MONDAY, MARCH 28TH, 2016
EASTER AFTER THOUGHTS
The cross as a symbol
What runs through your mind when you hear the word cross? It’s a symbol of hate and love; of forgiveness and hope; the temporal and eternal; death and life.
excerpts from my monologue Mary, the Mother of Jesus
Everything started on a high note then quickly turned sour. Judas, one of his trusted disciples, betrayed him and what followed was six trials taking pale in the wee hours after midnight on
Thursday and ending with his death on a Roman cross by 3:00 on Friday.
That sword Simeon and Anna talked about during his birth presentation was getting sharper and the depth of my sorrow was boundless. All I could utter was, “Why God? Why?”
From his cross Jesus called my name. Struggling for breath he said, “Mother, John is now your son.”
To think that my son in his final moments was looking out for me was more than I could take. Just when I’d cried so much I didn’t think I could cry anymore, I started crying again. I followed behind Joseph and Nicodemus as they laid Jesus in the tomb and then I went home to prepare burial spices.
On Sunday the other women and I returned to the tomb only to find it empty. A heavenly being spoke and asked us “Why are you looking for the living among the dead? Jesus isn’t here. He’s alive. Go tell his disciples!”
My heavy heart beat with joy and I ran with the speed of a young maiden. “John, Peter. Come with me. Jesus has arisen from the dead! Do you hear me, John? He’s alive! I tell you he’s alive.
Do you look upon your children as pawns or blessings? Mary always knew Jesus was on loan to her. With a broken heart she asked, “Why God, why?”
The pain of Good Friday is dwarfed by Resurrection Sunday.