I have seen it often. People
as they near death remember their parents, speak of their mothers. After Jesus
revealed himself as the light, as the Son of Man, as the Messiah, Jesus went
into hiding. (Read John 12:20-36)
What does the Son of Man
think about in the week of death as he hides from those who would kill him, because
it is not yet his time? No doubt he thinks about how frustrating it is for God
the Father to see that the people who hear about, even meet Jesus, cannot get past
fact the that in the calculus of human wisdom, what Jesus is about to do is
foolishness. Who would arrange for their own son’s death, even if it is to save
the world from itself? (Read I Corinthians
1:18-31) Jesus in hiding shakes his head,
and perhaps even his fists. Why do people still not know the boundless love of God,
after all this time?
But then his thoughts turn to
the inevitability of his mission, the very reason he was born. Which, of
course, makes him think of his mother. Does he wish she was with him now? Is he
hoping she will understand the mystery of his existence in some greater detail
by the end of the week?
He knows it was the LORD who
formed him in his mother’s womb to be the LORD’s servant, to become the Redeemer
for the tribes of Jacob, the survivors of Israel, yes, but also to bring
salvation that reaches the ends of the earth.
From his mother’s womb, where his mother cared for him like mothers
throughout the ages, dreaming of their children’s future. (Read Isaiah 49:1-7)
Jesus sings himself to sleep
this Tuesday night. “Upon you have I leaned from by birth; it was you who
took me from my mother’s womb.” (Read
Psalm 71:1-14)
“O God, do not be far from
me; O my God, make haste to help me.”
Hiding. Resting. Waiting. Sleep well, Son of Man, son of Mary, for soon there will be
sleep no more.
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