It's a long and lonely road we've trod that's brought us here to this blood-soaked hill. A road of tears. A road of separation. A road of suffering. My son, I see your body on this cross - weak, defenceless, exposed, vulnerable - just like the baby I nursed so long ago, there in the muck and the hay.
You were mine, but not mine. Didn’t you say a long time ago that you “must be about your Father’s business”? There I was, and Joseph too, frantic with worry, searching Jerusalem for you. And where were you? Sitting amongst the teachers in the temple, calmly debating with them! No, you were not as other boys. You never were.
Now your eye, bloodshot, bleeding, a river of blood streaming, it turns to me and John, the disciple whom you loved. Your mouth, cracked and broken, speaks: ‘Woman, behold your son.’ John, my son? Are you not my son? But it’s as you said “My family are those who do my Father’s business?” Harsh, it seemed, yet not harsh as once I understood. So still I follow, as I’ve always followed, and I will do your business – to the bitter end.
Want to read more Cross Perspectives? :-
Cross perspective #1 – The perspective of a Pharisee
Cross Perspective #3 – The perspective of the Devil
Cross Perspective #4 – The perspective of the Centurion
Cross Perspective #5 – The Perspective of the Father
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