Woman, behold your son IX

A significant part of our perception of a person’s greatness is our sense of their approachability. I am not alone in believing Abraham Lincoln to be the greatest man in western civilization. Yet all with whom he interacted were impressed with how common he was. He had the speech patterns of someone born deep within the frontier—which he was. His laugh was unrestrained. And his looks—“more like a gorilla than a man.

He loved being with the simple people, for that’s what he was. The important people who surrounded him during his presidency were hugely annoyed that Lincoln insisted on listening and talking to anyone who came to see him. When he tipped his hat to a newly freed slave, this was seen as an unacceptable political gaffe.

The disciples, as common as they were, did not understand why their Lord gave His valuable time to a Samaritan woman, to children, and to every beggar who hollered His name.

In Lincoln’s time, it was the poor and the needy who recognized his greatness. We read that those who met with him spoke of their encounter until the day they died.  “He was just like the rest of us,” they would say with great pride.

Imagine being Mary. Imagine her joy and her pride in Him after His death and resurrection and ascension as she came to understand exactly who it was that she had raised. 

Woman, behold your son VIII

My wife is not impressed with how impressed I am with important people. Obviously I’m not alone. Most everyone likes to be near a great sports star, or statesman, or a famous preacher. Dogs don’t care. They don’t care if the person they are with is the president of the United States or a bum on skid row. Only people care about importance.

I wonder if the Lord’s mother could quite understand how important her Son was? She knew Him intimately as a tiny baby, then as a toddler, then as a young child…I wonder if she could see Him as anyone but her son, so very human and, at one time, so very dependent upon herself?

The Westminster Creed tells us “the chief end of man is to glorify God and to enjoy Him forever.” As God incarnate, the Lord Jesus was all glorious; and a person with understanding would recognize this and worship Him for who He was.

Perhaps Jesus was reproachful to His mother because He was helping her see Him for all that He was—the One to be worshipped and thus, enjoyed forever.

All good moms eventually lose their sons.  Sons have to be their own persons, apart from their mothers. Mary may have lost that special relationship with her Son that only a mother can have with her child, but, so much better, she could have her Son forever, just as all who come to Him can have Him forever. 

Mother, behold your son. VII

Religious ferver, in fact any type of ferver, can make people morally imbalanced. As people living in this world, we have certain obligations to others.

As a son, our Lord had obligations to His mother which He did not disregard. Interestingly, His very first miracle was done at the prompting of His mother despite the fact that His "hour had not yet come."

We know itinerant preachers who, "for the sake of the gospel," neglected their families. We know the bitterness this has caused their children.

From my earliest years, I have known fervent Christians who in their zeal have left miles of flatsom in their wake. 

If you are not a kind person, guess what? You are nothing for the Lord. I Cor 13:3

Our Lord gave up everything when He went to the cross. But He did not give up His obligations to His mother. Then He said to the disciple, "Behold your mother." And from that hour on, the disciple took her to his own home.

Woman, behold your son VI

In a good situation, a mother has no needs, wants, hopes, obligations, or anything at all that she might possibly claim a right to that does not become secondary to the nurturing of her child.

Of course the same was true for the mother of our Savior.

What an incredible privilege it was for Mary to be chosen to be this mother. No mother ever had such a child to put her life into.

Nonetheless, every instance that we read of in the Gospels where the Lord Jesus was interacting with His mother, we see Him distancing Himself from her. Three times He reproves her: “Did you not know…?”  “Woman what does this have to do with me?” “Who are my mother and my brothers?”

While on the cross He does not call her mother, He calls her woman.

Did Jesus not love His mother? Was she not unique and special in His life? Did He not like every son ever brought up by a good mother have certain obligations of affection for her?

We can only surmise what feelings our Lord had for His mother. But we know for certain that He was her kind and gracious Savior, just as He is the kind and gracious Savior of all who come to Him.

We also know that in the midst of His suffering on the cross, He was concerned to make provision for her, both materially and maternally for He said to her, “Woman, behold your son.” And to the disciple whom He loved, “Behold your mother.”

Woman, behold your son V

It seems to me that John was way over the top when he kept referring to himself as the disciple whom Jesus loved. Obviously, Jesus loves everybody, right? The first song children all over the world learn to sing is, "Jesus loves me this I know, for the Bible tells me so."

Well, maybe the Bible tells me so.

We do know that God so loved the world--the world, of course, includes all of us. And Jesus is God incarnate. But when Scripture speaks of those who Jesus specifically loves, it only mentions the rich young ruler; Mary, Martha and Lazarus; the one disciple whom we assume is John; and "His own who are in the world."

Who are "His own?" 

A loved one is always someone who can be counted upon. One of the first things that happened when I was falling in love with the woman who was to become my wife was we started counting upon each other. If she said she would meet me some place, she would never stand me up. If she made a request of me, I was overjoyed to comply.

When Jesus let John know that He wanted him to take care of His mama, we read, "from that very hour the disciple took her to his home."

Woman, behold your son IV

John seemed to characterize himself as a “favorite” of Jesus. He regularly describes himself in his gospel as “the disciple whom Jesus loved.” He speaks of himself as resting on Christ's bosom during the last supper. In these words of Christ, he is even elevated to the position of replacing Jesus in the family.

I wonder how the other disciples responded to John's view of himself as “the disciple that Jesus loved.” Did they balk at this description? Were they upset when John insisted on taking in Mary?

In John 21:21, Peter asks Christ about John. To this Jesus answers, “what is that to you?” Peter has been charged with his own task of “feeding the sheep,” he need not worry about John.

I try to view myself as a favorite of Jesus, too. This does not mean to me that He loves others any less. But it does mean that I see myself as especially responsible to Him. I think the title “the disciple that Jesus loved” is one we all might wish to bare.

Daniel

Woman, behold your son III

The angel Gabriel proclaimed Mary, the mother of our Lord, to be the favored one and the Scriptures tell us, "She was greatly troubled at the saying and tried to discern what sort of greeting this might be."

That seems like an odd reaction. One would understand her being frightened at seeing an angel. But what is one to make of her being frightened of being called favored?

Was her fear because Mary understood from the Scriptures that all whom God favored were also those who went through great trials and through great sorrow?

Who was more favored than King David? Yet read his piteous laments in the Psalms. And Joseph, the glorious, honored and weeping son of Jacob; And Moses, friend of God, burdened with the wandering multitude of malcontents.

"Woman, behold your son," said the Lord Jesus. Mary beheld her son: beaten, scorned, spat upon and high and lifted up as the Almighty Conqueror of Sin and Death.