{Holy Week} Mary’s Sacrifice

I don’t think it’s possible to fully appreciate Christ’s sacrifice without also meditating on Mary’s unconditional love.  I’ve always found it interesting that non-Catholics are a bit trepidacious about our belief and homage to Mary.  As a Protestant, I was intrigued but never disturbed about the devotion.  As a Catholic convert, I finally get it.

You see, as humans, we never question the love a mother has for her child.  We never hover over a microscope and perilously question why mothers seek other mother’s advice or counsel when they travel a similar road of parenthood.  We never praise a child without wondering what role the mother played.  We rarely dismiss the admiration a child has for his mother when he shows her love.  We likely don’t question her unconditional love and concern when her child is hurt.

Then why, with all that is holy, do we question the teaching of Mary within the church?  She said YES to Gabriel {not sure I would have}.  She rode a donkey when she was NINE months pregnant {I didn’t even ride in my heated minivan seats longer than a half hour}.  She humbly gave birth in a BARN to the Messiah {can you say epidural?}.  She ANXIOUSLY looked for him near the temple {um, I would’ve been panicking big time}.  Her HEART must’ve nearly leapt from her chest when he was CRUCIFIED {no way would I have lived through that pain}.  A woman like that not only deserves our honor and praise, but a spot in heaven, as well.  Oh right, she has one.

If you haven’t seen The Passion of the Christ, then I urge you to consider watching it this Friday.  The creative license the director took in capturing Mary’s pain resonates with me on many levels.  There is no Biblical account of her experience, but our human nature tells us that her pain was great.  While none of us have experienced that kind of anguish, we have all carried a cross or two during our lifetime.  Don’t worry if you haven’t, God’s special ordering yours.

There was undoubtedly pain when we lost our second child to miscarriage.  I thought there was no greater loss.  The helplessness I felt when my husband lost his father was massive.  I was caring for a three-week-old newborn and watching him serve as the rock for his family during that loss.  The surrealness of Luke’s pregnancy, birth, delivery and repeated hospital stays will never leave me.  My heart was permanently altered.  A mother’s love cannot be contained, nor described in any language except the divine.

There is a beautiful song by Kutless, “Carry Me to the Cross.”  You see, God provided Jesus with a Simon, to carry his cross.  Never forget that He carries yours everyday and you have a mighty intercessor in his mother.