Companioning with Christ's Last Words - "Woman, Behold Your Son"

Have you pictured yourself at the foot of the cross watching, through fingers covering your eyes, the agony of Jesus’ dying? St Ignatius has us lingering there in the Spiritual Exercises, present in our prayer and imagination, as we try to dispel disbelief at the violent reaction of humanity to merciful, unconditional Love. We might find ourselves standing beside his mother, Mary of Nazareth, as she aches for the impending loss of her only child and so much more. With a groan, Jesus attempts to speak; every word a pearl, as the weight of his body crushes his lungs. His effort, his desire to communicate, strains our hearts as we see what it costs him to utter the words he wants us to hear and remember.

The third time he pulls himself up on the nails that hold him to the cross, he looks at Mary with tremendous love and says, “Woman, behold your son…” and then to John, “…behold your mother.”

Wait! What? My head swings her direction as I hear her draw in her breath, sharply. A thousand emotions cross her face. In Scripture, she is silent, but we who have watched mother and son exchange banter and affection over the years, know that she is a woman who speaks of what her heart knows.

I can almost hear her cry out, “But wait, Jesus! I don’t want anyone else; I want you!”

What is Jesus doing here? It is a hundred times more layered than simply asking John to take his mother into his home/into his care. Jesus is not just tying up loose ends or arranging that his mother still retain a livelihood, safety, and representation in society. He addresses his mother as he feels his human life ebbing away from him, acknowledging his inability to act on his own strength anymore.

I don’t contest the overarching response to grace of Mary and Jesus, nor do I question Mary’s willingness to comply with Jesus’ last request. Humanly speaking however, was there a question or a moment of bargaining that rushed to Mary’s lips before her consent took hold?

Was Jesus, as an only son, also asking something else from Mary as his mother?

Before my father died of cancer over a decade ago, I flew down to visit. My two sisters met me at the airport. We had seen his decline, heard the doctor’s prognosis, and seen the anxious toll it was taking on my mother as his caregiver. This was a reality that wouldn’t just require oversight from our intellect, dealing with ultimate decisions and practical matters, but a response from our hearts. What was needed to help Dad and Mom make this final transition of their relationship?

He found little relief in rest but as he made his way to the room to take a nap, I walked with him. He sat on the edge of the bed; I knelt in front of him. He put his hands on either side of my face, as he did so often, and said quietly, “Mo, don’t forget me.” Time stopped. Of all the things my father could’ve asked of me, I never anticipated this one.

His words rushed upon me; I knew so little about death! What actually happens when we have to face our mortality in an indisputable way? What thoughts will course like a river through our minds, carving gullies in our hearts, when we know that we stand at that threshold? We will move from a vigorous, autonomous life to a total surrender in death, invited to put the full measure of our trust in the faith we have lived every day before, and - if there is unfinished business - to rely on others to do what we can no longer do ourselves.

What becomes most important? “Take care of your mother for me,” was my Dad’s next request.

What if, in all of Jesus’ glorious and ordinary humanity, these words recalled from the cross to Mary and John, were the simple plea of every man and woman facing death, “Don’t forget me.” See me in the stars, in the rainbows, see me in one another. Look for me in those I advocated for: in the poor and marginalized, the invisible and underdog. Do for them what I can no longer do. Take up my mantle, be the voice of the kingdom, carry the mission forward, extend yourself beyond preference and social norms; do all this in memory of me.

There is powerful grace at work here, at the foot of the cross, as you behold the Son and the Son beholds you and his mother.

So much is being communicated beyond words.

Holding his gaze in this moment, what do you want Jesus to know?

Going Deeper Together:

• Have you lost someone in your life that meant a great deal to you? It could be fruitful to bring your loss and your memories, even photographs, to the foot of the cross and share them with Mary. Share your heart, your grief, and your loss with her as a kind of colloquy and allow her to carry it with you.
• Create a personal Litany of Remembrance listing those you have lost over your lifetime, adding current figures and important people of note for yourself. Pray this litany. Listing these names can be a source of healing and release, perhaps even create a paper prayer chain with their names for a tactile commemoration during Lent.
• Lisa Kelly ponders deeply the powerful Suscipe Prayer of St Ignatius; a prayer that calls us to lifelong surrender and comes from the “Contemplation to Attain God’s Way of Loving” in the Spiritual Exercises. Embracing the Suscipe - Ignatian Spirituality
• As you reflect on Monique’s blog and Jesus’ words to his mother from the cross, reflect on Monique’s question: “Holding Jesus’ gaze, what do you want Jesus to know?” Please feel free to add your thoughts to the Comment Section.
• Or if you used any of the resources Monique recommended, is there anything you would like to share? We would love to hear from you during Lent!

Photo by Mateus Campos Felipe on Unsplash

Monique Jacobs

Monique Jacobs has been engaged in professional active ministry in the church for 40+ years, offering workshops, retreats, and writing. She accompanies people in these roles, and as a Spiritual Director, using Ignatian methods and spirituality. Her joy is to serve as mentor and companion to others, highlighting their gifts and helping to build up the body of Christ. Monique also hosts a YouTube Channel: Finding God in All Things, new videos posted weekly. Monique serves as the Director of Mission and Identity for Catholic Charities of Northern Nevada. Subscribe to Monique’s YouTube Channel, Finding God In All Things.