How
could this happen? A man who was so full
of love and compassion for everyone he came in contact with. Not only is he dead but he was put to death
in the most horrible way by the very people he ministered to these past three
years. Where are the people who welcomed
him into Jerusalem with loud Hosannas just a few days ago? Were some of them part of the crowd yelling “Crucify
him, crucify him”?
Now
he is dead and it is time to take his broken and torn body down from the
cross. The Roman soldiers help because
they want to get back to the barracks and they want to save the nails, if
possible. We use a long cloth placed
under his arms and across his chest to lower him to waiting and loving
arms. How could this man who performed
such powerful miracles weigh so little now?
How could this face that was so contorted just a little while ago, be so
peaceful in death? We wrap him in a
white cloth and carry him to a nearby garden tomb provided by the good
Joseph. As we lay him on the rock shelf
we all want to touch his body. We spend
some time washing the blood and filth away which only reveals more completely
the devastation perpetrated on his body.
It is so hard to look at! How could
people hate someone so fiercely? I weep
some more. I realize that I am weeping
both for this man I love and have followed – and I am weeping for myself, now
completely lost and disillusioned. What
will become of me now that all my dreams are gone for good? Will the blood lust we saw today continue and
cause us to be dragged into the pit with those wild dogs? Yes, I am afraid. Should I flee Jerusalem this very evening
even on the Sabbath which is supposed to be about rest? If I make the wrong decision tonight, I could
be dead tomorrow. We have to leave the
tomb now as the Sabbath observance begins at sundown. The women plan to return the morning after
the Sabbath to anoint and prepare the body properly. I am invited to come and stay with the group
gathered at the tomb and with some if his closest friends. I decide to stay – partially because I am
just too exhausted to flee.
As
we gather in an upper room trying to console one another, his mother, Mary,
begins to tell us her story which we have never heard before. She tells us about her vision of an angel
when she was a young girl. The angel
told her that she would have a baby without ever knowing a man and how her son
would save his people from their sins.
She told us about the good carpenter, Joseph, to whom she was
betrothed. When he found out that she
was pregnant, he could have put her away, or even worse, reveal her pregnancy
to the elders of the synagogue. But an
angel also came to Joseph in a dream and this good and simple man took her as
his wife with the commitment to raise her son as his own.
Mary
then told us about what happened when they took the infant to the Temple to
present him. There was a holy man who
some claimed was a prophet, named Simeon.
He met them in the temple and took the baby in his arms. He thanked God that he has been allowed to
see the consolation of Israel. He then
said to Mary, “This child is destined to cause the falling and rising of many
in Israel, and to be a sign that will be spoken against so that the thoughts of
many hearts will be revealed. And a
sword will pierce your own soul too.” As
she repeated these words, we all knew this had just come to pass.
