The Third Word: “Woman, Behold Your Son”

The Crucifixion with the Virgin and Saint John the Evangelist Mourning, Rogier van der Weyden, 1460. Oil on panel, 71 x 73 in.. Philadelphia Museum of Art, Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. Public Domain.

Descent of Christ from the Cross, Rogier van der Weyden , c. 1435–40. Oil on panel, 220 x 262 cm. Museo Nacional del Prado, Madrid, Spain. Public Domain.

Descent of Christ from the Cross (Detail), Rogier van der Weyden , c. 1435–40. Oil on panel, 220 x 262 cm. Museo Nacional del Prado, Madrid, Spain. Public Domain.

“III: Cum Vidisset Ergo Jesus Matrem” from The Seven Last Words of Christ. Composed by Richard Burchard. Performed by The Southern Chorale and The Southern Mississippi Symphony Orchestra.

Week Four: The Third Word: “Woman, Behold Your Son”

Then Jesus said to His disciples, “If anyone desires to come after Me, let him deny himself, and take up his cross, and follow Me” (Matthew 16:24-26 NKJV). Christ’s words are certainly true of His mother, Mary. At the Annunciation, Mary readily agreed to participate in God’s redemptive plan, and throughout her life, she faithfully stood by her beloved son. It’s hard to imagine being chosen to bear the Savior of the world. What sort of woman must have Mary been? At the presentation and blessing of the infant Christ in the temple, the prophet Simeon offered Mary a portent that she carried with her throughout her life: “Behold, this Child is destined for the fall and rising of many in Israel, and for a sign which will be spoken against (yes, a sword will pierce through your own soul also), that the thoughts of many hearts may be revealed” (Luke 2:34–35).

This week’s “Word of Affection” finds Mary at the foot of the cross, realizing that Simeon’s prediction is being fulfilled before her very eyes. As Christ laid down His life for her that day at Calvary, she in return bore her cross for Him to the very end, becoming a humble model for all future Christians. They say nothing is more wrenching than for a parent to have to experience the suffering and death of a child. Mary’s lamentation has proven to be a solace for millions who have identified in some way with her deep grief. Pastor Brian Zahnd writes, “From Mary we learn that sorrow is unavoidable, and that mourning is a work that is both necessary and holy.”

In Christ’s first word from the cross, He revealed amazing love for those who persecuted, tortured, and murdered Him. In the second word, He showed His mercy and grace to a condemned offender. In this third word, He demonstrated His tenderness and deep concern for the well-being of His mother. Scripture teaches the importance of family ties and the necessity of caring for those who have nurtured and cared for us. As much as is humanly possible, maintaining loving relationships with brothers and sisters, husbands and wives, parents and children is the desired goal for those in the household of faith. There is no more powerful witness to a watching world than a healthy Christian family. There is no mission more significant than actively loving and praying for family members. It’s noteworthy that in His final hours on the cross, as He bore the awful weight of the world’s sin, Jesus initiated a new familial union. “Woman, behold your son!” “Son, behold your mother!” (John 19:26-27) Theologians tell us that with this divine directive, the church was born on Good Friday. Certainly there must have been a close relative who could have taken Mary in. But Christ seemed to indicate with His third word that spiritual relationships somehow superseded blood ties in the Christian family He was forming. Anglican Cardinal Basil Hume writes, “John represented us all at that moment—that is, those who would, as a result of the Lord’s death, share in his risen life. Mary was Mother, now of the whole church, as it was coming to birth while [Christ’s] life was ending.” Although Cardinal Hume’s assessment is correct, Christ’s own words confirm an unexpectedly different paradigm: “Whoever does the will of my Father in heaven is My brother and sister and mother’” (Matthew 12:50).

Poetry:

“When Giving is All We Have”
by Alberto Ríos

One river gives

Its journey to the next.

We give because someone gave to us.
We give because nobody gave to us.

We give because giving has changed us.
We give because giving could have changed us.

We have been better for it,
We have been wounded by it—

Giving has many faces: It is loud and quiet,
Big, though small, diamond in wood-nails.

Its story is old, the plot worn and the pages too,
But we read this book, anyway, over and again:

Giving is, first and every time, hand to hand,
Mine to yours, yours to mine.

You gave me blue and I gave you yellow.
Together we are simple green. You gave me

What you did not have, and I gave you
What I had to give—together, we made

Something greater from the difference.

WOMAN, BEHOLD YOUR SON

Female voices cry out in waves of grief and discord in Richard Burchard’s “III: Cum Vidisset Ergo Jesus Matrem.” We hear Mary’s agony when the prophet Simeon’s words come to pass, “And a sword will pierce your very soul.” (Luke 2:35) Male voices join to provide the support structure underpinning the women in their song of lament. Perhaps it is here Jesus’ third word is given. A gift of love, provision, and community all in these few words: “Woman, behold your son!” “Son, behold your mother!” As the work unfolds, the masculine and feminine roles weave and finally merge into a union of consolation with pain expressed and grief shared. In the alchemy of great art, we begin to comprehend that grief can transcend, it can be both holy and ultimately beautiful.

Today, our works of music, poetry, and art speak to the individual’s loss as well as the shared longing unique to the body of Christ. We have two Passion works for contemplation by the Netherlandish artist Rogier van der Weyden. Van der Weyden presents two tableau vivants, with different perspectives. Both are visually arresting and contain elements of realism with the sculptural physicality of the figures, and even more so because they occupy a space abstracted from nature.

In the first work,The Crucifixion with the Virgin and Saint John the Evangelist Mourning, we see the water-stained wall and the three figures starkly presented before the vivid red draped cloths that honor their suffering and sacrifice. In a break with reality, the scene is lit from an unnatural light source as the Father’s wrath is expressed through darkness: “It was now about noon, and darkness came over the whole land until three, because the sun's light failed.” (Luke 23:44)

In Descent of Christ from the Cross, the landscape is replaced with a gold background and the cross is cropped and angled in an unrealistic presentation. As a slight of hand, these backgrounds and shallow depth of field serve to dramatically push the figures towards us, the viewer. This indicates not just the reality but the magnitude of these events.

In the first work, Adam’s skull stares directly at us by the cross in this second garden of God. We have a choice to make. Death is inevitable for us all, but what death will we die? In the second work, Descent of Christ, Adam’s skull is now turned towards Mary who looks as though she was the one who had died. Her hands are almost touching both the first Adam and the Second Adam. Mary made her choice at the Annunciation: “I am the Lord’s servant,” she said. (Luke 1:38)

The Crucifixion is two panels yet is presented as one image with Mary’s dress bridging the divide between the two. In the first panel, Mary collapses backwards into John’s arms, their bodies angled to create a sense of turbulence through the lack of symmetry and balance in contrast to Jesus’s central and straight figure.

“When Jesus therefore saw His mother, He said “Woman.” ‘Woman’ was a respectful term, but Jesus most likely called her ‘mother’ when He addressed her. Yet, John’s gospel recounts the one other time He addresses her so. It was three years prior and on another third day event with the wedding at Cana in John 2:1-4. Her son says to her “Woman, why do you involve me?” “My hour has not yet come.” At this new Eve’s urging, Jesus performed His first public miracle by turning water into wine. “[It] was the first of the signs through which he revealed his glory; and his disciples believed in him.” (Jn 2:11) Now, from the cross as His own blood is poured out for the sins of the world, the Son of Man’s time has now come (Gen. 3:15). We see his white loincloth floating in a windless, static scene. It is the only indication of movement, the heartbeat after Jesus prays to the Father, “Into your hands I commit my Spirit.”

In Descent of Christ, Mary unconsciously mirrors Christ as he’s lowered and held by His followers. Mary’s suffering and sacrifice embodies the scripture in 1 Cor. 11:1, “Be imitators of me as I am of Christ.” Indeed, Van der Weyden is calling to mind the writings ofThe Imitation of Christ by Thomas a Kempis. In their own way, each figure has chosen to follow Jesus to the cross. This is a new family portrait where those who have drawn near to Christ in His suffering now grieve together. (Matt. 12:48-50) In the darkest hours, we have a consolation given by God Himself that we have an unbreakable fellowship which remains long after all suffering has passed.

Prayer:
Heavenly Father, we confess that left to our own desires, we are the many who love Your heavenly kingdom but often refuse to bear His cross. We are the many who desire Jesus’s consolation yet want to avoid trials. We want to share at His table and avoid fasting. Wretched, we confess that we desire to be happy without suffering anything for You. Today, we accept that we are to be imitators of Christ, both in his life and in His death if we are to be set free from the darkness of our hearts. In Jesus’s Mighty Name, let it be the most important thing that we do then to reflect the life of Jesus Christ.”
­­­­­from The Imitation of Christ by Thomas a Kempis

Alexandra Jean Davison, M.Div., M.Litt.
Artist
Director for Culture Care with
Artists in Christian Testimony International (A.C.T. Intl.)