Swift Love

John 19:25-27 NRSV

Upon reading this text – again – I began to wonder some things I had not thought of before. Like, where is Joseph? And, where are Mary’s other children, Jesus’ siblings?

Why weren’t they there with Mary? With Jesus? What could have possibly kept them away?

Sickness? Incarceration? Distance? Fear? Death?

Or worse…Fear? Broken relationships? Betrayal? Apathy?

“When,” as the text says, “Jesus saw his mother” – was he responding in part to who he did not see? Who was missing at that moment?

In which case would an absence be understandable? Acceptable? Forgivable?

It would appear that when the text states “and from that hour the disciple took her into his own home” that whatever kept Joseph and Jesus’ siblings from accompanying Mary and standing with Jesus during this most difficult and god-forsaken experience was permanent in nature. Or at the very least would not be resolved in the near future.  It seems that they – Mary, the disciple Jesus loved, and Jesus – all believed and understood in their hearts – that sadly, the very same thing that kept Mary and Jesus’ kin away on this day would prevent them from adequately caring for Mary from this day forward.

Perhaps Jesus noticed something in his mother’s eyes when he saw her from the cross? Her pain and sorrow shadowed by fear? Quiet rage held up by despair? Hate drenched in shame? Unabashed pride enlivened by profound love?

I imagine that Jesus’ reaction was not simply pragmatic. He wasn’t thinking practically and attempting to put things in order with his last breath.

I believe Jesus loved his mother deeply; his heart breaking by what she so carefully tried to hide – but Mary’s eyes gave her away.  The forcefulness of her tears against unwavering eyes that never left Jesus’ face; tears rolling off of the hard edges of her jaw as she clenched her mouth to keep from screaming.

From that cross, love moved swiftly and Jesus gave his final directives.

Beneath that cross, love was received fully as both Mary and the disciple whom Jesus loved responded in obedience.

There was release. There was being claimed.

There was a path towards healing. There was grace.

Moments before he committed his spirit to God – Jesus was still turning things around and staying true to his self-proclaimed purpose – “I came so that you might have life and have it more abundantly.”

In a time when state-sanctioned murder is still occurring, how do we show up? Stand in solidarity? Care for one another? Bear witness?

What can we learn from Jesus’ example in a time when the criminalizing of an entire race too often leads to grieving loved ones being unable to say goodbye to family members that have died?

How does the church model standing in the gap? Extravagant hospitality? Centering restorative practice?

As a resurrection people, in what ways are we open to holding one another and to be held? To commit to not being alone in our fear and grief? To be willing to share tender-strength and unyielding trust? To be sanctuary for one another?

It’s a new season. We have been given a new opportunity to be like Jesus. Again.

And to see, truly see one another.  And respond in love. Swiftly.

Reverend Dr. Marilyn Pagán-Banks (she/her/hers/ella) is a queer womanist freedom fighter, minister, spiritual entrepreneur, teacher, and life-long learner committed to the liberation of colonized peoples, centering the marginalized, building power and creating community. She lives in Chicago with her spouse and their teenage son and has two adult daughters and eight grandchildren. Dr. Pagán-Banks currently serves as executive director of A Just Harvest, pastor at San Lucas UCC and Namasté UCC, and adjunct professor at McCormick Theological Seminary.