Perhaps but that observation does not take anything away from the fact that Mary, his mother, would have suffered grievously .
Being familiar with these Gospel accounts, as a mother my heart breaks to imagine what Mary would have felt watching her child go through that. The effect it has on me is to make me want to round up all my kids right now and hug them and tell them how much I love them, and always will.
You are a bigger person than I will ever be. However, your claim is that God does shrug his shoulders. I disagree.
I know I’m not.
I shared here once the agonizing death my best friend in the world went through in a wreck. She died over several hours, and it’s unimaginable to think of the pain she was in, the terror she was in of feeling her life ebb away and unable to do anything about it, the unspeakable loneliness of dying in agony, on her own.
Someone responded that Jesus was with her, she didn’t die alone, and depending on certain conditions being met, there’s every chance she could be enjoying eternal bliss now in heaven, and her suffering, and the suffering of her family in the aftermath, is as but nothing compared to that bliss.
I had tears in my eyes reading that. I have tears in my eyes now writing this. There is not a single day has passed over these years, that I don’t think about her, the joy we had together, the unbreakable bond we shared, and then I always see her dying alone, calling for her mom, call for me - and we weren’t there, and we could do nothing.
It’s very beautiful, and poetic, to think Jesus was with her, that she somehow knew and felt this, that she some how could feel comforted over the several hours it took her to die because Jesus was with her, and at the moment of death, He took her with Him to heaven.
I love this image. I love this picture. It puts right all the things that haunt me, and will continue to haunt me until I die, about my best friends death.
I can see in my mind Jesus sitting with her, talking to her, holding her, comforting her, saying all the right things, telling her the agony will soon be over, and she will be with him in Heaven for all Eternity.
I can see Jesus doing this, because it’s what I should have been able to do. It’s where I should have been, there for her, when she needed me more than at any time in her life. I should have been holding her, kissing her, comforting her, telling her I’m going to fix it, telling her I’m going to make everything ok, telling her to just ‘‘relax and enjoy it’’ (can’t explain now but it’s something we used to say to each other all the time then burst out laughing, usually when either of us was about to face something horrible, or difficult or do something we were really dreading, and based on something else that was quite naughty!) and I’d put everything right and make everything ok.
But here, Jesus is just covering for the fact I wasn’t, and couldn’t be there for her.
If Jesus was there, my question is why did You let her die? Why did You sit and comfort her, sit and kiss her and hold her, and not save her life, when You could have? Why did You decide the most beautiful, kind, loving, caring, funny, naughty, mischievous, tolerant, charitable, adorable, wonderful young woman You’ve ever created should die, rather than be saved? You could have saved her in a heartbeat, but You didn’t. You took my best friend away from me. We should have shared our lives for the next 60 or 70 years, and grown old together. You took that away from me, when You could have prevented it and You owe me an explanation. You didn’t need to prevent the wreck, although you could have, but you could have prevented her dying, and You didn’t. Why? Explain to me how You could do that, and still expect me to call You loving, or caring, or Fatherly.(Her family have been devastated and still are to this day. I’m not excluding them in this, nor do I think our relationship was more important than that of her family - for this conversation I’m only focusing on the aspect of our friendship - her death devastated all who knew her and we’re all still grieving years later)
But you see, there’s no comfort in that image of Jesus with her. There’s just more hurt, and confusion, and unanswered questions, and then, if one believes in God, one has to defend why God chose to let such a beautiful person die, why God decided to call her ‘‘home’’, and yet leaves the serial murderer and rapist alive, to kill and rape again and again and again.
I understand it for what it was. A tragic accident. And a monumental loss to all who knew her.
No purpose or design in it. No God to blame, or take comfort in. No hope in an eternal life I see no evidence for.
Life goes on. And we continue to do the best we can, for ourselves and all those around us.
And we hope to die a peaceful death in old age, having done as much good, and as little harm, over those 90 or so years.
The very act of living on a dying planet ensures there will be tragic consequences at times for us. Our humanity, to me, isn’t defined by our ability to ‘‘offer it up’’, or seek comfort in some celestial Being, but rather by what we do to help and support, comfort and care, nourish and encourage and motivate and love each other.
Looking to some supernatural Being dehumanizes the human existence, in my opinion. It’s like, I’m human, but only for a short time, then I’ll be a spirit in heaven forever and ever. My humanity is a bit of an inconvenience, getting in the way of my real existence.
I think looking to each other and our animal brothers and sisters strengthens and affirms the human bond, and our bond with all of nature, from the highest order animals, to the bacteria in the soil.
I think I might have gone off on a bit of a ramble in this post. It happens when I think about my friend. Sorry.
Sarah x
