What might Mary, Jesus’s Mother, have to say about his Passion?
Choose me. God’s whisperings to me and my son were always the same: choose me. Choose my will over yours, my plan over your own designs, and I will accomplish marvelous works through you. Choose me, and, through you, I will show the world how to love.
I sometimes wonder if God’s voice was strong enough in Jesus’s ears during his final days and hours to drown out all else for him: the nasty accusations of the priests and scribes, the jeers and taunts of the guards, the angry shouts of the crowd calling for his crucifixion, the sound of the nails being pounded into the cross on which he would hang. And yet, when I catch myself wondering, I have to pull myself up short and acknowledge that such musings are the fantasies of a heartbroken mother who longs to know that her cherished son did not suffer unspeakable torment.
But in my heart of hearts, I know Jesus heard every hurtful word and every resounding blow of the hammer. He heard every evil word spoken against him, every weapon that could be summoned by the power of darkness in its hour. But alongside and over that terrible din, I feel sure that he also heard the voice of God’s love and reassurance. How else could he resist the most persistent and powerful noise that sought to distract him from God’s calling? How else could he say “no” to the voice of fear that rose up inside of him?
That voice can be a temptation that is hard to turn away from. I often think of Jesus in Gethsemane and marvel at how he could say “yes” to God when easy freedom and escape were his for the taking. He could have just walked off into the wilderness and shunned all the suffering that awaited him. He could have slipped away and led a quiet life. Do you see? He could have chosen life. This earthly life that we know. But he didn’t. He struggled, and he considered, and he listened to a different call.
Of course none of us can know exactly what Jesus and his Father spoke to one another in those difficult hours, but I know how it was for me when I was asked to yield my will to God’s. God was indescribably kind and encouraging, allaying all of my fears. And believe me—the idea of being a young, unwed mother certainly did terrify me at first. But…how can I convey it…God just wrapped me in love that day, and I found that all I could do was say “yes.” I believe it was much the same for Jesus…perhaps even more so.
I like to imagine that God spoke tenderly to our son, calming his fears and doubts with a love at once strong and gentle…much like Jesus himself. Perhaps his request went something like this: “Son, will you do this for me? Will you show our people how to be vulnerable, how to be weak, how to be yielding? Will you let every power of evil assail you, so that I may show the inexhaustible depth of my mercy and healing and love? Will you, my Son, choose me, so that others may follow in your footsteps and make the same choice—the choice to love?”
Well, as I said, I don’t know what passed between them. I only know that Jesus said, “Not my will, but yours be done.” I only know that he listened to the insistent call of God, “Choose me.” And once he did, God worked a miracle beyond anyone’s imagining: Jesus resurrected and restored. Jesus alive eternally. Jesus inviting each of us to be emissaries of God’s compassion and healing in the face of suffering. Jesus calling: Choose me…choose God… choose love.
