Saturday, while preparing for Easter dinner and arranging Forsythia in a vase, I found myself wondering what Saturday was like for Mary.
Mary, did friends and neighbors come with casseroles, like happens here when someone dies?
Where were you staying, since Nazareth was home?
Did folks put aside their questions on who your son really was to comfort you? After all, they knew him way back when he played in the dirt with other kids, long before he started writing in it, making some very religious folks uncomfortable, nervous enough to drop their stones and accusations.
Or did folks stay away, like the disciples, fearful of “guilt by association”?
Mary , did you sleep at all Friday or Saturday nights or were images too graphic whenever you closed your eyes? This baby boy you’d swaddled, nursed, washed and hung his diapers to dry, now hung out to die on a cross.
Mary, did you doubt?
Who doesn’t wonder when bad things happen where God’s gone off to or if He ever really was? I know Jesus asked John to take care of you but what could he do or say to tend your hurting heart, maybe your broken dreams of Jesus and his talk of God’s Kingdom on earth.
Mary, did your fists and stomach knot-up when you heard your son cry, “Father, forgive them. They don’t know what they’re doing”? Did you wonder if you could forgive?
It’s Saturday, Mary. Knowing what you’ve witnessed, can you still sing,” My soul praises the Lord and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior, for he has been mindful of the humble state of his servant. From now on all generations will call me blessed for the Mighty One has done great things for me–holy is his name.”? (Luke 1:46-49 NIV)
What went on inside you, Mary, between the hours of hearing your son cry, “It is finished” and learning the tomb was empty?
You knew him best, Mary, and loved him as only a mother loves. It helps me to think you must’ve wondered about your parenting, questioned outcomes, wrestled with forgiveness and singing again. Your son was sinless, you weren’t, even though you’re Holy, Mary, and God’s Mother. You needed a Savior, too.
Easter’s over until next year, along with Lent.
The calendar reads Monday but it’s Saturday for most of us, where life dangles between bad news and hope, even for those of us who believe the story’s true and mean it when we shout, “Christ is risen!”
Saturday with it’s sameness and challenges to hold onto Hope, to trust God one more time with our doubts, our prayers that sometimes seem to go nowhere, to find faith enough to wipe our eyes, take a deep breath and sing something in darkness of day or night, like Mary.
“My soul praises the Lord and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior…He has done great things for me–holy is his name.”
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