Chapter VII — Turn Then, Your Eyes of Mercy Toward Us

Mary Is All Eyes to Compassionate and Help Us in Our Miseries

St. Epiphanius calls the divine Mother "she who is all eyes," in order to help us wretches here on earth. One day, while an exorcism was being performed on a possessed man, the exorcist asked the devil what Mary was doing. The enemy answered: "She goes down and goes up." He meant that this kind Lady does nothing but come down to earth to bring graces to men and go up to heaven to obtain the divine favor for our prayers. With good reason, then, St. Andrew Avellino used to call the Blessed Virgin "the Busybody of Paradise," since she is continually busy with works of mercy, obtaining graces for all — for the just and for sinners. The Lord has his eyes upon the just, says David: Oculi Domini super iustos (Ps. XXXIII, 16). But the eyes of our Lady, says Richard of St. Lawrence, are turned upon both the just and sinners: Sed oculi Dominae super iustos et peccatores. For, adds Richard, the eyes of Mary are the eyes of a mother, and a mother not only watches her child to prevent him from falling, but also, if he has fallen, goes to lift him up: Sicut oculi matris ad puerum ne cadat, vel si ceciderit, ut eum sublevet.

Jesus himself gave St. Bridget to understand this well, when one day the saint heard him speak to his Mother and say: Mater, pete quid vis a me: Ask me, Mother, whatever you desire. This is what the Son is always saying to Mary in heaven, delighting to please this beloved Mother of his in all she asks. But what did Mary ask of him? St. Bridget heard the Mother reply: Misericordiam peto pro miseris (Revelations, Bk. 1, ch. 46). As if she said: My Son, you have already appointed me the mother of mercy, the refuge of sinners, the advocate of the wretched. Now you tell me to ask you whatever I will; what can I ever ask of you? I ask you to have pity on the miserable: Misericordiam peto pro miseris. So, O Mary, St. Bonaventure says to her with tenderness, you are so full of mercy, so attentive to helping the wretched, that it seems you have no other desire, no other concern, than this: Undique sollicita es de miseris, misericordia vallaris, solum misereri videris appetere. And because among the wretched, sinners are the most wretched of all, the Venerable Bede asserts that Mary continually prays to her Son for sinners: Stat Maria in conspectu Filii sui, non cessans pro peccatoribus exorare.

Even while living on this earth, says St. Jerome, Mary was of a heart so compassionate and tender toward men that no person was ever so afflicted by sufferings of their own as Mary was by the sufferings of others: Nullum in hac vita adeo poenae torserunt propriae, sicut Mariam alienae. She well showed this compassion she felt for the afflictions of others at the wedding of Cana — recalled once before in earlier chapters — where, the wine failing, without being at all asked, as St. Bernardine of Siena wrote, she took upon herself the office of compassionate consoler: Officium piae auxiliatricis assumpsit non rogata. And out of sheer compassion for the distress of those newlyweds, she interceded with her Son and obtained the miracle of the changing of water into wine.

But what — St. Peter Damian here addresses Mary — because you have been raised to be Queen of Heaven, have you forgotten us wretches? Numquid, o B. Virgo, quia ita glorificata es, ideo nostrae humilitatis oblita es? Absit, he adds, non convenit tantae misericordiae tantae miseriae oblivisci. God forbid that this should be thought! It does not befit a mercy so great as that reigning in Mary's heart to forget a misery so great as ours. The common proverb does not apply to Mary: Honores mutant mores. This indeed applies to worldly people who, raised to some dignity, grow proud and forget their old friends who are poor; but not to Mary, who rejoices in being made greater precisely so that she may better help the wretched. Considering this very thing, St. Bonaventure applies to the Blessed Virgin the words spoken to Ruth: Benedicta filia, priorem misericordiam posteriore superasti (Ruth III). Meaning, as he then explains, that if great was the pity of Mary toward the wretched while she lived in this world, much greater it is at present, when she reigns in heaven: Magna fuit erga miseros misericordia Mariae adhuc exsulantis in mundo, sed multo maior est regnantis in caelo. The saint gives the reason for this, saying that the divine Mother now demonstrates this greater mercy through the innumerable graces she obtains for us, because she now better sees our miseries: Maiorem per innumerabilia beneficia nunc ostendit misericordiam, quia nunc magis videt hominum miserias. Hence he adds that just as the splendor of the sun surpasses that of the moon, so the compassion of Mary now in heaven surpasses the compassion she had for us while on earth: Nam quemadmodum sol lunam superat magnitudine splendoris, sic priorem Mariae misericordiam superat magnitudo posterioris. And who lives in the world who does not enjoy the light of the sun? Who is there upon whom this mercy of Mary does not shine? Quis est super quem misericordia Mariae non resplendeat?

Therefore she was called electa ut sol (Cant. VI, 9) — chosen as the sun — for there is no one who is excluded from the warmth of this sun, says St. Bonaventure: Non est qui se abscondat a calore eius. And this is precisely what St. Agnes revealed from heaven to St. Bridget (Revelations, Bk. 3, ch. 30), when she told her that our Queen, now united with her Son in heaven, cannot forget her innate goodness, and therefore extends her mercy to all, even to the most wicked sinners; so that just as both heavenly and earthly bodies are illuminated by the sun, so through Mary's sweetness there is no one in the world who — if he asks — does not share through her in the divine mercy: Nunc autem coniuncta Filio non obliviscitur innatae bonitatis suae, sed ad omnes extendit misericordiam suam, etiam ad pessimos: ut sicut sole illuminantur caelestia et terrestria, sic ex dulcedine Mariae nullus est qui non per eam, si petitur, sentiat pietatem.

A great sinner in the kingdom of Valencia, in despair and to escape the hand of justice, had resolved to become a Turk and was already on his way to embark. By chance he passed before a church where Father Jerome Lopez of the Society of Jesus was preaching on the divine mercy. At that sermon he was converted and confessed to the same Father, who asked him if he had practiced any devotion through which God had shown him such great mercy. He answered that the only devotion he had was to pray every day to the Blessed Virgin not to abandon him. The same Father found in the hospital a sinner who had not confessed in fifty-five years, and whose only poor devotion had been that whenever he saw an image of Mary he would greet her and ask her not to let him die in mortal sin. Moreover, he related that in a brawl with an enemy his sword broke; he then turned to Our Lady and said: "Alas, now I am slain and damned! Mother of sinners, help me!" And in saying this he found himself — without knowing how — transported to a safe place. Having then made a general confession, he died full of confidence.

St. Bernard wrote that Mary has made herself all things to all, and opens to all the bosom of her mercy, so that all may receive from it: the captive, ransom; the sick, health; the afflicted, comfort; the sinner, pardon; God, glory. And thus, since she is like the sun, there is no one who does not share in her warmth: Maria omnia omnibus facta est, omnibus misericordiae sinum aperit, ut de plenitudine eius accipiant omnes, captivus redemptionem, aeger curationem, tristis consolationem, peccator veniam; ut non sit qui se abscondat a calore eius.

And who in the world, exclaims St. Bonaventure, will not love this most lovable Queen? She is more beautiful than the sun, sweeter than honey; she is a treasure of goodness — lovable to all, gracious to all: Quis te non diliget, o Maria, pulchriorem sole, dulciorem melle, omnibus amabilis, omnibus affabilis? I greet you, then — so the enamored saint continues to say to her — O my Lady and Mother; indeed, my heart, my soul. Forgive me, O Mary, if I say that I love you; if I am not worthy to love you, you are well worthy to be loved by me: Ave ergo, domina mea, mater mea, imo cor meum, anima mea. Parce mihi, domina, si me amare te dicam; si ego non sum dignus te amare, tu non es indigna amari a me.

It was revealed to St. Gertrude (Revelations, Bk. 4, ch. 53) that when these words are said to the Blessed Virgin with devotion — Eia ergo, advocata nostra, illos tuos misericordes oculos ad nos converte — Mary cannot help but incline herself to the request of whoever prays to her thus. Ah, the greatness of your mercy, O great Lady — St. Bernard says to her — fills the whole earth: Latitudo misericordiae tuae replet orbem terrarum. Hence St. Bonaventure says that this loving Mother has so great a desire to do good to all that she considers herself offended not only by those who do her some positive injury — as are found certain perverse souls, especially gamblers, who sometimes in their frenzy blaspheme or insult this good Lady — but she considers herself offended also by those who do not ask her for some grace: In te, Domina, peccant, non solum qui tibi iniuriam irrogant, sed etiam qui te non rogant. So that, says St. Hildebert, you teach us, O Lady, to hope for graces greater than our merits, since you never cease to dispense to us graces that far exceed what we deserve: Doces nos sperare maiora meritis, quae meritis maiora largiri non desinis.

The prophet Isaiah foretold that through the great work of human Redemption, a throne of divine mercy was to be prepared for us wretches: Praeparabitur in misericordia solium eius (Is. XVI). Who is this throne? St. Bonaventure answers: Solium divinae misericordiae est Maria in qua omnes inveniunt solatia misericordiae. This throne is Mary, in whom all — both the just and sinners — find the comforts of mercy. And he adds: Nam sicut misericordiosissimum Dominum, ita misericordiosissimam Dominam habemus. Dominus noster multae misericordiae invocantibus se: et Domina nostra multae misericordiae invocantibus se: Just as the Lord is full of mercy, so too is our Lady; and as the Son, so also the Mother cannot deny their mercy to those who invoke it. Hence Abbot Guerric has Jesus say to his Mother: In te mihi regni sedem constituam, per te preces exaudiam. Communicasti mihi quod homo sum, communicabo tibi quod Deus sum: My Mother, in you I will establish the seat of my kingdom, and through you I will grant the graces asked of me. You gave me the nature of man; I will give you the nature of God — that is, the omnipotence by which you can help to save whomever you will.

One day, while St. Gertrude was devoutly saying those words to the divine Mother — Illos tuos misericordes oculos ad nos converte — she saw the Blessed Virgin point to the eyes of the Son she held in her arms and then say to her: Hi sunt misericordiosissimi oculi mei, quos ad omnes me invocantes possum salubriter inclinare: These are my most merciful eyes, which I can incline for the salvation of all who invoke me. Once a sinner was weeping before an image of Mary, praying that she would obtain his pardon from God. He heard the Blessed Virgin turn to the Child she held in her arms and say: Fili, et istae lacrimae peribunt? — My Son, shall these tears be lost? And he understood that Jesus Christ had already pardoned him.

And how could anyone perish who commends himself to this good Mother, when her Son, as God, has promised out of love for her to show mercy — as much as it pleases her — to all who commend themselves to her? This is precisely what the Lord revealed to St. Bridget (Bk. 4, ch. 53), letting her hear these words addressed to Mary: Ex omnipotentia mea, Mater reverenda, tibi concessi propitiationem omnium peccatorum, qui devote invocant tuae pietatis auxilium, qualicumque modo placeat tibi. Hence Abbot Adam of Perseigne, considering both the great power Mary has with God and the great compassion she has toward us, says to her, full of confidence: O Mother of Mercy, your compassion is as great as your power; you are as merciful to pardon as you are powerful to obtain: Mater misericordiae, tanta est pietas tua, quanta potestas. Tam pia es ad parcendum, quam potens ad impetrandum. And when, he adds, is there ever a case in which you do not have compassion on the wretched, being the Mother of Mercy? Or when is it that you cannot help them, being the Mother of Omnipotence? Ah, with the same ease with which you perceive our miseries, with that same ease you obtain whatever you will: Quando non compatieris miseris, Mater misericordiae? aut quando illis opem conferre non poteris, cum sis Mater omnipotentiae? Eadem facilitate obtinens quodcumque vis, qua facilitate nostra innotescit miseria. Feast, then, says Abbot Guerric, feast, O great Queen, upon the glory of your Son, and out of compassion — not for any merit of ours — be content to send down to us poor servants and children the remnants that are left: O Mater misericordiae, saturare gloria Filii tui, et dimitte reliquias tuas parvulis tuis.

And if our sins make us lose confidence, let us say to her with William of Paris: Ne allegaveris peccata mea contra me, qui misericordiam tuam allego contra ea. Absit ut stent in iudicio peccata mea contra misericordiam tuam, quae omnibus vitiis fortior est: My Lady, do not bring my sins against me, for I bring your mercy against them. And let it never be said that my sins can contend in judgment against your mercy, which is far more powerful to obtain my pardon than my sins are to obtain my condemnation.

Example

In the Chronicles of the Capuchin Fathers (ch. 11, part 1) it is related that in Venice there was a famous lawyer who by fraud and wicked arts had made himself rich, and so lived in an evil state. Perhaps the only good thing about him was that he recited a certain prayer to the Blessed Virgin every day. And yet this poor devotion availed him, through the mercy of Mary, to escape eternal death. Here is how.

By good fortune, this lawyer became friends with Father Matthew of Basso, and he so urgently begged the Father to come one day to dine at his house that finally the Father agreed. Upon arriving, the lawyer said to him: "Now, Father, I want to show you something you have never seen before. I have a remarkable monkey that serves me like a valet: it washes the glasses, sets the table, opens the door for me." "See to it," replied the Father, "that this is not a monkey but something more than a monkey. Have it brought here." They call the monkey, call again, search everywhere, and the monkey does not appear. Finally they find it hidden under a bed on the ground floor of the house; but the monkey would not come out. "Well then," the religious said, "let us go find it." Going together with the lawyer to where it was, he said: "Infernal beast, come out! In the name of God I command you to reveal who you are." And behold, the monkey answered that it was the devil, and that it was waiting for that sinner to fail to say on some day that usual prayer to the Mother of God, for the first time he omitted it, the devil had permission from God to strangle him and carry him to hell. At this news the poor lawyer threw himself on his knees, begging the servant of God for help. The Father gave him courage and commanded the devil to leave that house without doing harm. "I only give you leave," he said, "that as a sign of your departure you break through a wall of this house." No sooner said than, with a great crash, an opening was seen in the wall. Although it was closed many times with mortar and stones, God willed that it remain visible for a long time, until by the advice of the servant of God a marble slab with the image of an angel was placed there. The lawyer was converted, and we may hope that from then on he persevered in his change of life until death.

Prayer

O most great and most sublime of all creatures, most holy Virgin, I greet you from this earth — I, a wretched, unhappy rebel against my God, who deserves punishments, not graces; justice, not mercy. My Lady, I do not say this because I doubt your compassion. I know that you glory in being more generous the greater you are. I know that you delight in being so rich so as to share your riches with us wretches. I know that the poorer those who have recourse to you, the more you devote yourself to protecting and saving them.

O my Mother, you are the one who once wept over your Son who died for me. Offer, I beg you, your tears to God, and through them obtain for me a true sorrow for my sins. Sinners afflicted you so greatly then, and I too afflicted you with my wickedness. Obtain for me, O Mary, that at least from this day forward I may cease to afflict you and your Son with my ingratitude. For of what use would your tears be to me if I continued to be ungrateful to you? Of what use your mercy, if I were once more unfaithful and brought damnation upon myself? No, my Queen, do not permit it. You have made up for all my failings. You obtain from God whatever you will. You hear everyone who prays to you. These two graces I ask of you, and from you I surely hope for them and desire them: obtain for me to be faithful to God by never offending him again, and to love him for the rest of my life as much as I have offended him.