To think it all began with a kiss.
The stunning news of Judas’ betrayal was swiftly followed by that of Peter’s denial. Still reeling from shock, Mary clung to hope that the Sanhedrin would restore order and sanity. But it was not to be. The shameful trial held under the cover of darkness ended with a trip to Pontius Pilate. Yet still, she hoped.
Mary followed as Jesus was paraded to Herod by Pilate’s order. She saw her Lord maintain his dignity despite the tyrant’s mockery. Though wavering, Mary remained hopeful as they trooped back to Pilate. She yelled with all her might when Pilate asked which prisoner to release. But someone in the crowd struck her down. “Give us Barabbas!” they cried. “Crucify Jesus!”
Finally, Mary’s hope gave way. Her heart cracked at her Master’s flogging. It broke altogether as he stumbled with the cross, bruised and bloodied beyond recognition. And when he was hoisted up on the crude wooden structure, forgiving another even as he strained to breathe, she wept with every fiber of her being.
“Why?” Mary wailed silently. Her master did not deserve to die. He was a good man. He had seen her when nobody else could or would. And now he would be no more.
As Mary wept, a heavy darkness descended upon the land. Jesus cried out with a loud voice, and the earth shook, splitting the rocks. Tombs broke open and the curtain of the temple tore in two from top to bottom. Then all was still.
In the silent darkness, Mary wondered. “What did it all mean?”
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