MEDITATION: MARY
It was still quite warm after a hot humid day.
But suddenly a cool evening breeze came gliding across the Mediterranean. It ran up the hill and into the house where Mary was sitting.
She was all alone.
She began to look into the wine glass on the table in front of her.
Slowly she began to meditate, looking deeper and deeper into the wine glass of her life.
Slowly she turned the glass around and around cupping it in her hands. She began to see moments of her life. Like movie flashbacks they played on the surface of the wine. There she was a young woman running like a deer into the hill country to visit her cousin Elizabeth. She had to share the good news, both pregnant, both alive with life.
Her smile changed to serenity as the scene changed. There she was, three months later, walking home after having seen the birth of a baby: John the Baptist.
Next it was her turn, six months later in Bethlehem. It was the experience of her life: the glow of becoming a mother, the mother of Jesus, the filling of her womb, the filling of her breasts. Then came the Christmas moment: the arrival of the dancer, the kicker, the fruit of her womb. Joy to the world, the Lord had come: a crying, rubbery, laughing, baby boy.
Then the growing boy -- from childhood to manhood. To change the scenes, she shook the wine, seeing him as she watched him grow through the years, never being able to erase the words of Simeon in the temple: “A sword shall pierce your heart!” He was right. She felt all those sorrows: the rejections, the betrayal by Judas, the arrest, his closest friends running away, the denials by Peter, the beatings, the cursing, the spit, yes, spit, and finally the journey to Calvary to die on the cross.
She closed her eyes in pain. “He had quite a life, this son of mine.”
She paused. Silence ....
Then she slowly began to hear and concentrate on the other words of Simeon: “This child is also destined for the rise of many!”
She rose. Standing up she smiled and lifted her wine glass, her chalice, in a toast to God. Then she took the last sip of wine. “Yes,” she said to herself, “the best wine till last. All these years since his resurrection, so many have changed, so many have risen to new life, a better life because of him.”
But suddenly a cool evening breeze came gliding across the Mediterranean. It ran up the hill and into the house where Mary was sitting.
She was all alone.
She began to look into the wine glass on the table in front of her.
Slowly she began to meditate, looking deeper and deeper into the wine glass of her life.
Slowly she turned the glass around and around cupping it in her hands. She began to see moments of her life. Like movie flashbacks they played on the surface of the wine. There she was a young woman running like a deer into the hill country to visit her cousin Elizabeth. She had to share the good news, both pregnant, both alive with life.
Her smile changed to serenity as the scene changed. There she was, three months later, walking home after having seen the birth of a baby: John the Baptist.
Next it was her turn, six months later in Bethlehem. It was the experience of her life: the glow of becoming a mother, the mother of Jesus, the filling of her womb, the filling of her breasts. Then came the Christmas moment: the arrival of the dancer, the kicker, the fruit of her womb. Joy to the world, the Lord had come: a crying, rubbery, laughing, baby boy.
Then the growing boy -- from childhood to manhood. To change the scenes, she shook the wine, seeing him as she watched him grow through the years, never being able to erase the words of Simeon in the temple: “A sword shall pierce your heart!” He was right. She felt all those sorrows: the rejections, the betrayal by Judas, the arrest, his closest friends running away, the denials by Peter, the beatings, the cursing, the spit, yes, spit, and finally the journey to Calvary to die on the cross.
She closed her eyes in pain. “He had quite a life, this son of mine.”
She paused. Silence ....
Then she slowly began to hear and concentrate on the other words of Simeon: “This child is also destined for the rise of many!”
She rose. Standing up she smiled and lifted her wine glass, her chalice, in a toast to God. Then she took the last sip of wine. “Yes,” she said to herself, “the best wine till last. All these years since his resurrection, so many have changed, so many have risen to new life, a better life because of him.”
And as she headed for bed, she could hear herself saying, “Amen! Come Lord Jesus!”
And the cool breeze continued throughout the night.”
And the cool breeze continued throughout the night.”
*
© Andrew Costello
Liguorian Magazine