Mary’s Hope

 “Behold, this child is destined for the fall and rise of many in Israel, and to be a sign that will be contradicted and you yourself a sword will pierce so that the thoughts of many hearts may be revealed.” Luke 2:34-:35

When my oldest was in college, he got sick with whooping cough. I remember it was Holy Saturday when he called me that he was going to the university clinic because he was feeling really bad. They kept him overnight. Of course, mother hen was not able to sleep that night. As I sat by myself in the darkness of my living room, I started thinking of Mary, and how she must she have felt on that Sabbath after they crucified her Son. 

I felt her presence that night. I closed my eyes and united my agonizing heart to hers. I felt her sadness. I contemplated the horror that she witnessed on Good Friday. I saw her painful tears as they rolled down her face.  I remembered Simeon’s prediction that a sword would pierce her heart. And I wept with her because I felt her pain. In that moment, her tears were my tears, and her pain was my pain. 

I grabbed my rosary and I asked her to join me in praying for my son. I knew she could comprehend the way only a mother can how I was feeling that night, so far away from my son. I felt totally helpless and I knew that’s exactly how she felt as she stood under the cross. She felt helpless. 

As I prayed the sorrowful mysteries, I began to experience Mary’s hope. I realized that in the midst of her pain, Mary had not lost her hope. She knew that death was not the end of the story. Her Son had said it over and over again: “The Son of Man will be delivered over to the chief priests and the teachers of the law. They will condemn him to death and will hand him over to the Gentiles to be mocked and flogged and crucified. On the third day he will be raised to life!” Matthew 20:18–19. Everything had come to pass just as He had predicted. Therefore, Mary had hope that her Son would be raised to life on the third day. But waiting was still difficult. 

As I meditated on Mary’s hope, I also felt hope that on Easter Sunday I would receive good news. Just as Mary waited for her Son to be raised to life, I waited for my son to be discharged and to return to health. 

I grabbed onto Mary’s hope that night thirteen years ago and I have never let go. When I find myself in what seems to be a hopeless situation, I pray a Hail Mary and Mary’s hope envelops me just like it did on that Easter Eve. 

Whatever you are going through, pray to Mary today, and ask her to fill you with her hope. Trust that your waiting time during Holy Saturday will not last forever. Your Easter Sunday is coming soon. Allow Mary’s hope to quench your sorrow. Sit with her in hope until the Easter Son shines down upon your life in all His glory. 

Mama Mary, pray for us. 

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