THE THIRD WORD
“Woman, behold your son! …Son, behold your mother.”
Grace to you and peace from God our Father, and our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ, amen.
My Dear friends in Christ,
What wondrous love is this that a mother should watch her son die. Mary perhaps always knew it was coming. From the very word of Simeon, the song of Simeon, Mary must’ve heard that this would happen: that a sword would piece her heart as well. Surely, the sword of the centurion pierced her heart as it pierced her son, her baby boy, the son of Mary.
Can you imagine Mary that day? Can you imagine a mother staring up at her son, naked for all the world to see, as naked upon the cross as the day she pushed Him out into the world from her womb? Can you imagine the smell of blood coming from that cross, the same smell of blood she sensed when she kissed His little skinned knees? Can you imagine hearing the cry of thirst from her Jesus, the same cry He had when He would scream from the milk from her breast? Can you imagine the pain she watched, the agony that came from the same place when Jesus mourned the death of his adoptive father?
Can you imagine this day, this woman, as she watches her little baby boy killed, murdered, tortured upon the cross? And can you imagine, as Mary treasured all these things up in her heart, that she knew her little baby boy was doing this for her? Do you think she thought of you that day? I do. I think she thought of all those who would come into the Kingdom of her son, the Kingdom of God, the Kingdom of Jesus.
And she prayed. She knew what to pray for. I think she knew her son’s teachings, that He prayed for you, and that He would go to the cross for you.
And I think that as Mary gazed up at the disgusting, gruesome, disfigured visage of her son, that she thought of those words of Simeon, the same words we sing in the Nunc Dimmittis after the Lord’s Supper, for her grief was so much to bear. We sing the Nunc Dimmittis with joy: “Lord, I have received Your Supper, Your strength, Your forgiveness. I am ready, Lord, for my death. It will be a good death, for it is in you. You are mine, and I am yours.”
Yet Mary, watching her son, groaned in agony, echoing even His groans of agony, prayed. A mother’s grief watching her children suffer is one thing. But to watch her son become Sin itself for the sake of the world, even this must have been almost too much to bear. You can hear her heart breaking in the words of Simeon. You can hear the despair she felt in her soul. You can imagine her crying, sobbing, gasping for air, “Lord, now let your servant depart in peace, according to your word; for my eyes have seen your salvation that you have prepared in the presence of all peoples, a light for revelation to the Gentiles, and for glory to your people Israel.”
For her, it’s not a prayer of hope and joy this day, but a prayer to be released from the pain of watching her firstborn son die. Truly, she knew that Jesus was the Servant of God, and not just a servant but a Son, The Son. Truly she trusted in the Lord’s word, even this day, just as she trusted the Word of God delivered to her by the angel. Yet, even when faced with such despair, it’s easy to understand when all hope seems lost. There is no coming back from the cross.
She had seen it before. The cross was nothing new for the Romans. They knew the torture well. All she could do was think back on the suffering she had seen for the last 40 years as she watching by the torture-hill the Romans used for such things. The agony and coming death would last days. She had seen it and was used to it, and while never loving it, understood it. Yet, now her soul was cut to the quick, for she knew this was what her Jesus would suffer. Yet, all she could do now for Him was to pray for a quick death, for Him and for herself.
Yet, look at the love of her little boy towards her. To watch His mother suffer so, must surely have been near the greatest part of His agony upon the cross. As He watched her, her pain only added to His own despair. And even then in His own despair, even in His own suffering, even in His own shame, He loved her. He loved her. She is His mother. She is the one who fed Him when He was hungry, who tended His wounds, who kissed His knees, who taught Him how to be a man, who watched Him grow. She is the chosen woman, a blessed woman, chosen to bear the Son of God into the world. And He loved her for that. He loved her dearly.
And His love, even in His distress comes out. Lifting His weak, broken body off the cross, just a little, you can hear Him croak out the words: “Woman, behold your son…” And just a little nod toward the disciple whom Jesus loved, John. And there He fell back on the cross, the pain of lifting His bones through the nails overcoming Him. Yet, moving again, bone scraping against metal against wood, flayed flesh digging into splinters, He lifts Himself and speaks, “…John, behold your mother.”
Even in His agony, out of His love for His mother, Jesus places her care into the disciple’s hands. She would be tended. She would be loved. She would be taken care of. Did Jesus know He would be resurrected from the dead? Certainly. Yet, He knew that His place was to be at His Father’s right hand. And so He passed the care that He was supposed to show to His aging mother to one who would fulfill the Lord’s wishes.
What child is this is laid to rest on Mary’s lap is sleeping? The Christmas hymn is for us a Lenten hymn, a Holy Week hymn. For Mary knew that her son, come down from the cross, would be given to her. And she would cradle His dead flesh. She would stroke His hair. She would kiss His cheek. She would weep for her son, with despair that only a mother could muster.
But the end, my friends, is not written at the foot of the cross that day, but at the rut of the stone rolled from the tomb. For Mary’s dead son would sleep in death for naught but three days, and that Easter Sunday be resurrected. There, Mary would yet again find hope. She would find peace. She would find joy. And she would find John, the beloved disciple, who would take her into his home for the rest of her life.
This is the love of Jesus for you. His love for His mother is His love also for you. Though your sin and shame sent Him to the cross, He willingly laid down His life for you, for He cares for you, as He cares for Mary. He loves you, He loves His mother. You are Mary, watching this Jesus die. And though her soul was pierced that day of the cross, in the resurrection of her son, Mary found hope that she would be reunited with Him forever, as will you. Mary found joy, that she would kiss His cheek forever, as will you. Mary found peace, that she would cling to Him forever, as will you. For the bleeding, dying, agonizing Jesus would be made whole as the firstfruits of the dead, the firstborn from the grave, never to die again. And so will you. In Jesus’ name, amen.
Now may the peace, which passes all human understanding, guard your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus, our Lord. Amen.
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