There is a scene near the end of The Passion of the Christ where the Roman soldiers are lowering Jesus' body from the cross. They place him into the arms of Mary as she kneels speechless before them.
The scene ends with a haunting image of Mary cradling the corpse of her mutilated, crucified son in her lap. She has no tears left to cry. The awful events of the day have wrung her dry.
Numbed with grief, she stares off into space as her gown is soaked by the blood that is still seeping from the ghastly wounds in Jesus’ lifeless body.
How could this be?
What about the promises the Lord had made to her?
Imagine what she must have been thinking. Did her mind wander back to that long-ago day when the angel Gabriel appeared to her and announced that the Lord had chosen her to be the virgin mother of Israel’s long-awaited Messiah?
Did she look back in wonder to that moment when the Spirit of the Lord overshadowed her and planted the seed of that amazing miraculous life deep inside of her?
Imagine the anxiety she endured when her parents and Joseph thought the worst of her pregnancy, and how she must have clung to the promises of the Lord to sustain herself through those difficult times.
Perhaps her mind drifted back to the dread she felt when she finally had to confront her parents with the reality she could no longer conceal: “Father … mother … I am with child.”
Of course they immediately concluded that her story about the angel’s visitation was just the frightened delusion of a young girl who feared facing the consequences of her actions. Mary was stung by their disbelief … and their accusations against her dear Joseph!
Even though it wounded her that the reputation of her innocent Joseph should suffer, she still feared his reaction when she had to face him and tell him her incredible story.
Though he was too stunned to speak, she knew that he must have thought the worst. When he silently stumbled away, choking back angry tears, she feared she was losing the love of her life.
But the Lord took care of her! An angel appeared to Joseph in a dream, and confirmed that Mary had been faithful.
He also told Joseph to take her as his wife and raise the child, the Lord’s child, as his own. So now Joseph shared her secret – they had the unique honor of serving as the earthly parents to the Son of God!
As Mary grieved at the foot of the cross, did she recall the birth in Bethlehem; the star that appeared; the visits from the shepherds and the Magi who had been sent to her by the Lord?
Over the years, as she watched Jesus growing up, how she must have marveled at the miraculous events of her life. How she must have wondered just how her son, the Son of God, was going to fulfill his destiny to redeem Israel.
When Jesus finally began his public ministry, Mary's heart must have swollen with hope and anticipation.
She had witnessed the miracles. She knew he healed the sick, raised the dead, and made blind men see. She was amazed at the enthusiasm of the growing crowds who followed her son and talked about his power.
She had marveled at the impact of his preaching. She repeatedly heard Jesus announcing the arrival of the Kingdom of God with power and authority as he traveled throughout Israel.
Mary was no doubt expecting to see her son, her miraculous son, exalted and venerated as the King of the Jews, the anointed one, the long-awaited Messiah who would set Israel free from the tyranny of Roman rule.
But now she knelt at the foot of that ghastly cross; her soul crushed with agony; and cradled the limp, dead body of Jesus in her blood-stained arms.
She had spent the morning weeping, crying out to God, begging him to have mercy on Jesus. She had watched the Roman soldiers bind his wrists to the whipping post and beat him nearly to death. She had heard the angry mobs crying out to Pilate for his crucifixion!
She had followed him through the city as he made that torturous trip up to Calvary. She had watched helplessly, in horror, as Jesus was nailed to the cross. She was forced to endure the torment of hearing him mocked and reviled by the crowd of jeering, hateful spectators.
Under those circumstances, his death must have seemed a relief to Mary – the bitter consolation that at last his suffering was over.
Surely, in her heart of hearts, she had echoed Jesus' sentiments towards the father – "My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?"
How could the Lord – who had promised her so much and blessed her so richly – allow her Jesus to die such an awful, shameful death?
As she knelt there, hugging the battered body of her first-born son, she surely wondered how she could go on. Every hope and dream God had ever given her died within her that day.
As frail and human and blind as all the rest of us, there is no way, at that darkest moment of her life, that Mary could have imagined the glorious miracle of the resurrection that was just days away.
When calamity shatters our lives, we need to remember that we serve a God who plans all things for our ultimate good. We have a Father who creates beauty from ashes; who carries our burdens; and who draws close to the broken-hearted.
We can never imagine what incredible miracle God has waiting for us right around the next corner.
