A Sunday Feast of the Epiphany Thought To Start the Week Off Right
The Feast of the Epiphany, as traditionally observed on January 6th, falls on a Sunday this year. So, happily, both the traditional and Novus Ordo Calendars unite in celebrating this wonderful feast on the same day.
And so our Chirstmas joy continues. If you've read recent posts, however, you know that our family has endured a devastating injury to one of our sons. Since that time, our son has succumbed to his injury. In our suffering, we have been blessed, though, with moments of joy during this joyful Christmas Season. With that as background, I happened upon some thoughts about this strange, even unsettling mix of joy and pain we've been experiencing. In The Inner Life of the Soul, the section titled "Our Lady of Pain" informs us of the pain and suffering of Our Lord and Our Lady, despite the joy of His Nativity, from those first days in Bethlehem:
Alas! When did He not know pain? Born in a stable in the bleak December, cradled on straw...you and I, sinners, would have felt acutely the cold and the strangely instantaneous mortification of the senses; and how then was it for the Sinless?...
...the one who knew it best, and who comprehended it nearest, was Mary the Mother...In the gospel, we find the strange words of Simeon's prophecy...'this Child is set for the fall and for the resurrection of many in Israel, and for a sign which shall be contradicted; and thy own soul a sword shall pierce.'...
...the first day of January is emphatically the feast of the Circumcision, of the cutting, of the suffering, of the sharp incisive pain (Note: as observed in the traditional church liturgical calendar).
How did the Mother endure this?...how did she feel when she beheld the blood drops starting, and foresaw in them the awful portents of the agony in the garden, and the horrors of the scourging and of the absolute outpouring from every vein upon the cross? Think gravely, steadily, in the midst of your Christmas joys: 'Suffering was the condition of Christ's life. It was the unseasonable companion of His childhood. There was no moment He was free of it. He told St. Catherine of Siena that during His infancy He suffered especially every Friday. He was the Crucified Jesus even from the days of Bethlehem. His suffering exceeded all martyrdoms, even in each hour of His Infant Life.' It follows from this - do you not perceive it? - that she whom we call our Lady of Joy was likewise our Lady of Pain. All those thirty-three years of unparalleled delight, the Mother, for all her unquestionable gladness, was standing, nevertheless, beside the cross..."
Such words unite our family with Our Blessed Mother as we witnessed that cross born by our son. That cross becomes ours as we remain close to him and cling to our hope in the Resurrection of the Dead.
But now a question is posed that any parent can understand:
"...But would she have have desired a different lot for him? We know what it is to think we can bear a cross ourselves which we should shrink to see our dearest endure. Would the Blessed Mother have spared her Child His suffering if she could?"
The answer calls for deep and silent meditation. If you're undergoing similar pain during this joyful season, you'll capture this instantly. If not, I urge you to take a few moments to try to absorb the profound nature of these words:
"Sister Mary of Agreda says that our Lord revealed to her the He never in His human nature exercised the act of choice but once, and that was when He chose suffering. Let us not add many words to this startling revelation. Rather, in the darkness of the stable at Bethlehem, let us kneel beside Mary, bending silently over her Baby with the fresh wound in His innocent flesh. Think long, think quietly. It may be that, as we kneel there, we shall see through the tears those blood drops shine with a heavenly glory, and the Mother's face reflect their radiant and unearthly splendors; and among the deep lessons we shall learn from the Circumcision, not the least will be this, that suffering is God's angel, and loss for His sake is eternal gain, and that among her deepest joys our Mother counts to-day her blood-bought title of Our Lady of Pain."
How I looked forward to days of joy, peace, and respite from ordinary life in the days between Christmas and New Year's. How different this year has been. How I've tried each year to remain recollected in the days following New Year's so that the Epiphany might find me waiting for the arrival of the Three Wise Men. How different this year has been. But with this deeper understanding of the suffering of Our Lord and Our Lady, that difference now becomes a way to unite myself to them as never before.
While not all of us have experienced extraordinary pain and suffering during this Christmas Season, we all have and likely will at different times in our lives. When we do, pray that we remember to pray to and draw consolation from Our Lady of Pain.
And so our Chirstmas joy continues. If you've read recent posts, however, you know that our family has endured a devastating injury to one of our sons. Since that time, our son has succumbed to his injury. In our suffering, we have been blessed, though, with moments of joy during this joyful Christmas Season. With that as background, I happened upon some thoughts about this strange, even unsettling mix of joy and pain we've been experiencing. In The Inner Life of the Soul, the section titled "Our Lady of Pain" informs us of the pain and suffering of Our Lord and Our Lady, despite the joy of His Nativity, from those first days in Bethlehem:
Alas! When did He not know pain? Born in a stable in the bleak December, cradled on straw...you and I, sinners, would have felt acutely the cold and the strangely instantaneous mortification of the senses; and how then was it for the Sinless?...
...the one who knew it best, and who comprehended it nearest, was Mary the Mother...In the gospel, we find the strange words of Simeon's prophecy...'this Child is set for the fall and for the resurrection of many in Israel, and for a sign which shall be contradicted; and thy own soul a sword shall pierce.'...
...the first day of January is emphatically the feast of the Circumcision, of the cutting, of the suffering, of the sharp incisive pain (Note: as observed in the traditional church liturgical calendar).
How did the Mother endure this?...how did she feel when she beheld the blood drops starting, and foresaw in them the awful portents of the agony in the garden, and the horrors of the scourging and of the absolute outpouring from every vein upon the cross? Think gravely, steadily, in the midst of your Christmas joys: 'Suffering was the condition of Christ's life. It was the unseasonable companion of His childhood. There was no moment He was free of it. He told St. Catherine of Siena that during His infancy He suffered especially every Friday. He was the Crucified Jesus even from the days of Bethlehem. His suffering exceeded all martyrdoms, even in each hour of His Infant Life.' It follows from this - do you not perceive it? - that she whom we call our Lady of Joy was likewise our Lady of Pain. All those thirty-three years of unparalleled delight, the Mother, for all her unquestionable gladness, was standing, nevertheless, beside the cross..."
Such words unite our family with Our Blessed Mother as we witnessed that cross born by our son. That cross becomes ours as we remain close to him and cling to our hope in the Resurrection of the Dead.
But now a question is posed that any parent can understand:
"...But would she have have desired a different lot for him? We know what it is to think we can bear a cross ourselves which we should shrink to see our dearest endure. Would the Blessed Mother have spared her Child His suffering if she could?"
The answer calls for deep and silent meditation. If you're undergoing similar pain during this joyful season, you'll capture this instantly. If not, I urge you to take a few moments to try to absorb the profound nature of these words:
"Sister Mary of Agreda says that our Lord revealed to her the He never in His human nature exercised the act of choice but once, and that was when He chose suffering. Let us not add many words to this startling revelation. Rather, in the darkness of the stable at Bethlehem, let us kneel beside Mary, bending silently over her Baby with the fresh wound in His innocent flesh. Think long, think quietly. It may be that, as we kneel there, we shall see through the tears those blood drops shine with a heavenly glory, and the Mother's face reflect their radiant and unearthly splendors; and among the deep lessons we shall learn from the Circumcision, not the least will be this, that suffering is God's angel, and loss for His sake is eternal gain, and that among her deepest joys our Mother counts to-day her blood-bought title of Our Lady of Pain."
How I looked forward to days of joy, peace, and respite from ordinary life in the days between Christmas and New Year's. How different this year has been. How I've tried each year to remain recollected in the days following New Year's so that the Epiphany might find me waiting for the arrival of the Three Wise Men. How different this year has been. But with this deeper understanding of the suffering of Our Lord and Our Lady, that difference now becomes a way to unite myself to them as never before.
While not all of us have experienced extraordinary pain and suffering during this Christmas Season, we all have and likely will at different times in our lives. When we do, pray that we remember to pray to and draw consolation from Our Lady of Pain.
Happy Feast of the Epiphany!
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