Lessons from Our Lady of Sorrows: Standing with Suffering

A robed figure standing beneath a wooden cross at sunset

Memorial of Our Lady of Sorrows

First Reading: 1 Corinthians 12:12-14, 27-31a

Responsorial Psalm: Psalm 100:1b-2, 3, 4, 5

Gospel: John 19:25-27

Daily readings: https://bible.usccb.org/bible/readings/091526.cfm

Standing by the cross of Jesus were his mother, his mother’s sister, Mary the wife of Clopas, and Mary Magdalene. That single word — standing — carries everything. Others fled. Others watched from a distance. Others could not bear to be close. Mary stood. She did not look away. She could not fix anything, could not stop what was happening, could not reach her son. She stood and watched and stayed. When Jesus saw her and the beloved disciple beside her, he gave them to each other: Woman, behold your son. Behold your mother. And from that hour the disciple took her into his home.

Simeon had seen this coming. At the Presentation in the Temple, when Jesus was forty days old, he blessed Mary and said: a sword will pierce your own soul. Today is the fulfillment of that sword. The Church calls her Our Lady of Sorrows and has counted seven — from Simeon’s prophecy to the burial of her son. What she carried was not a series of events but one continuous act of faithful presence through suffering she could not prevent and did not fully understand. She did not know, standing at the cross, what Sunday would bring. She stood anyway.

This is the gift she offers the rest of us who are Christ’s body: the witness that it is possible to stay. Most of us know a version of this — someone we love going through something we cannot take from them, a grief we cannot resolve, a situation where showing up is all we have. The temptation is to manage our distance, to stay helpful and in control rather than simply present. Mary’s answer is to stand. To stay in the room. To receive what is given even when what is given is a sword.

A few questions to sit with today:

1. Is there someone in my life who is suffering right now — and have I been showing up for them, or managing my distance? What would it look like to stand closer?

2. Mary could not fix what was happening to her son. Is there something in my life that I am trying to control or resolve instead of simply being present to? Can I name it and bring it to her?

3. The beloved disciple took Mary into his home from that hour. Who has become family to me through shared suffering — someone who walked through something hard with me or I with them?

4. Mary’s faithfulness was not dramatic. It was quiet and costly and unseen. Is there a quiet, costly act of love I am being asked to do right now that no one will notice?

One small thing for tomorrow:

Tomorrow, if you know someone who is carrying something heavy, do not try to fix it. Just reach out — a text, a call, a note. Let them know you are standing nearby. That is Mary’s way.

Lord Jesus, your mother stood at the foot of the cross when everything in her must have wanted to run. Give me something of her courage — the courage to stay present to suffering I cannot fix, to show up even when showing up is all I have to offer. When I am the one who is suffering, may I know that she is standing near me still, and that you placed her there. Hold me in the body you are building, where we carry one another. Amen.

If you would like to share: is there someone you have been wanting to reach out to — someone carrying a cross — that today’s feast is calling you to stand a little closer to?