THE CRUCIFIXION
Through The Eyes Of Mary
Holy week commenced with Jesus’ grand entry into Jerusalem where he was welcomed with such enthusiasm by a large crowd, who lay palm branches on the ground before him and he was received like a king with the people shouting, “Praise to David’s Son! God bless him who comes in the name of the Lord! Praise God!” (Matt. 21:9). By week’s end that crowd was no longer there for Jesus; only a few women, together with Mary and John, were gathered under the cross.
Our Year six classes with their teachers, Mrs Baulderstone and Mr Skinner, under the leadership of Mrs Liebich performed the play “That We Might Live” as they took us on the journey Jesus took over two thousand years ago. Watching this wonderful play is just another way that we can reconnect with the story that is the reason we call ourselves Christians, the death and resurrection of our Lord.
Sometimes the stories of the first Easter can seem so familiar that they lose their impact. I wonder how the women or the apostles who followed Jesus to Calvary must have felt or Mary as she stood at the foot of the cross after following her son from his arrest, mistreatment and trials and then the long journey to Calvary where he was crucified. As a mother of four sons I know how I would feel if one of my sons were taken away as Jesus was. A few years ago, I read a short reflection written by Valerie De Brenni that really touched me as a mother that I would like to share with you.
THE CRUCIFIXION
Through the eyes of Mary
I hate the sound of nails being hammered into wood. It brings back to me the horror of that day....... I remember how the sun beat down without mercy as he carried uphill the heavy beam. Swept along by the milling crowd my eyes glimpsed, now and then, his agony. Angry voices mocked, jeered in contempt, as he silently struggled. Finally, as he reached the place, uncaring hands ripped away his garment, holding it aloft for all to see. The crowd, suddenly silent, waited...... The sound of hammering rang, nails piercing flesh.
I wondered, how did it come to this? Images flashed through my mind - the warm, new-born baby laid by my side, a wide-eyed child full of fun, the gangling youth learning to be a man. I remembered how I felt when he had left, accompanied by those who found his presence irresistible. So many lives had been touched, so many healed. Why did he always confront and challenge those who had so much power? There was so much about him that had always puzzled and confused me....
At last it was finished; his agony was over, his body taken clumsily to the ground.
That night part of me died with him. Never in my wildest dreams did I dare to believe that this could be anything but the end. Only time showed me that this death would become resurrection - new life from old, light from darkness. Only time would heal the trauma of that day. I understand now it’s meaning...... but, I still hate the sound of nails being hammered into wood.
Jesus died on the cross because He loves us and it is through his suffering that gives witness to God’s special love for those who suffer. Finding God’s life in the midst of suffering leads to generous sacrifices that are a source of life for those we love.
Jesus, help us to always remember that your commitment to your mission led to your death. Help us to understand that true life is always achieved through love. Help us to have love at the core of all we think and do. And help us to share your love, especially with those who need it the most, those who are poor and marginalised. Amen
May this Easter be a time of love and joy we can share with others.
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