon her Son. Who, that sorrow contemplating, On that passion meditating, Would not share the Virgin's grief? Christ she saw, for our salvation, Scourged with cruel acclamation, Bruised and beaten by the rod. Christ she saw with life-blood failing, All her anguish unavailing, Saw him breathe his very last. Mary, fount of love's devotion, Let me share with true emotion All the sorrow you endured. Virgin, ever interceding, Hear me in my fervent pleading: Fire me with your love of Christ. Mother, may this prayer be granted: That Christ's love may be implanted In the depths of my poor soul At the cross, your sorrow sharing, All your grief and torment bearing, Let me stand and mourn with you. Fairest maid of all creation, Queen of hope and consolation, Let me feel your grief sublime. Virgin, in your love befriend me, At the Judgement Day defend me. Help me by your constant prayer. Saviour, when my life shall leave me, Through your mother's prayers receive me With the fruits of victory. Virgin of all virgins blest! Listen to my fond request: Let me share your grief divine Let me, to my lastest breath, In my body bear the death Of your dying Son divine. Wounded with His every wound, Steep my til' it has swooned In His very Blood away Be to me, O virgin, nigh Lest in flames I burn and die, In His awe-full judgement day. Saviour, when my life shall leave me, Through your mother's prayers receive me With the fruits of victory. While body here decays May my soul your goodness praise, Safe in heaven eternally.