_His Words to Mary_.
"_When Jesus therefore saw His mother, and the disciple standing by,
whom He loved, He saith unto His mother, Woman, behold thy son! Then
saith He to the disciple, Behold thy mother_!"
The position of Mary in those last hours was peculiarly grievous. She had
lived to see the breaking down of every hope that a mother's heart could
cherish for her son. Standing there amidst that mob of relentless enemies,
and watching Jesus, forsaken by God and man in His mortal agony, her
present sorrow, great as it was, was crowned by the memory of the holy and
happy anticipations of His birth, and the maiden exultations of her soul
when the angels foretold that her Son should be the Saviour of His people
and their King. How cruelly different the reality had turned out! How far,
how very far away, would seem to her the quiet days in Nazareth, the
rapture of her Son's first innocent embraces, and the evening communions
with Him as He grew in years! What tender memories the sight of those dear
bleeding feet, those outstretched, wounded hands, would recall to that
mother's heart! Yes, Mary on Calvary is to me a world-picture of desolate,
withering, and helpless grief--of pain increased by love, and of love
intensified by pain!
And Jesus in His great agony--the Man of Sorrows come at last to the
winepress that His heart might be broken in treading it alone; come to the
hour of His travail; come to the supreme agony of the sin-offering; face
to face with the wrath of the Judge, blackness and tempest and anguish
blotting out for the moment even the face of the Father--forsaken at
last--FORSAKEN--Jesus, in this depth of midnight darkness sees her
standing by the cross. Bless Him, Oh, ye that weep and mourn in this
vale of tears! Bless Him for ever! His eyes are eyes for the sorrowful.
_He sees them_. He has tears to shed with them. He is touched with the
same feelings and moved by the same griefs. He sees Mary, and speaks to
her, and in a word gives her to John, and John to her, for mutual care
and love. It was as though He said, "Mother, you bare Me; you watched and
suffered for Me, and in this redeeming agony of My love, I remember your
anguish, and I take you for ever under My care, and I name you Mine."
Surely, there never was sorrow like unto His sorrow, and yet in its
darkest crisis He has eyes and heart for this one other's sorrow. Far from
Him, as the east from the west, is any of that selfish thought and selfish
seclusion which grief and pain so often work in the unsanctified heart,
aye, and in the best of us. What a lesson of practical love it is! What a
message--especially to those who are called to suffer with Him for the
souls of men--comes streaming from those words spoken to Mary. The burden
of the people's needs, the care of the Church, the awful responsibility of
ministering to souls--these things, sacred as they may be, cannot excuse
us in neglecting the hungry hearts of our own flesh and blood, or in
forgetting the claims of those of our own household.
Dear friend and comrade, in _your_ sorrow, in your sore trial of
faith, in _your_ Calvary, take to your heart this revelation of the
heart of the Son of Man, and be careful of the solitary and heart-bleeding
ones near you, no matter how humble and how unworthy they may seem.