And Mary said:
“My soul glorifies the Lord and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior, for he has been mindful of the humble state of his servant. From now on all generations will call me blessed, for the Mighty One has done great things for me— holy is his name. His mercy extends to those who fear him, from generation to generation. He has performed mighty deeds with his arm; he has scattered those who are proud in their inmost thoughts. He has brought down rulers from their thrones but has lifted up the humble. He has filled the hungry with good things but has sent the rich away empty. He has helped his servant Israel, remembering to be merciful to Abraham and his descendants forever." Luke 1:26-55
Near the cross of Jesus stood his mother, his mother’s sister, Mary the wife of Clopas, and Mary Magdalene. When Jesus saw his mother there, and the disciple whom he loved standing nearby, he said to her, “Woman, here is your son,” and to the disciple, “Here is your mother.” From that time on, this disciple took her into his home. John 19:25-27
I cannot imagine this moment for Mary. She who had been so full of hope and promise, so humble yet so rich in spirit, was now in the throes of despair. Did she understand? Could she maintain her hope, her promise, because she knew this moment would not last forever?
Was her soul still glorifying the Lord?
I imagine John ushering her into the upper room, where the other disciples are hiding. I see her staring at them, eying them with grief, and perhaps disgust. As the men try to approach her, to console her, to comfort her, she finally explodes: "Where were you? My son - my son!! - he needed you! You who said you would never leave him. You who proclaimed him as the Messiah not one week ago! You ABANDONED him. How could you? How could you?" I imagine her crumbling into a heap onto the floor.
And there is nothing that can be said to turn her mourning into joy. Because everything she said was true.
Was she a woman grieving because her son, this heaven-child who grew in God-man, had been tortured and killed? Was she grieving because a piece of her felt betrayed, even lied to? Was she grieving because everything she had believed had just been torn into bits?
We really don't know, do we? Not much attention is paid to Mary, and no attention is paid to her grief, her feelings, her thoughts.
Yet she is a vital piece of this story. Her mere presence shows her absolute courage in the face of death. Her presence at the foot of the cross, Jesus' concern for her as he approached death, shows the intimacy of their relationship. Surely Christ loved her. Surely she loved him.
Do you think that, when Mary stood before the angel Gabriel, when she submitted her will to God's will, when she hurried to her cousin's side and sang the beautiful song, above - do you think she had any idea what her submission would cost her? She might have had an inkling that Joseph would be upset, that her parents might not understand, that her community would ostracize her.
But did she know she would give birth in a cave? Did she know that she and Joseph would be surrounded by smelly animals and stinky shepherds? Did she know that Jesus would be tempted by the devil? That he would be plotted against, sold, beaten, tortured, and crucified?
I don't know. I only know that we don't have to have courage to face tomorrow. We only have to have enough courage to face today. Day by day. Every day.
None of us can know what tomorrow holds, what obstacles we will face or glory we will receive. We can only know that we serve the God who knows. And that he will conquer our foes, face down the enemy, trample the terror in our lives.
Before we end today, we - again - can only imagine what three days later looked like for Mary. We can only imagine how her eyes - puffy from crying for three days - how they widened when she saw a figure coming towards her that looked familiar. We can only imagine her joy, her hope.
We can only imagine the moment that her son became her savior.
Wow.
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