“Meanwhile, standing near the
cross of Jesus were his mother, and his mother’s sister, Mary the wife of
Clopas, and Mary Magdalene.” John 19.25b
Anyone
who has attended a Good Friday service at the First Presbyterian Church over
the past five years has probably noticed a piece of art.
It is the one with the Marys.
It is a
black and white picture. Everyone is wearing black except for one of the Marys.
It’s probably the mother of Jesus, but I like to think it is the Magdalene. What
is so striking is that this figure is in white, and the artist has shown her
overcome with grief and nearly collapsing. The pain she holds in her body is
noticeable and unbearable. I daresay, when you look at it long enough, you feel
her pain and torment in your body and soul, too. Off in the distance.. off to
the right… is Golgotha, “the Place of the Skull.” The crosses are empty. The
sky is transitioning—from light to dark. The agony, the pain, and the trauma
experienced that day is palpable.
If I’m
honest, the artist’s depiction of this scene following Christ’s crucifixion
isn’t why I bought the artwork. In fact, why I did has very little to do with
the depiction at all.
Look
closely.
Closer.
Closer
still.
You’ll
see there is a crack in the glass. It cuts across the Mary wearing white. It
cuts right across her heart, even. This blemish is why the artwork was 75% off.
The store where I purchased it had placed under a sign that read, “Damaged.”
Sure, if
there wasn’t a crack, I would have likely appreciated the artwork but kept on
walking. But it was this crack in the glass that captured my gaze, and right there, in the
middle of the store, I wept. This stunning piece of art that was once good
enough for some hefty price was reduced and declared bad because of a crack.
Good
Friday. The day Love was executed for doing just that… loving.
Good
Friday. The day the Marys wept, and the day we weep at the many cracks in our
lives.
Good
Friday. The day—as Frederick Buechner puts it—that is anything but good.
Today is the day the people who know God
through Christ have permission to give ourselves over to the sadness and the
many tragedies in this world… and in our lives. Today is the day we can
selfishly and selflessly name what grieves us. Today is the day we can name
those moments when we ask, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?”
Today is the day we can acknowledge our
humanness, because in the crucifixion of the Christ we can name the humanness
of the Divine.
Don’t get me wrong, I know resurrection is
coming. I know Mary Magdalene will be the first apostle and will bring the
confusing good news to the men who denied and wandered away from Jesus in the
hours he needed them most. But, I also know that in order for the good news to
be good, we have to name the bad, weep with the bad, and sit with the bad…
… and perhaps, like the Mary in white… have the
bad place its scar right over our hearts so that on the third day, we might see
what resurrection, restoration, and redemption to our Spirit-beloved and
God-created values shall be.
