Listen to Jesus Tell His Mother Mary To Take Care of You from the Circle of His Love
By Father John Slampak, STL

Close your eyes and then, with your right foot, draw an imaginary circle in front of yourself.

Now, place your left foot in the circle, and then, take your left foot out.

Put it back in, and shake it all about.

Do you know what it’s all about?

Are you willing to put your whole self in the circle of God’s love and be shaken all about? God’s circle of love surrounds you through the cross of His son.

In Germany there is a church which has an unusual crucifix, a bronze figure of Christ hanging on a cross. He has torn away his left hand from the nail, he has broken the leather thongs which tied his wrists to the wood. His body is straining toward the earth, his arm reaching downward, his hand reaching out, obviously to those below, to anyone who would take it ... as though he were saying, “I forgive you. ... I love you. ... I want to touch you. ... I want to reconcile you to my Father. ... I want you to follow me.  ... I want you to tell the world about God’s love, a love which is so merciful that it will not let anyone go.”

Maybe you have stood under that cross. Maybe you didn’t know Jesus was reaching out to you.

Jesus washed feet to show us that while it is good to stand on your own two feet, you cannot stand on your feet, away from him, away from others.

For Peter, it was easy to stand near Jesus at the Last Supper. But when it was time to stand next to him on the cross, Peter and almost everyone ran and hid. They didn’t know the strength and power Jesus was giving them from his cross so they could stand on their own two feet. But, next to him.

Actually, in the circle of his love.

Place yourself beside the cross of Christ, in the circle of his love. Listen to Jesus tell his mother, Mary, to take care of you.

Even as she grieved the death of her own dear son, she was told not to think of herself, but to be a good mother for us all.

Accept Mary’s love for you and ask her for the courage she had on that first Good Friday afternoon and pray; “Blessed Mary, the love of Jesus overwhelms me. I cannot take it all in. Let me think about just one part of his passion — the moment when he told you to look after us. I used to wonder, why didn’t Jesus let you grieve for a while?

“Why didn’t he allow you to curl up in some corner, by yourself, so you could sigh and moan?

 “Why did he tell you to be concerned about the disciples over and above the concerns of your own sorrow? I think I know.

“Jesus gave you this task because the disciples would rely on you to give them the courage and patience that would see them through those long hours until Easter finally came.

“Please, mother of sorrows, let me hear Jesus speak to me in the same way he spoke to you. No matter how wicked my world is, don’t ever let me go off by myself and quit on life, or get so downcast that I don’t care about anything or anybody.

“Help me Mary, to continue with your spirit of trust and patience so that I may notice the needs of others and be worthy of the circle of love from your son’s cross, his Good Friday love, for me.”