The Fourth Station Jesus Meets His Mother
We adore you O Christ and we praise you.
Because by your Holy Cross you have redeemed the world.
In this station we remember all mothers.
‘This Child is destined for the fall and rising of many,
a sign that will be contradicted’ (Luke 2:34).
The encounter between Mother and Son
cannot be limited to paltry words.
In a world of wars, cruelty and human trafficking,
mothers follow dark paths to
cross unbearable thresholds of pain.
Mothers enfold our fractured world in a
heart-felt, embraced mantle of prayer.
Mary teaches us by her quiet example of discipleship
how to stay close to Jesus to the last.
(The “Stabat Mater” is a 13th-century Christian hymn to Mary, which portrays her suffering as Jesus Christ’s mother during his crucifixion. Its author may have been the Franciscan friar Fra Jacopone da Todi or Pope Innocent III.)
At the Cross her station keeping,
stood the mournful Mother weeping,
close to Jesus to the last.
Through her heart, His sorrow sharing,
all His bitter anguish bearing,
now at length the sword has passed.
O how sad and sore distressed
was that Mother, highly blest,
of the sole-begotten One.
Christ above in torment hangs,
she beneath beholds the pangs
of her dying glorious Son.
Is there one who would not weep,
whelmed in miseries so deep,
Christ’s dear Mother to behold?
Can the human heart refrain
from partaking in her pain,
in that Mother’s pain untold?
Bruised, derided, cursed, defiled,
she beheld her tender Child
All with bloody scourges rent:
For the sins of His own nation,
saw Him hang in desolation,
Till His spirit forth He sent.
O thou Mother! fount of love!
Touch my spirit from above,
make my heart with thine accord:
Make me feel as thou hast felt;
make my soul to glow and melt
with the love of Christ my Lord.
Holy Mother! pierce me through,
in my heart each wound renew
of my Saviour crucified:
Let me share with thee His pain,
who for all my sins was slain,
who for me in torments died.
Let me mingle tears with thee,
mourning Him who mourned for me,
all the days that I may live:
By the Cross with thee to stay,
there with thee to weep and pray,
is all I ask of thee to give.
Virgin of all virgins blest!,
Listen to my fond request:
let me share thy grief divine;
Let me, to my latest breath,
in my body bear the death
of that dying Son of thine.
Wounded with His every wound,
steep my soul till it hath swooned,
in His very Blood away;
Be to me, O Virgin, nigh,
lest in flames I burn and die,
in His awful Judgment Day.
Christ, when Thou shalt call me hence,
by Thy Mother my defense,
by Thy Cross my victory;
While my body here decays,
may my soul Thy goodness praise,
safe in paradise with Thee. Amen.
Pray The Memorare
Remember, O most gracious Virgin Mary,
that never was it known
that anyone who fled to thy protection,
implored thy help,
or sought thy intercession,
was left unaided.
Inspired by this confidence
I fly unto thee,
O Virgin of virgins, my Mother.
To thee do I come,
before thee I stand,
sinful and sorrowful.
O Mother of the Word Incarnate,
despise not my petitions,
but in thy mercy hear and answer me.
‘O Lady, full of God’s own grace’ (composed by Estelle White) or
As I kneel before you,
As I bow my head and prayer,
Take this day, make it yours
And fill me with your love.
Ave Maria, gratia plena,
Dominus tecum, benedictatu.
All I have I give you,
Every dream and wish are yours,
Mother of Christ, Mother of mine,
Present them to my Lord.
As I knell before you,
and I see your smiling face,
Every thought, every word
Is lost in your embrace.
(composed by Maria Parkinson)