Mary at the cross
We know the end of the Easter story. Yet, we cannot brush past the horrific events of the day Jesus died. Thinking about it closely brings up raw, uncomfortable feelings, yet think about it we must because it is essential to our faith. As Christians we need to understand. So this Good Friday I think of those who were present at the cross, watching his death. I think especially of Mary, His mother. Having been present at my own adult son’s death, I have an inkling of how it would have felt for Mary. Maybe amongst her sorrow she saw the waste of a good man’s life - all that potential in her wonderful son who had been so popular. And so unique, special, God’s son. No more healing of the sick, preaching God’s truths, challenging hypocrisy in His own loving, wise way. Here is how Ren Smith describes it in the last verse of her poem ‘Mary at the Cross’* Even as I am writing this and thinking of Mary’s horror, fear and grief, my mind is trying to race forward to the end of the story of E...