Watching Mother

When Jesus saw his mother standing there, and the disciple whom he loved, he said to her, “Dear woman, here is your son.” (John 19:26)

Has there ever been a mother who didn’t cry over her children? Tears flow for many reasons. Watching the child cry and feeling their pain over unplanned scrapes and bruises. Hard decisions to make. Bad decisions made. Not-the-best friends or love relationships chosen. Serious illness. Unexpected death.

What did the cross mean to the family of Jesus? His mom believed in him to the end, you betcha! She was there watching the whole thing. I’m trying to imagine her pain, her sorrow, her tears, her disappointment, her absolute shock and horror at seeing her son on the cross. The Scripture doesn’t say she was crying and wailing and pleading. But I can’t read the story about her being near the cross and not imagine that she was not emotionally overwhelmed with what she was witnessing. Mothers are of course protective, and witnessing this public execution of her first-born son was no doubt triggering every mother-protection-gene in her body.

We are not given access to her thoughts. I wonder if while she was struggling with the reality of his impending death she had any stray thoughts along the lines of, “Has Jesus done something he hasn’t told me? Otherwise, why would they be killing him like this? Have I been kept in the dark? Is the mother the last to know?” If she ever voiced such concern, no doubt one of the other women in her circle of friends would share the news with her that they had heard from one of the disciples that this was a complete farce. Hard to imagine, but total injustice was unfolding before their eyes. Words would fail them to try to describe just why this was happening. There was no reasonable explanation, especially one processed in the heat of the moment when the main concern is seeing her son rescued from this pain.

I can’t help but think, was she nostalgic? Remembering when he was a little guy, running all about his father’s wood shop, hammer in hand? “Look papa, I can hammer, too!” Or she voiced the understatement of all time, “He was the perfect child”?! She knew he was innocent of crucifixion-worthy crime; how could this be?

No mention of papa Joseph near the cross; he must have been long gone by now (dead and gone, I assume. But who knows.) She had other children, but here was the one who was different. I wonder if she had seen any of the pre-crucifixion torture, or just been told about it? Hopefully she was spared from that. But nonetheless the tears flowed freely and she was crying out of her gut and heart—watching her son, tortured in the most extreme way, for what?! What had he done? Could she get them to understand at all? Was there anyone who would listen as time expired, and help deliver him even as his inevitable death is drawing near? This was a mother’s worst nightmare.

“Father, thank you for the example of Jesus’ faithful mother who honored him and followed him to the end.”