Glory in the Cross

In the midst of gearing up for school and choir, the additional meetings and training sessions, as well as trying to squeeze the last bits of summer out of September, two important dates of the liturgical calendar often sneak by without much notice: the Exaltation of the Holy Cross (September 14) and Our Lady of Sorrows (September 15).

The date for the feast of the Holy Cross dates back to fourth-century Jerusalem. The Church of the Holy Sepulchre was dedicated on September 13 and the next day the True Cross was brought outside the newly-dedicated church for all of the faithful to venerate. Today we still venerate that cross every time we make the sign of the cross or pray before the cross. In fact, we glory in the cross (Galatians 6:14).

The next day (September 15) we celebrate the memorial of Our Lady of Sorrows. Mary stood at the foot of the cross next to her son and this day stands immediately next to the feast of the cross.

These two days allow us to contemplate one of the great mysteries of God's plan, that of the role of suffering. Most of us spend our lives trying to avoid suffering, but suffering and sorrow are integral to the whole plan of salvation:

The one who desires to avoid suffering, to keep it at bay, keeps life itself and its greatness at bay...There is no love without suffering - without the suffering of renouncing oneself, of the transformation and purification of self for true freedom. Where there is nothing worth suffering for, even life loses its value. The Eucharist - the centre of our Christian being - is founded on Jesus' sacrifice for us; it is born from the suffering of love which culminated in the Cross. We live by this love that gives itself. It gives us the courage and strength to suffer with Christ and for him in this world, knowing that in this very way our life becomes great and mature and true. (Pope Benedict XVI, June 28, 2008).

The Memorial of Our Lady of Sorrows also is one of the few days on the calendar that still has a sequence, "Stabat mater dolorosa." One the most beautiful (and sorrowful) musical settings of this is by Giovanni Battista Pergolesi (1710-36) who himself died at a young age due to tuberculosis. Below is the first movement, for soprano and alto soloists (sung in this video by a countertenor).