Her name is Mary

Her name is Mary It happened a long time ago on the narrow street in Jerusalem.

   We saw her standing t            here as Jesus came tottering under the heavy weight of the cross. He stumbled, fell, and the heavy wood of the cross crashed down on His bruised and bloody back.

   As they kicked Him and dragged Him to His feet, we saw His head lift. His mother stood there. Their glances met and there was anguish in hers and agony in His. Each lifted a hand towards the other; but their hands dropped when they savagely shoved Him forward.

   A woman at the side of the road stepped forward and with her veil wiped the blood, dirt and sweat from His face. We saw a look of utter astonishment, then exaltation light up her eyes; because there on her veil was the radiant splendor of the face of Jesus.

   We are standing at the foot of the cross now. We see Him look down at Mary and John, and He says, “Woman, behold, your son.” Then he said to the disciple [John], “Behold, your mother.”[1] And as though an electric current had coursed through us, we were all over gooseflesh.

   Because, that was when it happened! That was when she became our Mother — everybody's mother.

   This noble man, hanging in torment on that cross, was sharing with us His most precious possession, his mother.

   She is Queen of Heaven, Queen of earth, and Queen of the Universe.

   She is full of grace, blessed among women, blessed among all people from ever to forever.

   She is mother of us all, because Jesus said so. And so we cry out, "Our souls magnify the Lord! He has done great things for us." His own mother is our life, our sweetness and our hope.

   Her name is Mary — she is our mother and we are the Church.