“When Jesus Saw His Mother”
3. The Word of Devotion
NOW THERE STOOD BY THE CROSS OF JESUS HIS MOTHER,
AND HIS MOTHER’S SISTER, MARY THE WIFE OF CLEOPHAS,
AND MARY MAGDALENE. WHEN JESUS THEREFORE SAW HIS MOTHER,
AND THE DISCIPLE STANDING BY, WHOM HE LOVED, HE SAITH UNTO HIS
MOTHER, WOMAN, BEHOLD THY SON! THEN SAITH HE TO THE DISCIPLE,
BEHOLD THY MOTHER! AND FROM THAT HOUR THAT DISCIPLE
TOOK HER UNTO HIS OWN HOME[John 19:25–27].
STUNNED AT THE GHASTLY scene being enacted before their very eyes, a group of Jesus’ devoted followers are clustered at the foot of His cross. They are Mary, His mother; Mary, wife of Cleophas (whom Hegesippus tells us was brother of Joseph), an aunt of Jesus’; Salome, John’s mother; and Magdalene.
And Mary stood beside the cross! Her soul
Pierced with the selfsame wound that rent His side
Who hung thereon. She watched Him as He died.
Her Son! Saw Him paying the cruel toll
Exacted by the law, and unbelief,
Since He their evil will had dared defy;
There stood the mother, helpless in her grief,
Beside the cross, and saw her firstborn die.
CLYDE MCGEE
If the previous word from the cross struck a deathblow at the errors of soul-sleep and purgatory, this demolishes the system of Mariolatry. If, as is asserted, Mary is queen of heaven and mother of God, then surely Jesus should have committed John into her care, not her to John.
It is significant that He does not now address her as “mother,” but merely uses the courteous title “woman,” a highly respectful mode of address. He refrained from using a word that would spring naturally to His lips, but that could be twisted into authorizing idolatry through rendering worship to Mary as Mother of God. There is no ground here for the doctrine that Mary is patroness of the saints and protectress of the church. On the contrary, she needed protection herself. Henry Alford remarks that the idea that the Lord commended all His disciples, as represented by the beloved one, to the patronage of His mother is simply absurd.
By now the disciples, who had so boldly protested that they were prepared to die rather than deny Him (John 11–16), had all fled. John’s panic was shortlived, and before long he was back once more with the women at his loved Master’s side, gazing, with tear-dimmed eyes on His dying agonies.
More than thirty years before, when Mary had taken her precious charge to the Temple, she had been met by the aged and saintly Simeon. The old man had long been anticipating the advent of the Messiah, took the Child in his arms and said, “Lord, now lettest thou thy servant depart in peace, according to thy word: For mine eyes have seen thy salvation” (Luke 2:29–30). Then turning to Mary he made the mysterious but prophetic statement, “Yea, a sword shall pierce through thy own soul also” (Luke 2:35).
It is always so. Those who love most deeply, suffer most intensely. For Mary, “the greatest of all privileges was to bring with it the greatest of all sorrows.” At the time of Simeon’s prediction it must have seemed remote and improbable to the young mother, but now its mystery is resolved. The mother of the Man of sorrows must share the sorrows of her Son.
“There He hung before her eyes,” wrote James Stalker. “But she was helpless. His wounds bled, but she dare not staunch them. His mouth was parched but she could not moisten it…. The nails pierced her as well as Him. The thorns round His brow were a circle of flame around her heart.”
“There stood by the cross of Jesus his mother” (John 19:25).
Where else would one expect to find such a mother? It was her very own Son who was suffering. The outstretched arms and nail-torn hands once had clung around her neck. The head now tortured with a crown of thorns was once pillowed on her breast. The mouth on which she had once lavished her kisses of love was now parched and swollen. Though powerless to help, she could at least be beside Him in loyalty and love.
Sympathetically she entered into all His sufferings. The spear pierced her heart as it rent His flesh. With joy she had followed His career, had feared and prayed for Him, had rejoiced in His successes and wept over His disappointments. But now He was dying as a criminal, not as a hero! What an end to the life of such a Son! Lest she add to His sufferings, she did not give way to uncontrolled weeping, but repressed her grief as the sword pierced her soul. She did not faint or swoon, she “stood.” He had enough suffering of His own without her adding to His overflowing cup of sorrow.
“When Jesus therefore saw His mother … he said, Woman, behold thy son.”
As already indicated, our Lord’s use of the word “woman” implied no disrespect. It is rather the equivalent of our “lady.” One suggestion concerning its use is that Jesus did not call her “mother,” lest identification with Him should expose her to insult, a suggestion in keeping with His innate courtesy and considerateness.
There is a yet deeper significance in Jesus’ refusal to use the word “mother,” the word above all others she would be longing to hear once again from His lips. Jesus was breaking to her the painful truth that henceforth the special relationship between them no longer obtained. From that moment she could be to Him no more than any other woman. He must have no rival in His mediatorial ministry. Was this the sharpest shaft that pierced her heart? But after Pentecost she was to have sweet compensation when she discovered “that she had been led from the natural union with Jesus to the mystical union with Christ.”
In every relationship of life Jesus was the pattern Man. As child and as man He always honored His father and mother. His last thought was to make suitable provision for the one from whom He had derived His human nature. Her husband was dead. He could no longer make provision for her Himself. His brothers were evidently still unbelieving. He had nothing to bequeath to her. Mary would find a congenial home with the disciple who dearly loved Him. These two, of similar temperament and united by a common love, would be able to live over again together the hallowed days of His companionship and derive comfort from their recollection. It would appear that John was wealthy and could make ample provision for her needs. Tradition has it that they lived together for twelve years in Jerusalem, and that John refused to leave the city as long as she survived.
Our Lord left an example for all whose parents are still living. He honored His mother (Exodus 20:12). The growing disregard on the part of young people of their obligations to their parents is fraught with serious social consequences. All obligation to parents does not cease when children become of age. It is true they are no longer under parental control, but that does not absolve them from the necessity of continuing to honor father and mother. During His minority Jesus was subject to His parents (Luke 2:51). Among His last acts on earth was an honoring of His mother by making provision for her physical needs and spiritual companionship.
There is no excuse that is valid before God for neglecting one’s parents, and if there has been such neglect, the path of blessing will be to make amends at once. Paul’s words are very clear: “If any widow have children or nephews, let them learn first to shew piety at home; and to requite their parents: for that is good and acceptable before God…. But if any provide not for his own, and specially for those of his own house, he hath denied the faith, and is worse than an infidel” (1 Timothy 5:4, 8).
Jesus may well have been excused had He been so engrossed in His own sufferings as to overlook the future of His mother. Or He might have been so occupied with the stupendous work of redemption that He was achieving as to forget the ties of nature. But such was not the case. Although He was in extremis, He had leisure of heart to attend to a detail of ordinary family life. In His dying moments He made His verbal last will and testament—almost a legal directive, yet prompted by tender love.
Jesus had a true conception of the relationship of the natural to the spiritual. He demonstrated that the fact of our having responsibilities in spiritual work does not relieve us of our natural obligations. It is never justifiable to sacrifice our families on the altar of meeting attendance. Holiness never thrives on neglected duties.
This word from the cross marks the close of the human aspect of His work. He had prayed for His enemies; He had given assurance and comfort to the penitent thief; He had made loving provision for the care of His mother. Soon the veil of darkness would fall as He entered upon the last, the most costly phase of His atoning work.