Mary's Musings for Shabbat

What? Where am I? I feel drugged and in a stupor... Oh! Yes. Now I remember, as the events of yesterday come rushing back in upon me. Yesterday my son was crucified!
Today is Shabbat. The Sabbath after Passover.

Why didn't the death angel pass over my son? We ate the Passover together so many times, recounting the story of how the blood of the lamb on the door posts kept out the Angel of Death from entering the homes of our ancestors as they waited out that long night of visitation upon Pharaoh. Their release from captivity and slavery would be complete in the morning. Well, it's morning Lord. But my heart is still captive to the grief and pain I feel inside of me. Will it never end?

Good morning John, although I don't know what is good about it. I know our father David declared, "This is the day that the Lord has made. I will rejoice and be glad in it." Please help me find something to rejoice about Lord.

John! What was it my son spoke of about this particular passover? I want to remember everything he ever said... "Ima, He said to us, With desire I desired to eat this Passover with you before My suffering. " John, did you know what He was talking about? "Well, I supposed that He was going to have a confrontation of sorts with the Pharisees. How He hated the way they kept people from God, acting all holier than thou with folks."

Yes, he hated their pomposity. He always used to tell me that God wanted relationship with our hearts, not empty works that got us the praise of men. The things that boy would say! Unlike anything any Rabbi has said, that I have ever heard. I asked him once, "where do you come up with this stuff?" Do you know what he said? "I only say and do what I hear my Father say and do." Joseph taught you this I queried? "NO, Mother" he said kissing my cheek. "Our Father who art in Heaven taught me this."

His heart was always so tender towards God and very protective of the Books of God. He often whispered, "they are missing the whole point of that text" when the priest stood up to read! Later he would explain it to me in a way that was simple, profound and beautiful and it always made sense, although I'd never seen it that way, before he showed it to me.

Ahh John. When he was small I could kiss away his scrapes and bruises! As he grew, I watched him tenderly care for hurt creatures of the field that were around us. He would ask me to make them well. As if I had all power! He kept insisting, Imi touch the poor thing. It will get better! Don't you believe? There came a day, when he didn't bring the bird to me that had the broken wing, instead I watched from the window. I saw him hold it so gently and whisper something to it. Then my son did the most amazing thing. He took that wounded bird with broken wing and threw it up into the sky! Doesn't he know it can't fly? I thought. It will surely fall to the ground and die! But it flew away perfectly whole! Later when I casually asked him abut the bird he had found he said to me; "Are not five sparrows sold for two pennies? And [yet] not one of them is forgotten or uncared for in the presence of God."

Oh John! He brought such light and life wherever He went! And now they've snuffed out His life. And yet, I remember as if it were yesterday, what the Angel said to me, when He spoke with me : "He will be a great man and will be called the Son of the Most High. The Lord God will give him the throne of his ancestor David. Your son will be king of Jacob's people forever, and his kingdom will never end." I don't know how that will be possible now. But I didn't know how it would be possible for me to conceive a child then when I was yet in my virginity, yet somehow God did it and Jesus was born- not of Joseph or any other man, for I had not lain with anyone, except to lay before our God in worship and adoration.

As soon as Shabbat is over, please take me to the tomb. I want to make sure all is as it should be for my son. I don't understand why this has happened. But I want to honor him and God the best I know how, even in this his death. How I HATE that word. Death. So final. So cold. Such an enemy to all that He brought into this world. He raised Lazarus from the dead... but Lazarus hadn't been crucified ... John, do you think that somehow, someway....? No, I can't even let my mind go there and think like that. And yet...

Where are his boys now? The rest of the gang? Peter? James? Nathaniel? Do you think it is safe for you to go out? Can you go bring them so we can all be together? You boys spent the last 3 1/2 years with him. Being with you, is as close as I can get now to being with him. Please bring me comfort in my days of mourning. Go then and gather them up and bring them here. Will you? Yes, I'll be fine John. Yes, I'll keep the door locked. Thank you son that my son gave to me... please be careful! Go now and hurry back to me. I don't want to be alone too long! Yes, there's a good boy. God be with you. God be with us all...