The Women at the Cross

In the case of the women at the cross, their worst nightmare had become their reality. Their beloved Jesus hung before them, seemingly helpless and clearly in pain. Most of the men had fled out of fear of arrest, imprisonment, or even a death sentence of their own, but not these women; they remained, despite the Romans’ willingness to crucify women too. They were in close enough proximity that Jesus was able to address his mother and instruct her on who would take care of her (John 19:26). Although they had nothing to gain and no way to stop the proverbial and physical bleeding, they stayed. Despite the danger to themselves and their inability to help, they would not leave Jesus’s side. In their rabbi’s agony, they remained actively present.

Each woman had witnessed the kindness, compassion, and grace of Jesus. They were no stranger to his miracles or might, but in the dark of that day their hopes faded along with the life of the man on that wooden cross. I can’t imagine anyone would have judged them for leaving his side, but that wasn’t who they were. Before they were women of the resurrection, they were women unafraid of standing with Jesus in his darkest hour at Golgotha. Although Sunday morning was around the corner, Friday first took a heavy toll. The women at the cross weren’t afraid of remaining present, of feeling every sorrow-laden emotion, as Jesus suffered and died.

We serve as the proxy for divine comfort and care when we remain actively present in a cruel world overcome by harm and loss. The late theologian Wilbert Shenk once wrote,“We are not free to choose or reject a theology of presence. Presence as incarnation is fundamental to all witness.”* Our embodied presence may be the only Jesus others encounter, and our life in Christ blossoms as we root ourselves in the here and now, being vulnerable alongside others.

As the women at the cross remained actively present, may we remain present to those precious to us in times of tragedy. May we recognize, as the apostle Paul did, that to live is Christ (Phil. 1:21). And I pray that those who we encounter meet the kind, compassionate, and caring Christ within us. May we humanize and honor the personhood of another while recognizing how near and actively present the Divine is to us.

*Cited in Augsburger, “Silence, Patience, Presence.”

Tiffany Bluhm, The Women We’ve Been Waiting For, Brazos Press, a division of Baker Publishing Group, September 24, 2024. Used by permission.