Mary of Nazareth: They keep offering to take me away, my sister, the two Marys. They keep trying to take me home, to get me away from here, from watching him… But I don’t want to go. I must feel some need to finish this. He said a moment ago… “It is finished.” Or, that’s what they said he said. I couldn’t hear him. His voice was so faint…
But still I can’t leave. Not yet. It wasn’t like there was ever a time I was allowed to forget that there would be an end like this. I just didn’t ever know how or when it was going to be. I always knew that he was a gift with strings attached – From the beginning, what that angel, or whatever he was, said to me, “He will be great, and will be called the son of the Most High… his kingdom will never end.” And the whole way he… just suddenly… was there, in my belly… And his birth, those crazed shepherds running, finding us, telling us about choirs of angels on the hills…
I always knew he was no ordinary child; I always knew he was never mine to keep. But this – this was not a day I ever imagined, to see my own first son, flesh of my flesh, there…naked, pinned…. In agony. And yet I don’t want to leave.
A little while before he spoke again. Oh God, he barely had the strength to lift his voice. He was looking at me, he wanted me. And there was nothing I could do for him! They took me by the arm, Joanna and Mary, they led me closer. I could have touched him – I could have reached out and touched his feet, those feet that were once so small they fit into my hand, those toes I used to tickle, and he would laugh and laugh like an angel… But there they were, and a spike…
I could have touched him, but I was afraid. What was I afraid of? The soldiers? What on earth could they do to me now? But still, I didn’t try. He looked at John, his faithful friend. He looked at me. “Dear woman, behold your son,” he said. “No, you are my son!” I wanted to cry out. “Take him down!”
Then he said to John, “Here is your mother.” I thought my heart would stop – it hurt so much. To be given away, even for my own care… like the time he wouldn’t see us, his brothers and me. He said those who followed him, his disciples, those were his mothers and his brothers now. And I tried to understand… he was never mine to keep. But what was it all for? the crowds, the miracles, the healings? All those amazing stories that he told, about forgiveness and the Kingdom of Heaven? Where is all that now?
That’s what I want to know. Maybe that’s why I can’t look away – I’ve been waiting to see what he does now! God, where are you now? Your moment to intervene just passed, it seems. Are you going to finish what you started?
This is the question of Good Friday – are you there, God? Where is your power, your presence, your peace? Are your promises any good? And as much as we want the resolution, to see the story turn out the way we know it will – this is an important space in which to rest, these three days before the promise is revealed. Sit with your questions, and doubts, and faith, and love. Share them with Jesus. He knows…
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