Lent with Loretto, week seven: the seventh sorrow of Mary

Seventh Sorrow of Mary: Mary Buries Her Son

Reflection I: by Shaista

The seventh sorrow of Mary, when she buries her Son, shows us the deepest pain a mother can feel, but also the quiet strength of her faith. After seeing Jesus suffer and die on the Cross, Mary now has to face something even harder: letting Him go and placing His body in the tomb. The Son she loved, cared for, and raised is now lying still and silent. His body is gently wrapped and laid in a dark place, and everything feels empty and hopeless.

In the Gospel of Mark (15:40–47) and John (19:38–42), we see how people like Joseph of Arimathea and the women treated Jesus’ body with great care and respect. They wrapped Him in linen and placed Him in the tomb with love. But for Mary, this moment is much more personal. Her pain is not just something she sees—it is something she feels deep in her heart. She is a mother who has lost her child, and that kind of pain is very hard to explain. It brings a feeling of loneliness and emptiness that many people experience when they lose someone they love.

Mary represents all women and all people who have ever felt this kind of deep sorrow. As Rose Alma Schuler explains, many women have buried their loved ones and felt like life has no meaning anymore. Mary also felt this deep sadness and isolation. But even in this dark moment, she did not lose her faith. Deep inside, she believed that this was not the end. Her faith helped her stay strong and gave her hope, even when everything seemed lost.

Mary teaches us something very important. She shows us that suffering and faith can go hand in hand. Feeling pain does not mean we have lost faith. Instead, faith helps us carry our pain. She reminds us that there is no suffering in our life, whether it is emotional, mental, physical, or spiritual, that Jesus did not experience, and that she also did not understand as His mother.

When we go through hard times and feel alone, hurt, or broken, we can look to Mary for comfort. She understands our pain. She shows us how to trust God even when we do not understand what is happening. Even when life feels heavy and full of sorrow, Mary’s life tells us that suffering is not the end. God can turn it into something beautiful, something full of love and hope.

As we think about this last sorrow of Mary, we are invited to give our own pain to her. We can ask her to pray for us and help us stay strong. Just like she trusted God, we are also called to trust Him. And just like her sorrow did not end in darkness but in the joy of the Resurrection, we also believe that our suffering will one day lead to joy.

Reflection II: by Saima

Today, we stand together with Mary, the mother of Jesus, at the sealed tomb. The stone rests heavey at the entrance and silence fills the space where life once breathed. As a community, we imagine her grief, her love, her letting go. We, too, know moments of sorrow, moments when something feels lost or uncertain. And like Mary, we bring those moments into prayer – perhaps whispering with her the words of Jesus: “My God, my God, why have you abandoned me?” and “Into your hands I commend my spirit.” Together, we hold both sorrow and hope.

We stand also with Mary Magdalene and the other Mary. We notice their patience, their quiet faithfulness as they wait. And we ask ourselves: how are we being called to wait with love? In our families, in our classrooms, in our friendships – where are we invited to be present, to be patient, to simply remain with one another even in difficult moments? As a group we recognize that sometimes the most powerful thing we can offer is our presence.

And as we reflect together, we turn outward as one community. We think of those who are living without safety, without peace, without closure. We name them in our hearts. And we ask: what can we do – together – to roll away the stone of injustice, fear and suffering? Maybe it is a small act, maybe it is a shared effort, but we commit ourselves to being part of that change, supporting one another as we do.

And finally we return again to Mary. In her sorrow, she still holds hope. In her letting go, she still trusts in God’s promise. As a community, we ask for that same faith. That together, we may carry hope when it feels fragile, that together, we may choose love event when it is difficult, and that together, we may be Christ’s presence in the world.

May we walk from this moment not alone, but united – in faith, in hope, and in love.

Amen