Have You Walked the Road to the Cross?

Growing up, I don’t know if I ever heard the term Maundy Thursday. I was taught what Scripture tells us about the events leading to the cross. I may have even attended a church service on the Thursday before Easter, but if I did, I didn’t know it had a specific name. When I was in high school, we attended a Baptist church. They focus on Good Friday, and I know for sure I went to services then and knew what to call it.

Giving the Thursday before Good Friday a name and definition is a relatively new thing for me. The church we now attend recognizes Maundy Thursday with an evening service on the Thursday before Easter Sunday. This service has become one of my favorites, right up there with Christmas Eve. I love it because it is painfully beautiful. In a time of quiet reflection, we walk with Christ through his last meal with his disciples, him washing their feet, his betrayal, Peter’s denial, and finally his crucifixion.

Something happens as we progress from breaking bread to a broken body. We catch a glimpse into the fear and despair of Christ and those who loved him most as he walks into his darkest hour. Not since his birth has he felt so fully human to me.

I can’t help but think about the baby Jesus we were singing carols to just a few months ago. God placed his most precious gift in the hands of an inexperienced girl. So much could have gone wrong, yet God trusted a girl with no social status or value with a baby who would grow up to be the Savior of the world. He handed over the best he had to offer and essentially told her, Please take care of him for me. He has a very important job to do, so please see that he makes it past infancy. I’m well aware of what the infant mortality rate is, but I trust you. I’ll be here every step of the way. I have faith in you.

Now here we are. Mary did her job. She treasured the years and mysteries in her heart. She loved him, raised him, washed him, taught him the laws of the Torah, sang the Shabbat over him every week, worried over him. Now, on Maundy Thursday, she watches him die.

John records a small exchange between Jesus and his mother in chapter 19, verses 26 and 27. The Marys have stayed with Jesus and maintained a vigil as he suffered on the cross:

“When Jesus saw his mother and the disciple whom he loved standing beside her, he said to his mother, ‘Woman, here is your son.’ Then he said to his disciple, ‘Here is your mother.’ And from that hour the disciple took her into his home.”

In just two short verses, we see a tender exchange between mother and son. Jesus knew that Mary could not continue through life safely without a male to be head of her household. Throughout his ministry Jesus showed a tenderness towards widows and now his own mother, a widow, was about to enter an even lower socio-economic status than a widow: she would be a widow without a son.

He knew she needed protection. The rules of society dictated that women had no place or worth without a husband or son to be the head of the house. His last act of service was to ensure that his mother would be taken care of, so he proclaimed his beloved disciple in charge of her well-being.

When she wrapped her baby in swaddling clothes, did Mary have an inkling of his fate? Did she carry this burden in her heart as she brought him up to be a good Jewish boy? We can only speculate how her inside knowledge of his lineage affected her parenting. Perhaps she held him loosely, knowing God had bigger plans for him than she could possibly imagine. Perhaps she stroked his hair while he slept, looked into his eyes just a fraction longer than normal, stood in the doorway and watched him walk away; yearning to memorize the feel of his hair, his smell, the color of his eyes, because she knew he didn’t truly belong to her or this world. Not knowing when she might not be able to look into those eyes again.

On Maundy Thursday, we work our way from the last supper to the cross. As a mother of two boys, I hold Mary in my heart and wonder at her selfless devotion. I don’t know if I could have been as strong. Thankfully, God has enough strength for all of us, and we are not alone on this somber evening.

Whether we call it Maundy Thursday or the Thursday before Easter or Holy Week, this day and the days to come we are reminded that God gave us his best gift because he loves us. We are reminded that Christ walked this road not to condemn us but to save us (John 3:17). Thanks be to God.

Stephanie Clinton is a writer and blogger but more importantly, a wife and mother to two little boys. In her free time (if there is any) she can be found wiping snotty noses and volunteering in her community and school. Learn more about Stephanie along with her passion to encourage women and lighten their load at www.hugskissesandsnot.com.