Where thy treasure is, there will thy heart be
also (St. Matt. vi. 21)
When Mary had finished the mournful task of
preparing the Sacred Body of her Son for burial,
the disciples carry Him to the sepulchre in the
garden of Joseph of Arimathea. All her hopes,
all her joys, all her affections were buried with
Jesus. He was her one and only treasure, and
where her treasure was laid, there was her heart
also.
Mary amid all her anguish had experienced a
strange and melancholy pleasure in embracing the
dead Body of her Son and performing for it the
last offices of love. She knew, too, that though the
human Soul was parted from it, the Divinity was
still there. She could adore with the highest worship that mangled form, those limbs livid and
cold. But now she was separated even from that
Sacred Body. How empty, how bland, was all
around without Jesus!
Yet Mary, in spite of her desolation, was never
dejected, never gloomy. She was full of joy and
peace. In the anguish of her separation from
Jesus, she was more than comforted by the knowledge that all His sufferings were past, and that
He had already begun to see the fruit of His
travail. Those who love God more than themselves have always a fount of consolation in every
sorrow.
By the hope thy name inspires,
By our doom, reversed through thee,
Bring us. Queen of angel choirs,
To a blest eternity!