The King’s Mother

A heavy silence – a potent concoction of the depths of evil and the inevitability of what is about to take place – the reality of what needs to be done to save mankind.

Hope will be restored, sickness cured, love given life, and the sting of death removed forever.

But at what cost?

“There’s no escaping this mother. It must be done.”

“But why you? Why my son??? Haven’t you done enough?!!”

“Mother..”

” Is this some kind of sick joke??? What did I do to deserve this? To watch my son be put to death?!!”

He smiles at her.

His is a gentle smile of affection, understanding, and such compassion.

But there is more to this particular smile; more meaning – as though there is far more to His impending ordeal than just being put to death.

The undercurrents of the smile do not go unnoticed.

“What….what is it? There’s more isn’t there?!! There’s more to this than you’re telling me.

What….what exactly are they about to do to you?”

“Mother….I…I’m not sure you want to hear this.”

“Tell me…tell me now,” she says, as a well of emotion seizes her entire body – floods of tears streaming out of her tender eyes.

Jesus looks at his mother – intently this time.

He now sees something in her that he hasn’t noticed before – a strength of mind and purpose.

When the time comes she will be a source of strength.

Better to tell her everything now, so as to strengthen her resolve for what is to come.

“Mother, you are most blessed among all women. For you are the mother of the Son of the living God.

But you are about to see things that will push you to the very depths of despair.

“See what my son? See what?”

“I shall be whipped in public – over 600 lashes. I will be ridiculed, abused, laughed at, spat at, and beaten, even as I carry the weight of the world on my shoulders.”

“Wh…what do you mean the weight of the world?”

“Remember mother…I came so that you will have life.

I must die for all the sins of the world, so that mankind is reconciled to my father – He who sent me.

I must do His will.

They will torture me – physically, mentally, and emotionally.

They will make me carry a heavy plank of wood for many miles – beating and abusing me along the way.

Then they will crucify me on a wooden cross and leave me there until my last breath.”

“No son..,no..you don’t have to do this.

Why not flee now?

Flee so that you can escape this evil!!

I will find you.

Go!

Go my son!”

“I can’t mother.

I must do my father’s will.

It is why I am here.

It is the only way.”

His reply does not surprise her.

She knows her son.

A man of dignity and honour.

A man that always does exactly as He says he will.

A man who has always known His destiny and purpose, and never for one second shied away from it.

Silence reigns, as Mary allows all that is to come to fully sink in.

The tears begin to subside – gradually replaced by a renewed strength and vigour.

She knows her son will not run from His mission.

She also knows that when the time comes she will have to be strong – for His sake.

She will be with Him every step of the way.

Thank you Mother.

“For what?”

“For being you.”

His mother has finally accepted His fate, and will be a source of strength in His time of need.

“Get up! Get up King of kings!

Or do you want me to bow to you first???” mocks the soldier.

He had fallen to the ground again – His strength waning.

Skin parched by the scorching heat of the sun – a vicious thirst obstructing his breathing.

As he lay on the floor, the plank still weighing heavily on His shoulders, sand in His eyes and mouth, ridicule and abuse all around Him, He sees His mother.

Despite being in the midst of chaos, as those around her hurl insult after insult at her son, she is a vision of calm and surety.

No more tears

She finally understands what her son is doing for the sake of mankind – even those that are presently leading Him to His death.

His eyes remain fixed on hers – as though drawing strength from them.

Though the final stage of His journey to Golgotha will be no less painful, He is strengthened in the knowledge of His mother’s presence.

Yes, of course His real strength comes from His father in heaven. But His mother is also playing her part – by His side in this momentous hour.

As the sun goes down only a few remain – Mother, son, and a lone soldier.

Despite the fact his comrades have long gone, this soldier remains.

He relents in his inquisitive gaze at the man on the cross – eventually kneeling down before Him as it dawns on him that this is no ordinary man.

As he kneels down he observes the woman on his left. The one he now knows to be the mother of the Son of God – his eyes pleading for her forgiveness.

“What have we done?!! What have we done?!!” he mutters to himself.

Mary looks at him and smiles – a smile of love and forgiveness.

Although he has played his own devilish role in the brutal murder of her son, she is not angry.

She is thankful that he and his comrades have played their part in what must surely have been ordained a long long time ago.