OUR Lady died of Divine love, like her adorable Son. The foundation of
this belief is, that having but one life with her Divine Son, she
could have but one and the same death. In reality, they were two
distinct persons; but they had one heart, one soul, one mind, one
life!
If this was said of the first Christians; if Jesus Christ lived in St.
Paul, because his spirit was dead in the Heart of his Saviour, with
much greater truth could it be said that Jesus Christ and His Most
Holy Mother had but one heart and one soul, and, consequently, one
life; for there never was a Mother so loving or so much loved; and the
quality of Mother and only Son gives us the idea of all that is most
perfect and most excellent in love.
If the Apostle St. Paul could say that he had no other life than that
of his Divine Master, with greater reason could Mary, the Mother of
this amiable Master, say: 'I have no other life than that of my Divine
Son: He lives in me and I in Him.' And having lived the life of her
Son, she must have died the death of her Son. This death was
prophesied to her, by holy Simeon, in these words: 'Thy own soul a
sword shall pierce.'
Three kinds of swords can pierce the soul: the first, the sword of the
Word of God, which, in the saying of the Apostle, 'is more penetrating
than a two-edged sword'; the second, the sword of suffering and
sorrow, according to the prophecy of Simeon; and the third, the sword
of Divine Love, of which Jesus Christ speaks: 'I came not to bring
peace, but the sword.' Now, the soul of Our Lady was pierced by all
these three kinds of swords in the death of her Son.
When a heavy blow falls upon an object, everything near it feels its
effects. Thus, although the body of the Most Holy Virgin was not
united to that of her Divine Son in His Passion, yet, her soul being
inseparably united to Him, it follows that all the blows with which
His Blessed Body was bruised wounded her soul.
Love causes us to feel the afflictions of those we love, as we see in
St. Paul, who was weak with the weak, afflicted with those in
tribulation; and yet the soul of this Apostle certainly was not so
closely united to the faithful as the soul of Our Lady to the soul and
body of Jesus. No wonder, then, that the thorns, the nails and lance,
which pierced the head, hands, feet and side of Our Lord, pierced also
through and through the soul of His Mother.
Truly may we exclaim: O Most Holy Virgin! how deeply was your soul
pierced by the love, the suffering, and the words of your Son! And,
oh, how deep a wound love gave you, when you saw the Son, Who loved
you so much, and Who possessed all the affections of your heart,
expiring through love! How bitterly did sorrow, too, wound your soul,
when you saw the sufferings that led your only Son to death! And, as
for His words, like a strong wind they inflamed your love, excited
your sorrow, and almost engulfed the vessel of your heart in an ocean
of grief.
Love caused Mary to be penetrated with sorrow; and the sufferings of
her Son were expressed in words that pierced her heart like darts.
And, as a stag wounded by the hunter, flees with the arrow fixed in
the wound, to die afar off, and sometimes, long after it has received
the blow; so Our Lady, wounded by the sword of sorrow in the Passion
of her Son upon Calvary, survived the wound she had received many
years, but at last it caused her death. Oh, loving wound! Oh, sword of
charity! how dear and beloved wast thou to the tender heart which thou
didst pierce!
The philosopher Aristotle narrates that when the wild goats of Candia
are wounded by a dart, they have recourse to the herb dittany, and by
means of this plant the dart comes out of the wound. Ah! who is there
that does not feel his heart wounded by the thought of the Passion of
Jesus Christ, contemplating Him scourged, crowned with thorns and
crucified? But, alas! I scarcely dare to say it: the greater number
who are pierced by this dart run quickly, like those goats, to the
dittany of worldly consolations in order to remove from their heart
the wound of Divine love. The Blessed Virgin, on the contrary,
zealously preserved this dart, and it formed all her glory and her
triumph.