by St. Alphonsus de Liguori
Mary’s clients are not using empty words, or just speaking at random, when they call her “Mother.” It is because they know no other name for her and never tire of calling her “Mother.” Yes, she really is our mother. Not according to the flesh, of course, but spiritually. She is the mother of our souls and of our salvation.
When sin deprived our souls of grace, it also deprived them of life. Jesus, our Redeemer, with an excess of mercy and love, came to restore this life by his own death on the cross. He himself declared, I came that they may have life and may have it more abundantly (Jn 10:10). Jesus said “more abundantly” because, as the theologians teach, Jesus Christ brought us more benefits through the Redemption than we had lost through Adam’s sin. By reconciling us with God, he made himself the Father of our souls in the new law of grace, as the prophet Isaiah foretold: He shall be called … the Father of the world to come, the prince of peace (Isa 9:6). Now, if Jesus was the Father of our souls then Mary was the Mother, because in giving us Jesus she gave us true life. And by offering her son’s life on Mount Calvary for our salvation, she brought us forth to the life of grace.
The Fathers tell us that Mary became our spiritual mother on two occasions. The first, according to Saint Albert the Great, was when she merited to conceive in her virginal womb the Son of God. Even more clearly does Saint Bernardine of Siena tell us this: “The Blessed Virgin, by her consent to the Son’s Incarnation, with the most intense ardor sought and obtained the salvation of all. By this consent she dedicated herself to the salvation of all. So much so that ever since, she has carried us in her womb as a true mother carries the children of her flesh.”
Speaking of our Redeemer’s birth, Saint Luke says that Mary brought forth her firstborn son (Lk 2:7). A certain author remarks that since the evangelist speaks of Mary’s “firstborn,” are we to suppose that later she had other children? But then he replies to his own question, asserting that if it is of faith that according to the flesh Mary had no other children but Jesus, then she must have had other children who were spiritual. We are those spiritual children. Our Lord revealed this to Saint Gertrude, who was puzzled on reading this text from the Gospel. She could not understand how, if Mary had no other children but Jesus, he could be called the firstborn. God explained it to her, saying that Jesus was Mary’s firstborn according to the flesh, but that all men are her second-born according to the spirit.
In view of this we can understand why the Canticle of Canticles says in reference to Mary: Your body is a heap of wheat encircled with lilies (Cant 7:2). Saint Ambrose explains this verse by saying: “One grain of wheat was in the Virgin’s womb, Christ Jesus. But we say ‘heap of wheat’ because this single grain contained virtually all the elect, so that he was the firstborn of many brethren.” And the Abbot Saint William writes that Mary, in bringing forth Jesus, our Savior and our life, brought forth many unto salvation. “By giving birth to life itself, she gave life to many.”
Madonna and Child, Giovanni Battista Salvi da Sassoferrato, 1600s
The second occasion on which Mary became our spiritual mother was on Mount Calvary, when she so sorrowfully offered the life of her beloved son to the Eternal Father for our salvation. “As she cooperated by her love in the birth of the faithful to the life of her beloved Son to the Eternal Father for our salvation. Mother of all who are members of the one Head, Jesus Christ.” This is the meaning of the words of the sacred Canticle as applied to Mary: … they charged me with the care of the vineyards: my own vineyard I have not cared for (Cant 1:5). In order to save our souls, Mary was content to sacrifice her son’s life, as Saint William the Abbot comments: “That she might save many souls, she exposed her own soul to death.” And who but Jesus was the soul of Mary? He was her whole life and all her love. And that is what Simeon meant when he announced that one day a sword would pierce her soul (Lk 2:35). This sword was the lance that pierced the side of Jesus, her very soul. It was then that, through her sorrows, she brought us forth to eternal life. And that is why we can call ourselves “children of Mary’s sorrows.” Our most loving mother was always completely united to the will of God. And therefore, says Saint Bonaventure, when she saw that the love of the Father toward humankind was so great that in order to save men he willed the death of his son; and on the other hand, that the son, out of love, wished to die for us, in order to conform herself to what Saint Bonaventure reverently calls the excessive love of both the Father and the Son, Mary also, for the salvation of men, offered and consented to the death of her son.
It is true that Jesus wanted to be alone in dying for the human race. I have trodden the winepress alone (Isa 63:3). But when he saw Mary’s eagerness to share in man’s salvation, he so arranged it that she, by offering the life of her Jesus, should cooperate in our salvation and in that way become the mother of our souls. Our Savior manifested this when he looked down from the cross upon his mother and upon Saint John, who stood at its foot, and said to Mary: Behold your son (Jn 19:26). By that he meant to say: Behold the whole human race, which is even now being born to the life of grace as a result of the sacrifice you have made of my life for the salvation of all. Turning to the disciple, he said: Behold your Mother (Jn 19:26). By these words, says Saint Bernardine of Siena, Mary became mother not only to Saint John, but also to all men, because of the love she bore them. Sylveira makes the reflection that Saint John himself gives us this idea by the wording he uses in his Gospel: Then he said to the disciple, “Behold your Mother.” Take notice, Christ did not say these words specifically to John, but to the “disciple.” This was to show that the Savior assigned Mary as the common mother to all who, because they are Christians, bear the name of “disciple.” “John is a particular name, but ‘disciple’ is a general name and it shows that Mary is being given as a mother to all.”
Blessed are they who live under the protection of a mother so loving and so powerful! The prophet David, before Mary was even born, sought salvation from God by dedicating himself to her as a son. He prayed: Save the son of your handmaid (Ps 85:16). “Of what handmaid?” asks Saint Augustine. He answers, “Of her who said, ‘Behold the handmaid of the Lord.’” And who, asks Cardinal Bellarmine, will dare to snatch these children from the bosom of Mary once they have turned to her to be saved from their enemies? What power of hell, what temptation can overcome them, once they have placed their confidence in the protection of this great mother?
Blessed are they who live under the protection of a mother so loving and so powerful!
It is said that when a whale sees her little ones in danger, from storms or from hunters, she opens her mouth and swallows them. Novarinus applies this to Mary, and says that when Mary sees her children in danger she receives them into her bosom and protects them there until she brings them to the harbor of salvation. O most loving Mother, most compassionate Mother, praise be to you forever, and praise be to God forever, for having given you to us as our mother and as a refuge from all the dangers of life.
The Blessed Virgin revealed to Saint Bridget that she is like a mother who sees her child surrounded by the enemy’s swords. She wants to do everything in her power to save him. “… And this I shall do for my children, sinners though they be, as long as they turn to me for help.” There is no doubt, then, that in every battle with hell we shall surely win if we fly to Mary and repeat over and over again: “We fly to thy patronage, O holy Mother of God.” O how many victories have the faithful won over the forces of hell because they had recourse to Mary with this short but powerful prayer! It was with this prayer that that great servant of God, Sister Mary Crucified, the Benedictine nun, always conquered the demons.
Rejoice, therefore, you who are Mary’s children. And know that Mary receives and accepts everyone who wants to be her child. Why should you fear to be lost when this mother defends and protects you? Saint Bonaventure says: “Say it, my soul, and say it most confidently: I rejoice and exult because, whatever my judgment will be, it depends on what my Brother and my Mother say.” The same thought makes Saint Anselm cry out with joy: “O blessed hope! O safe refuge! The Mother of God is my mother! How firm should be our confidence, since our salvation depends on the judgment of so good a Brother and so tender a Mother.” It is then our mother who calls out to us: Whosoever is a little one, let him come to me (Prov 9:4). Little children always have the word “mother” on their lips. And every time they are frightened, they immediately raise their voice and cry out: “Mother! Mother!” — O sweetest Mary, O most loving Mother, this is precisely what you want us to do. You want us to cry out to you like children in every danger. You want us to run to you always, because you want to help and save us, as you have in the past helped and saved all your children who ran to you for help.
Prayer
O most holy Mother, how is it possible that I, who am so wicked, should have so holy a mother? How is it that I should still love creatures when I have a mother all aflame with the love of God? How is it that I have a mother so rich in virtues and I am so spiritually poor? It is true, most loving Mother, that I do not deserve to be your child, because my sinful life has made me unworthy. I will be quite content if you accept me merely as your servant. Just to be numbered among your lowliest servants, I would give up all the treasures of the world. Yes, I would be satisfied with this if only I could continue to call you “Mother.”
This name consoles me, softens my heart, and reminds me of my obligation to love you. It encourages me to put my confidence in you. When the memory of my sins and the thought of God’s justice terrify me, I am soothed by the conviction that you are my mother. Allow me then to call you “mother.” I do call you “mother” and will always call you “mother.”
In this valley of tears, you must be, after God, my refuge, my hope, and my love. I hope to die entrusting my soul to you and saying: “My Mother, help me, have pity on me!”
Amen.
St. Alphonsus de Liguori was an Italian Bishop, a Doctor of the Church, and the founder of the Redemptorists. He is known as one of the chief moral theologians of the 18th century, and was also a composer, musician, artist and poet. He was canonized in 1839.
This passage is an excerpt from The Glories of Mary by Saint Alphonsus de Liguori. This work is part of the public domain, but you can purchase a copy of it at this affiliate link.