And a sword will pierce even your own soul. Luke 2:35a
Mary, when you watched your Son die
writhing – suffocating – gasping,
and grief like a sword pierced your soul
When His body was taken lifeless from the tree
did you have hope, really,
that He would live again?
When you, bearing spices, journeyed to the tomb,
a putrid smell,
a body stiff and cold?
When you pondered all these things
in your heart,
did you call the day Good?
When did you know, as the Mother of God might,
that your Son had broken into death’s domain,
with an explosion of uncreated light
Leading forth a train of captives
in His glorious assent
while all the angels sang?
Lord God, like Your servant Mary, Mother of the Son of God and Son of man, may we ponder afresh the significance of this Holy Day, neither forgetting the price paid for our redemption while yet rejoicing in the victorious triumph of our Savior over death. Like Mary, may we be willing to ponder all of Your Words to us in the Holy Scriptures, and believe.