(For this I
was called favoured...)
His face was set,
towards Jerusalem,
and every step he took
tore at my soul;
the shadow that
followed in
his wake
had darkened
and deepened
in those days,
and the promised blessing
weighed heavy…
..what call is this?
what favour
to watch your son
proceed
to certain death?
Night by night,
my dreams turned
to nightmares
piercing my
already aching heart
ahead of time.
There were no angels here,
no shepherds singing
or rejoicing,
no magi bearing gifts.
And yet the world went on,
crowds came and went,
his disciples squabbled and questioned.
I held my tongue,
he knew where he
was going…
and I waited,
waited for
my heart
to break.
This African pieta by Sister Mary Grace Thul reminds us that Marys experience speaks deep into the heart of many mothers today. Mothers who will watch their children die, who live in the fear and shadow of that death day by day. As I ponder the themes of Lent I find that it speaks to our fear and brokenness if we allow it to at depths that we often flee from preferring instead to look always to the resurrection and not wanting to dwell in the place of confusion or pain. For me the need to dwell in the shadow is essential for it extends the mystery, and highlights the wonder while at the same time acknowledging darkness of some human experiences. I need the pieta, to truly celebrate Easter!
