Print Share Calendar Diocesan Locator. The following meditations on the Sorrowful Mysteries of the Rosary are offered as a prayer for all life, from conception to natural death. Let us pray that Christ might hear the prayers of all who suffer from the culture of death, and that he might deliver them from the hands of their persecutors. Holy Mary, Our Lady of Sorrows: Hail Mary, full of grace Glory to the Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy Spirit: Let us pray for all innocent victims, that by the merits of his most holy Passion, Christ might deliver them and grant them eternal life.
He is the King of all the world, through whom all things were made. He is the one who will judge the living and the dead at the end of time. Saint Therese of Lisieux. Our Lady of Laus. Visions of Saint John Bosco.
The Mysteries of The Rosary
Catherine Laboure and the Miraculous Medal. Visions of Saint Gertrude. Saint Catherine of Siena. Saint Martin de Porres. Saint John Vianney the Cure of Ars. Saint Francis of Assisi. Miracles of the Eucharist of Lanciano: Cascia - Siena - Orvieto. Visions of Saint Margaret Mary Alacoque. Saint Elizabeth of Hungary. Miracles of the Scapular. Our Lady of Perpetual Help. Saint Peter Julian Eymard. Our Lady of All Nations. Saint Paul of the Cross. Saint Joseph of Cupertino.
Who are the Angels? Saint Teresa of Avila. Our Lady of La Salette. Saint Augustine and Saint Monica. Visions of Saint Teresa of Avila. Saint Frances Mother Cabrini. Saint Clare of Assisi.
The Sorrowful Mysteries of the Holy Rosary
Saint Ignatius of Loyola. Blessed Anna Maria Taigi. Saint Louis Marie de Montfort. Hill of Crosses in Lithuania. Saint Catherine of Genoa.
Saint Germaine de Pibrac. Our Lady of Guadalupe. Blessed Margaret of Castello. Visionaries Mystics and Stigmatists Part I. Saint Catherine de' Ricci. Saint Margaret Mary Alacoque. Our Lady of Beauraing. Our Lady of Banneux. Saint Pade Pio and the Child Jesus. Our Lady of Pontmain. No Roman limitation was placed on the number of lashings inflicted, and often the victim didn't survive the flogging. Every vicious tear in His flesh, every drop of precious blood that flowed was for my healing.
Sorrowful Mysteries of the Rosary - Mary, Mother of God - Catholic Online
Every agonizing moment of pain He endured was to secure my peace. His punishment, my freedom. I can't even fathom the harsh treatment Jesus received in my stead. He must have cried out in pain, but He never protested. He never even tried to whisper a plea to the Father, "Stop! And they began to call out to him, "Hail, king of the Jews! Falling on their knees, they paid homage to him.
And when they had mocked him, they took off the purple robe and put his own clothes on him. Then they led him out to crucify him. Humiliation, in one form or another, is part of the package. It is only avoidable if we decide to deny Christ. Every single day, we'll be presented with moments of choice: In a shallow culture that reveres only the Self and demands tolerance of all things while it is bitterly intolerant of Christ and His Church, we can't play both sides. If we're truly following Jesus, we are going to be mocked.
We will be the object of scorn and ridicule. We are going to be attacked as closed-minded, oppressive, backward, intellectually-stunted, bigoted, fanatical. We're going to be hated and persecuted. If we're not being treated as such, perhaps we'd better re-examine our lives and our faith. If we don't stand out from the world, then we could be in serious trouble. It will cost us dearly sometimes to stand firm in our faith, to go against the current societal tide, to defend the unchanging truth that others dismiss as merely religious belief.
But the Humble Savior listened to the vile mockery spewing from the soldiers' mouths and decided that your soul and my soul was worth the degradation. He could have silenced them in an instant if He'd wanted, but He loved us - He loved them - so much that He submitted to their abuse quietly. Like a lamb to the slaughter Discipleship will exact a price -- at the very least, humiliation and scorn for His sake.
Someday it might even cost our lives. But what is the cost of the alternative? So the soldiers took charge of Jesus. Carrying his own cross, he went out to the place of the Skull which in Aramaic is called Golgotha. He was still standing after a brutal flogging that should have left him dead. His flesh is already mutilated and profusely bleeding, and His body is weak and shaky from the blood loss. Yet somehow, He withstands the pain and keeps going. I wonder if maybe the soldiers, besides being irked, weren't just a little impressed that He was still alive after all they'd done to Him.
Maybe that's why they enlisted some help for Him and made Simon carry the cross the rest of the way to Golgotha. But whether Jesus could walk or not, they were determined in their cause. Nothing was going to stop them from their final goal of execution. Satan was every bit as determined as Jesus that day and he was getting plenty of help from those blood-thirsty Roman soldiers. In this battle between Love and Evil, it was beginning to look like Satan would prevail.
Thus far he had succeeded in shredding Jesus' body and utterly humiliating Him. Not a bad day's work for a fallen angel. I wonder if perhaps it was tempting for Jesus to just lie down on the dirt road and die right there. Completely sapped of strength and in agonizing pain, I wonder if He was tempted by the thought, "I can't take another step. How many times have I had that thought? It seems to me that my cross is getting too heavy, or I have been carrying it for too long, and I can't take another step.
I feel weakened by some harsh blows, and it looks as though the enemy is winning. In faithful obedience to the Father's will, Jesus persevered. Though it seems the enemy is scoring too many points against me, I must remember he has already lost.
Sorrowful Mysteries of the Rosary
Though I'm sapped of strength and in pain, if I remain faithful, Satan will not prevail. I will never leave you.
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I have been to hell and back for you, and there's nothing to fear. Jesus said, "Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing. And the curtain of the temple was torn in two. Jesus called out with a loud voice, "Father, into your hands I commend my spirit.
The Prayers of The Rosary
This Sorrowful pilgrimage now brings me here to this lonely hill. All the agony, the beatings and the bleeding have led me somewhere I do not want to go; somewhere I resist going with all my might. Will I walk with You along this distressing road only to shrink in fear when the final moment comes? Lord, You know that is exactly what I do, time and time again. My spirit may be willing, but my flesh is so weak. I start out well enough and I pray "not my will, but Thine" because I love You. But then the choice comes, and I stop short of the dying. I choose to spare myself. But in sparing myself, I lose my life.
For whoever wants to save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for me will save it. It means the death of my own will; in small choices, in big decisions, in little ways, in old habits. It means relinquishing my right to myself, over and over again, day after day. What does a heart really sound like when it has died to itself? It sounds like this: I just want to be His own little one - if He so wants, otherwise I will be happy to be just nothing and He everything. How does a face look when the self has given up its rights? Those are the words of Your faithful servant, Blessed Teresa of Calcutta.
She put hands and feet to those words every single day while privately enduring the darkest interior pain. Is that kind of faithfulness within my grasp? I am most definitely not Mother Teresa. My vocation is quite different, but the call is the same: I'm still being called to die. Today, my dying looks a lot like the mundane, thankless, routine tasks that I have no motivation to accomplish.
Dying is me practicing patience and kindness; dying is being faithful in little things. Dying is me forgiving the one who has hurt me - really forgiving; no grudge, no animosity, no hope of vindication; just release. Dying is me, freely and generously, choosing someone else ahead of myself.