15/09/2026
Memorial of Our Lady of Sorrows
Tuesday, 15 September 2026
On the day following the feast of the Exaltation of the Cross each year we honour the Blessed Virgin Mary as Our Lady of Sorrows.
Mary wept for her son on the day of His trial and crucifixion, she stood by His cross as He died, she held him in her lap as He was taken from the cross for burial.
Standing for us at the foot of the cross, Mary, given to us as a mother, is a model of patience, trust, perseverance in faith, hope and love. Mary shows us the meaning of true love which gives itself completely, pours itself out for others and then is given back abundantly.
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Stabat Mater
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 you Mother, fount 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 our Lord.
Holy Mother, pierce me through;
in my heart each wound renew
of my Saviour 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 best,
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 judgement day.
Christ, when you shall call me hence,
be your Mother my defence,
be your cross my victory.
While my body here decays,
may my soul your goodness praise,
safe in paradise with you.
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Our Lady of Sorrows, pray for us!
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