("My Father's Business," by Harold Copping)
The Third Sorrow--The loss of the child Jesus in the Temple
With what pain and desolation,
With what grief and resignation,
Mary watched her dying son.
Deep the woe of her affliction,
when she saw the crucifixion
of the sole begotten one.
Imagine Mary's fear and apprehension when young Jesus was nowhere to be found. Even though no one can watch her child every minute of every day, Mary certainly must have blamed herself. Perhaps she had cross words with him just prior to his slipping away unnoticed, or she had disciplined him, and she regretted it. Perhaps she and Joseph blamed each other, or they were caught in the uneasy web of wanting to console each other, yet there was no time, because they needed to keep searching for their son.
Each day, thousands of sons and daughters go missing. Some have left home of their own accord. Others have been abducted. Families of missing children find each day, each hour, a torment. They have searched in vain for their children, trying the same avenues over and over, until they are so weary, they simply want to stop. Yet they cannot--to stop searching feels like resigning to their child's death. Their lives are hung in a state of suspended animation--is their child alive? Or dead? Some mothers will go to their grave never knowing. When the phone rings, does it bring relief? Or will it bring grief?
Let us pray. (silence)
Omniscient and omnipresent God, you call the stars by name and can count the number of raindrops in a thundercloud. No one is absent from your sight. Attend to the fears and grief of the families who mourn their separation from their missing children. Incline the ears of the runaway to hear your small still voice. Lend your aid and protection to the missing children who are in danger and cannot defend themselves. When the lost are found, when the absent become present, help us to ponder these things in our hearts in the same way the Blessed Virgin Mary did, upon discovering Jesus in the temple. In the name of Jesus, the Good Shepherd, finder of lost sheep, we pray. Amen.
With what pain and desolation,
With what grief and resignation,
Mary watched her dying son.
Deep the woe of her affliction,
when she saw the crucifixion
of the sole begotten one.
Imagine Mary's fear and apprehension when young Jesus was nowhere to be found. Even though no one can watch her child every minute of every day, Mary certainly must have blamed herself. Perhaps she had cross words with him just prior to his slipping away unnoticed, or she had disciplined him, and she regretted it. Perhaps she and Joseph blamed each other, or they were caught in the uneasy web of wanting to console each other, yet there was no time, because they needed to keep searching for their son.
Each day, thousands of sons and daughters go missing. Some have left home of their own accord. Others have been abducted. Families of missing children find each day, each hour, a torment. They have searched in vain for their children, trying the same avenues over and over, until they are so weary, they simply want to stop. Yet they cannot--to stop searching feels like resigning to their child's death. Their lives are hung in a state of suspended animation--is their child alive? Or dead? Some mothers will go to their grave never knowing. When the phone rings, does it bring relief? Or will it bring grief?
Let us pray. (silence)
Omniscient and omnipresent God, you call the stars by name and can count the number of raindrops in a thundercloud. No one is absent from your sight. Attend to the fears and grief of the families who mourn their separation from their missing children. Incline the ears of the runaway to hear your small still voice. Lend your aid and protection to the missing children who are in danger and cannot defend themselves. When the lost are found, when the absent become present, help us to ponder these things in our hearts in the same way the Blessed Virgin Mary did, upon discovering Jesus in the temple. In the name of Jesus, the Good Shepherd, finder of lost sheep, we pray. Amen.
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