For many years, before I had children, I helped provide music
for an outdoor passion play. My part was a solo piece from the vantage point of Mary,
the mother of Jesus.
As I sang, on the other side of a lake, the character that played Mary knelt at the foot
of the cross.
A more recent performance of "His Last Days." |
Often, emotion threatened to derail the song for me, and though
I fought to control my feelings as I watched the scene unfold in the distance,
I was always able to make it through the piece. Today, with children of my own,
I have an even deeper understanding of what Mary might have gone through and
what questions she must have had. I’m not sure that now, I’d be able to sing
the song at all.
Having the experience of something helps us have greater
empathy.
I’m so glad we have a Savior who has our experience. He walked
around in skin that was subject to sunburn, wore sandals that rubbed blisters, knew
how much it hurt to lose someone he loved, felt betrayal, and faced the power of sin’s lure as
Satan himself attempted to corrupt him.
Eugene Peterson beautifully translates Paul’s words in Hebrews 4:14-16:
"Now that we know what we
have—Jesus, this great High Priest with ready access to God—let’s not let it
slip through our fingers. We don’t have a priest who is out of touch with our
reality. He’s been through weakness and testing, experienced it all—all but the
sin. So let’s walk right up to him and get what he is so ready to give. Take
the mercy, accept the help.”
So if you wonder if anyone knows, Jesus is
in “touch with our reality” no matter the circumstances. He’s faced our
temptations, suffered our indignities, and known our grief. Whatever you’re
facing, He knows. Been there. Done that.
On
this Thursday of Holy Week, let’s “take the mercy, accept the help” he offers
us.
Because of this, maybe I would be able to
sing Mary's song after all.