Pro peccátis suæ gentis
vidit Iésum in torméntis,
et flagéllis súbditum.
Vidit suum dulcem Natum
moriéndo desolátum,
dum emísit spíritum.
For the sins of His own nation,
She saw Jesus wracked with torment,
All with scourges rent:
She beheld her tender Child,
Saw Him hang in desolation,
Till His spirit forth He sent.
Waiting. See Mary at the foot of the cross. Her face is turned up towards Jesus. She sees his frail body, hanging bleakly. While Mary waited, did she think of her life with Jesus? What was she remembering in her grief as he went from her? Perhaps the moment she was told of his birth? Or the miracle of turning water into the finest wine? So far from the wine vinegar he tasted on the cross. As we look with Mary, what do we remember of Jesus’ life?
Do we look at the cross and see the pain? Or do we look away, only inviting the joy of the resurrection that we know is coming?
Look at the cross. See Jesus the son, wrought with pain. See Mary the mother, stood below, watching, waiting, weeping.
A New Mission 