"Woe is me that my sojourning is prolonged." (Ps. cxix. 5.)

1st Prelude. A statue or picture of Our Lady.

2nd Prelude. Grace to learn how an exiled child of Eve should live.

Tradition tells us that St John took the Holy Mother to his house in Jerusalem, and that it was there that she died, though she spent some of the time of her exile at Ephesus. In solitude and silence she pondered over all the wonderful mysteries of her life; she interceded for her new-born child, the Church, which had already so many needs; and she helped the Apostles by her prayers. They were soon scattered in different directions, "making disciples of all nations," as their Master had bidden them; and it would only be at rare intervals that they could come and see their Mother, and talk over their difficulties, and get the advice of her who saw eye to eye with her Son. But what a comfort and strength it must have been to them to know that she was always there, telling her Divine Son of their needs!

And during those long years—according to some opinions fifteen, to others, twenty-three—what was Mary's strength? The same as it had ever been—union with her Son. Every day, tradition tells us, she received Him in the Blessed Sacrament at the hands of St John. What Communions must those have been, when Mary said again: Ecce ancilla Domini, fiat mihi secundum verbum tuum, and her God was again incarnate within her! What made those Communions so intense? The fact that His love and desire in coming were reciprocated. The love and desire are never wanting on His side, but unfortunately there is so little of either on ours! It takes more than one to make a good Communion. A joining together of two is the meaning of the word. If the union is to be strong, fervent, real, lasting, each must do his part. Oh, teach me, dear Mother, how to receive thy Son in Holy Communion. Thy whole life was centred in Him; thy every thought was with Him; everything thou didst was done for Him; every moment of thy exile gladly borne for Him; every sigh a spiritual Communion; and when each day the glad moment of actual Communion came, it was just His embrace—He pressed thee to His Heart for a few minutes, telling thee it would not be long before thy exile would be over, and thou wouldst see His Face again. Thy Communions were an ecstasy of love—help me to put a little more love into mine; teach me to regard them as the Bread from Heaven sent specially for the exile; teach me to make them the centre of my life; teach me to live my whole life with Him, so that my Communion may never be interrupted. This should be the aim, surely, of every communicant; it is the ideal life; it is the life that Jesus intended when He said: "He that eateth Me, he shall live by Me." It is possible; but oh, how far I come short!

Why did her Son leave her behind to suffer so intensely, as He well knew she would, from the separation? Would not the Beatific Vision in Heaven have been better than her Communions on earth? Could not her intercession for the Church have been even more effectual had she been close to her Son's throne in Heaven? Could she not have been the Mother of Good Counsel in Heaven for those who had to guide the Church in its infancy, as she has been ever since?

We can think of many reasons why Jesus left her in exile for a time:—

1. She had to nurse the new-born Church by strengthening and encouraging the Apostles with her example, so like that of the Master Himself, and by supplying the Evangelists with many details of His life, which they could not have learnt from any lips but hers.

2. She had to establish her position as Mother of the Church—the tradition was to be handed down by the Apostles that it was she who guided, and tended, and cared for the Church during the early and tender years of its existence; that it was to her they turned in times of perplexity and doubt; that her constant intercession for them was their strength. This could not have been so had she left the earth with her Son. During those long years of exile the new child learnt to regard Mary as its Mother, and when she was taken away into Heaven, it was quite natural to it still thus to regard her, and to teach all who came after to do the same.

3. Our Lord would give her still more time to increase her merits by suffering. He wanted her crown to be the most beautiful possible, and even for the Mother of God there was only one way to make it so—the way of suffering, which intensified her love and humility and submission to God's will.

4. May not another reason have been in order that she might be the better able to sympathise with the exiled children of Eve (exules filii EvÆ)? Had He taken her with Him, they would surely have felt that their Mother could not quite understand their position. And what is such an effectual barrier to sympathy as the feeling that we are not understood?

So Mary was left in exile to gain much that she could not have gained otherwise.

I am one of the exiled children of Eve. What have I got to do as an exile?

1. I have to establish my position. There is a certain place prepared for me in Heaven, which may be mine through all eternity. What is to decide whether I get it or not? The way I "pass the time of my sojourning" here. By the time my exile is over, I must so have lived that there must be no doubt about it that I belong to the Heavenly land; that I am a child of God and an heir to His Kingdom; that I seek not the things of earth but those which are above; that Heaven is my Home. And what will be my position there? Mary earned her position as Queen of Angels, of Patriarchs, Prophets, Martyrs, Virgins, as Mother of the Church. What position shall I earn? That depends, as Mary's did, on my fidelity to grace. I shall have just that degree of glory and merit to which I have attained when I am called hence to give an account of my stewardship—no less and no more. The position I have to establish, then, during my exile, is that of being known by all the inhabitants of Heaven—all the Angels and Saints—as one who is sure to join them one day. "Make your calling and election sure."

2. I have to suffer. One of the actual reasons for my being here on earth is that I may suffer—not that suffering is in itself good, but it gives me the means—perhaps the greatest means—of developing the virtues which must be mine if I am to enter the Kingdom one day. Our Lord chose for Himself and for His Mother a life of suffering, to make us understand and to show us how suffering may aid us—yes, the very same suffering which hardens the sinner. What is the secret, then, of suffering? That by means of it, and because of it, we may make Acts of Love and Contrition and Submission to God's Will. Suffering is too powerful an instrument to leave our human nature untouched by it; we must do something under it—either curse God and die, as Job's wife advised him to do, or bless Him all the more fervently, as Job did. Let me remember, then, that one of the things I have to do as an exile is to see to it that God gets, out of each piece of suffering that He sends me, the extra love that He expected would result from it.

3. To do the work God wants me to do; to work in my little corner of His vineyard; to co-operate with Him in His great work of the salvation of souls; and to show sympathy and kindness to my fellow-exiles.

Colloquy. The Salve Regina:—"Hail, holy Queen, Mother of Mercy; hail, our life, our sweetness, and our hope! To thee do we cry, poor banished children of Eve; to thee do we send up our sighs, mourning, and weeping in this vale of tears. Turn then, most gracious Advocate, thine eyes of mercy towards us; and after this our exile, show unto us the blessed Fruit of thy womb, Jesus: O clement, O loving, O sweet Virgin Mary." (Anthem from Trinity to Advent.)

Resolution. To learn the exile's lessons.

Spiritual Bouquet. "For we have not here a lasting city, but we seek one that is to come." (Heb. xiii. 14.)