Were You There?
The events of September 11 are etched indelibly into our hearts and minds. We remember the horror and disbelief with which we watched the destruction of the twin towers, the clouds of black smoke billowing above Manhattan as a wave of people sought safety.
Imagine, then, if we could travel back in time to the crucifixion of Christ and be a spectator to those events. I think of the battered body of Christ, shrunken and drained by the pain of His final hours. His hair is matted with blood from the puncture wounds of the crown of thorns so roughly forced upon His head. Every rib stands out in His gaunt frame, and gaping ragged holes tear his wrists and feet. The side wound, where the spear was thrust, is sharper and cleaner. Perhaps it was in the tomb that they lay this broken body on His mother’s lap so that she could mourn quietly and privately for just a little while before they wrapped Him in the burial cloths. Did she think of the first time she held Him, when all soft and sweet in swaddling clothes, He began His journey to do His Father’s will? Her heart almost bursting with sadness, did she also remember how she feared they would lose Him because of Herod’s edict to kill all males under the age of two? The trip to Egypt to escape this massacre must have been a lonely one. With no time to lose, they could not wait for a caravan that would afford them some protection against wild beasts and thieves along the way. They could take little with them, and only had time for a hasty farewell to their loving families. With the memory of the fear of that time, of the sorrow of having to leave loving parents when she was so young, also came the memory of the love and gentleness of Joseph. Of how he would stand with his arm around her shoulders as they both lovingly gazed down upon this perfect infant. How His love and confidence in them shone from His eyes and played upon His lips.
As she gazes upon this wounded corpse, in her mind’s eye, did she see Him running and playing with other children on the hills of Nazareth? Did she remember His chatter as He helped her set the table? Perhaps as she worked about the house, she could hear Joseph’s gentle guidance as he taught Jesus to love and caress the wood with which they worked, instilling in his son a pride of workmanship. Did Mary hear Jesus telling Joseph about what He had learned in the Temple that morning? Perhaps Jesus would be recounting a funny story about something He had done with His friends. There was a joy and a peace in her heart, though from time to time a shiver would run up her spine for no particular reason, and she would feel a strange sense of foreboding. Being young and having a deep faith, she would shake off the feeling and resume her humming. There was that time when He was left behind in Jerusalem. He was twelve and it was the year of His entering manhood. Until then He had always stayed with the women and other children on the trips to Jerusalem. . This year He could travel with the men, so when they started out neither Joseph nor Mary were concerned about His whereabouts – each thought He had chosen to travel with the other group. It was not until they stopped for the night and gathered for a communal meal that they realized that their son was not with them. The stab of fear that scathed Mary’s heart left her breathless and shaken. Unable to sleep, they braved the dangers of the return to Jerusalem to travel during the night. When they arrived there in the morning, they rushed down the busy, crowded streets and alleyways in search of Jesus, frantically calling His name and praying for His safety. Approaching the Temple area did they overhear people marveling at a young man within the Temple who was actually sharing knowledge with the high priests! Could it be Him? How out of place these tired, dusty travelers felt in the magnificent Temple! But, how relieved they were to find Him alive and unharmed. When they asked Him about His staying behind, they were a bit taken aback by His answer that He just be about His Father’s business. Overcome with joy and relief and eager to start for home, they could only ponder this as they began their return journey.
Everything seemed to return to normal in their home, with no further episodes like that. I wonder whether He prepared her for His ministry. What was it like that dawn, when they finished their prayers and sat for a moment watching the sun rise that Jesus told her that He must leave and spread the word of God? Had she almost lulled herself into thinking that He would be with her longer? There was a beauty to His features as He told her of His excitement in at last beginning what He had been born to do. As any mother would, she stood in the doorway until His figure was out of sight. Perhaps the unbidden tears gently rolled down her cheeks as she realized that her life would never be the same again.
Was she there at the Passover meal that Christians call the Last Supper? Did she and her women friends prepare and serve the meal to Jesus and His friends? Were they cleaning up and putting the upper room back in order when they heard a commotion as Jesus was led to inquisition? It is said that the disciples scattered when Jesus was arrested. Did one of them hurry to Mary to tell her what had happened? She had been a mother to all of them, and in their fright and confusion they may have turned to her, even though she was the one who needed the comforting at that time. She was in the crowd that waited below the balcony where Pilate displayed Jesus – bloody and weak, with head bowed. Her heart must have exploded within her when she heard the cries of the crowd – “Crucify Him, Crucify Him” – and saw Pilate wash his hands and turn away. Horrified, she hurried to find a spot along His way to Golgotha so that she might show Him that she had not abandoned Him but was praying for Him. When He fell, she must have ached to pick Him up, wipe the blood and sweat from His brow and cradle Him in her arms. But the soldiers closely guarded Him, lashing Him and calling Him to get up. Finally, they turned to a burly Cyrenian and ordered him to help carry the cross so that Jesus would not die on the way and avoid His crucifixion. The three hours that she stood below the cross, praying though drained of tears, were ones of agony for her. The fierce winds, thunder and lightning that turned the day into night, could not touch her. Her soul was battered as he heard her Son cry out for water and then cry out “My God, My God, why have You forsaken Me?” The gentle urging of His followers interrupts her memories. His disciples, Joseph and Nicodemus gently take Him from her, she smooths the shroud upon the stone and when they place Him there, she covers him with the shroud.
Even in her grief, she turned to comfort His friends. They needed someone to hold them together and to encourage them to have faith. They needed to regroup. So, they retreated to an upper room where they met daily, spending hours talking about His life and teachings and what it all meant. They questioned how His teachings would apply now that He was dead. They remembered their travels with Him and how he touched whomever He met with His wisdom and love, often healing them as well. They were together at daybreak to begin another day of prayer, singing, and sharing when Mary Magdalen pounded on the door, crying out that she had gone to the tomb and it was empty! He as not there, but she had seen Him in the garden. With His resurrection, He has triumphed over death. Each year we celebrate this awesome event, when Jesus triumphed over death and gave us new hope in eternal life! We are spiritually renewed! He came to give us Life and give it abundantly. He came to show us that death has no power over us and that life is everlasting. He showed us that while there are trials and tribulations along the way, His Way leads to eternal life. May you have a blessed and joyful Easter!