Our Lady of Sorrows Novena
(To commence on September 15th)
O blessed Virgin Mary, Mother of our Redeemer! remember we are thy children, given to thee by thy Divine Son, when expiring on the cross. Mother of sorrows! by the tears which flowed from thy eyes when Saint John related how the traitor Judas sold thy Divine Son for the vile price of thirty pieces of silver; how, in the Garden of Olives, he was agonized with fear and sorrow, the blood gushing through every pore; by all the anguish that overwhelmed thy heart when thou didst hear that Jesus, the only object of thy love, was condemned to death; by the sorrow that pierced thy maternal bosom, in meeting thy only beloved Son loaded with a heavy cross, spent through loss of blood, fatigue and pain; by that heroic resignation to the divine will, which, triumphing over the sentiments of nature, sustained thee at the foot of the cross; by the excess of grief that would have robbed thee of life, had not God preserved thee for the comfort of his disciples and of his infant church; by the dolors that rent thy desolate heart when beholding thy beloved Jesus, most beautiful in his comeliness above the sons of men, become a prey to death, the ignominious death of the cross; by all the sufferings of thy most afflicted heart, obtain for us, O Mother of Mercy, true contrition for our sins, persevering fervour in the divine service, and the particular favours we solicit in this Novena.
O thou most tender and afflicted Mother, who didst sacrifice thyself on the same altar with thy beloved Son, and whose heart was penetrated by the nails that fastened him to the cross; as it was our sins inflicted those torments on thy Divine Son, we acknowledge that we justly deserve the wrath of divine justice to fall on our devoted heads. But if those very sufferings have proved our defence and protection heretofore, grant that now at least we may participate profoundly in the sorrow of which we have been the unhappy cause; and obtain, that souls hitherto so insensible to the strongest proofs of love, may, by heartfelt contrition, taste one drop of that bitter chalice of which thou didst drink so deeply.