Today is Good Friday, a day to remember Jesus’ sacrifice for us.
We have no trouble visualising the “Jesus as God” part of the equation – there are so many paintings across the ages that give an ethereal depiction – but we sometimes find it harder to remember the human side of Jesus. He was fully God, but also fully Man, able to identify with us and reconcile us to God. He is not remote – He knows our weaknesses, and has compassion for our frailties.
I came across this song recently, and thought it was a reminder of the man Jesus – the one who had a real, flesh and blood body, who lived a real life and took on real suffering for us, bled real blood for us, who had a real mother he loved as a son.
Real pain.
Real blood.
Real love.
For us.
Perhaps we gloss over the real story because it’s easier to distance ourselves; to not have to engage our emotions or think about what it really means for us.
If tradition is right, both about Mary’s age when Jesus was born, and Jesus’ age at his crucifixion, I am now about the same age she would have been when she watched her little boy die, in blood and pain.
I don’t know how I could have handled that. But it makes it seem more real. And it compels a response, one way or another.
1000 Fields of Roses 