My thoughts turned to the very first Easter. No matter the weather of the day, bright sunshine or overcast skies; warm temperatures or cold breezes, likely Jesus' mother, would have only noticed the cold, dark emotional upheaval and grief. She and others that loved him have just been through the most emotional filled turmoil few days of their lives. The week began on a high of Palm Sunday with Jesus being celebrated as he entered Jerusalem. Songs, palm leaves, celebrity status. The week ended in the worst possible way as the people turned on Jesus, ultimately crucifying him on in a gruesome manner on the cross.
Mary, Jesus' mother, has always intrigued me. I am awed by her faith, complete obedience to God, and acceptance to her situation. Very contrary to my personal tendency to question everything and do things my way. But Mary, she had special intimacy with the most Holy, most High God as she carried His only son in her womb. When the Angel told her she would conceive this baby miraculously, she accepted it with these words of Luke 1:38 “I am the Lord’s servant,” Mary answered. “May your word to me be fulfilled.”
Beyond her complete acceptance and obedience, Mary was the mother of this baby, rearing him into adulthood. I am of a mother of two,I have my experiences of babies and children of my own and a few others. Somehow, I don't think any of these children are anything like baby Jesus. I wonder what it was like to raise the Lord Jesus. He was fully human and fully God, perplexing for a simple minded soul like myself. Surely as a baby, he cried when hungry, wet diaper, cold, uncomfortable, or just wanting to be held. Most certainly he 'fell down and went boom', bruised, cut, hurt. Scripture speaks of siblings. What of sibling rivalries? Or of teenage attitudes? Did Jesus need to be reminded to watch his tone? Be kind to his siblings? Eat his vegetables? Do his chores? Did little Jesus ever require a spanking or discipline of any type? I believe raising Jesus was a completely different experience than raising her other children as Jesus never sinned... never.
Can you imagine looking into your child's eyes to realize he looks directly into your soul, knowing you better than yourself? How does one respond to a child that knew scripture better than the most learned teachers of the time? How could he be comforted, the one who can heal completely any physical or spiritual wound? Yet, Mary had this honor, privilege, and even challenge.
Mary was there, the first Palm Sunday through Easter. How her mother's heart must have been beyond comfort. She may have cried until only dry tears flowed. Her heart ached and broke as she watched all the horrible proceedings. The scourging as Jesus was beat beyond recognition, the crown of thorns, the jeering, the tortuous walk carrying his cross, the nails, the crucifixion, his death. She may have been unable to look yet unable to not look. Unable to stay away, desiring to comfort her boy, seeking out His eyes to likely to find them strangely calm and deeply sad, trying to understand those things she 'pondered in her heart' as she raised him. Attempting to make sense of it all.
The time between His death and resurrection would have been bleak and grief riddled. Even if the sun was shining would she have noticed, as her personal world was dark with little hope? This miraculous baby she conceived and raised to a man now dead, how does He now save the world? How does God die? She perhaps went through her own personal faith crisis. I would, I know I would have a faith crisis. In desperation, I would visit his grave, perhaps only to leave by coercion. That first Easter morning would have felt cold, dark, bleak much like my Easter morning this year.
This Easter of 2013, the clouds cleared away, the sun shone bright, the birds began to sing. Perhaps much like how the word spread that Jesus is alive, death did not hold him, the tomb is empty. The day brightened, the dark clouds of despair cleared, the day brightened as hope renewed. Jesus is alive!
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