Memorial of Our Lady of Sorrows Readings for the M

Paul, an Apostle of Christ Jesus by command of God our savior and of Christ Jesus our hope, to Timothy, my true child in faith: grace, mercy, and peace from God the Father and Christ Jesus our Lord. I am grateful to him who has strengthened me, Christ Jesus our Lord, because he considered me trustworthy in appointing me to the ministry. I was once a blasphemer and a persecutor and an arrogant man, but I have been mercifully treated because I acted out of ignorance in my unbelief. Indeed, the grace of our Lord has been abundant, along with the faith and love that are in Christ Jesus.

R. (see 5) You are my inheritance, O Lord. Keep me, O God, for in you I take refuge; I say to the LORD, "My Lord are you." O LORD, my allotted portion and my cup, you it is who hold fast my lot. R. You are my inheritance, O Lord. I bless the LORD who counsels me; even in the night my heart exhorts me. I set the LORD ever before me; with him at my right hand I shall not be disturbed. R. You are my inheritance, O Lord. You will show me the path to life, fullness of joys in your presence, the delights at your right hand forever. R. You are my inheritance, O Lord.

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 had passed. Oh, how sad and sore distressed Was that Mother highly blessed 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 sweet Mother! font of love, Touch my spirit from above, Make my heart with yours accord. Make me feel as you have 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 Savior crucified. Let me share with you his pain, Who for all our sins was slain, Who for me in torments died. Let me mingle tears with you, Mourning him who mourned for me, All the days that I may live. By the cross with you to stay, There with you to weep and pray, Is all I ask of you to give. Virgin of all virgins blest! Listen to my fond request: Let me share your grief divine. Let me to my latest breath, In my body bear the death Of that dying Son of yours. Wounded with his every wound, Steep my soul till it has 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 you shall call me hence, Be your Mother my defense, Be your cross my victory. While my body here decays, May my soul your goodness praise, Safe in heaven eternally. Amen. (Alleluia)

R. Alleluia, alleluia. Blessed are you, O Virgin Mary; without dying you won the martyr's crown beneath the Cross of the Lord. R. Alleluia, alleluia.

Standing by the cross of Jesus were his mother and his mother's sister, Mary the wife of Clopas, and Mary Magdalene. When Jesus saw his mother and the disciple there whom he loved he said to his mother, "Woman, behold, your son." Then he said to the disciple, "Behold, your mother." And from that hour the disciple took her into his home.

Jesus' father and mother were amazed at what was said about him; and Simeon blessed them and said to Mary his mother, "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."