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If Thou Wilt Weep My Fortunes…  

In the humble opinion of this proud man, the greatest scene of extrabiblical literature is the closure of Shakespeare’s masterpiece, “King Lear.” We follow the titular character’s sad steps, watching him stripped and stretched slowly out upon the rack of this tough world: a tragic king humbled unto the absolute, prepared for death–made humble, gentle and patient. But when at last mercy turns to him and justice strikes down his persecutors, the man of sorrows returns to the stage carrying his hallowed daughter, dead in his arms: a reverse pieta. 

This is a great mystery. What can contain it? Who might comprehend it? Lear is reduced to almost primal cries as he tries to express something of the unspeakable unknowable anguish in his heart. But is impossible.  

As the Catholic sociologist Mary Eberstadt perceives, “The predeceasing by Lear of his daughter Cordelia is the perfect symbol of the worst tragedy life can present.” But it is only a symbol, for in “Lear” we see merely in some dim mirror, the virgin sorrow of the Mother of God. 

This past week, we celebrated the Mother of Sorrows, “Mater Dolorosa,” who holds her dead Son in her arms as she is “spiritually crucified” for humanity’s sake.  

The apparitions of Our Lady of Sorrows in Kibeho Rwanda (1981 to 1989) are too sparsely known. These messages were all approved by Pope Saint John Paul II and grimly ratified by the horrific genocide they predicted. Central to Our Lady’s mission was the restoration of the Seven Sorrows Rosary–a medieval devotion developed by the Servite order.  

Our Lady said, “What I am asking you to do is to repent. If you say the Rosary of the Seven Sorrows and meditate on it well, you will find all the strength you need to repent of your sins and convert your heart.” 

Our Lady of Kibeho begged of us daily conversion, eliminating all hatred and unforgiveness. She presented her Seven Sorrows as the repository of this grace, and she begged us to obtain not only for ourselves but for others.  

But on Aug. 15, 1982, Mary warned the 20,000 gathered of rivers of blood and mountains of beheaded corpses, for the people had not repented and still harbored hatred in their hearts. In the spring of 1994, over 1 million members of the Tutsi tribe were systematically and brutally hacked to death. The people did not soften their hearts, and Mary’s dark prophecy came true. 

One of the visionaries, Marie-Claire, who was specifically tasked with the propagation of the Seven Sorrows, was among those killed in the genocide. What has become of her mission to spread the devotion over the whole world? In an age becoming alarmingly more divided–and violent in its division–the message of Our Lady of Kibeho is more pressing than ever. 

Weapons are impotent. Words fall dull on deaf ears. The reign of peace will not come by power or might, but by searching the pregnant mystery of Mary’s incredible sorrow. In her sorrow, she is the “throne of grace” to whom we might come with boldness to find mercy in every need (Heb. 4:16). Let us “men of stones” draw near to her and draw forth from her the graces we need to soften our own hearts and for the softening of the hearts of our enemies; for unity and forgiveness in the Church, in our university, in our families, in the world.