Reflections from Pisa – Mary
Writing and journaling have many benefits. One is I can recall the tiniest details around something I am writing…even years later. This piece was written in a McDonalds in Pisa on April 26, 2013 after seeing all the churches with the scenes of the burial of Jesus.
Yes…I was eating at a McDonalds in Pisa. As humorous as it sounds I was craving some fries and a Big Mac.
I had spent the day admiring the Leaning Tower, the chapel and the baptistry of Pisa. There isn’t much to Pisa so by the afternoon I had seen everything. So I journeyed away from the touristy area and snuck into McDonalds.
I had always wanted to go to Italy since my sophomore year of college when I took an art history class. I wish I could paint, but I can’t. But I love to look at art.
I backpacked alone with my two suitcases. I started in Venice and got lost in the mazing streets that twisted beside the beautiful canals. I stepped into many churches and sat in the pews and reflected on all the history that was surrounding me.
Then I traveled on to Florence and fell in love with the beauty of the renaissance. I walked though many museums and admired the classics first hand.
I then stopped at Pisa to witness the renown leaning tower.
Since I was alone I had plenty of time to reflect. One of the things that hit me was their love of Mary. I had always known the story of the Virgin Mary giving birth to Jesus. I knew the surface biblical story.
But walking through the churches in Italy woke me to the human Mary. The Mary that stood at Calvary and watched her son being crucified. The Mary that held her dead son in the desolate tomb. The Mary that left the tomb in anguish, leaving her son behind the stone.
I had always pictured Mary as the woman who God chose. But I had somehow missed the part that Jesus was her son. Just as any mother would fall apart if their child died before them, Mary witnessed the horrific death of her first born.
So, I pulled out my iPad and started writing these words. They are not the best. I don’t think I ever put these words to music. But I think this may have been the beginning of my expedition for my upcoming book, The Untold Story of the Darkest Days, which will be out in the coming weeks. It was in this McDonalds in Pisa where I started to see the brokenness and hopelessness that Jesus’ followers must have felt the moment he breathed his last on the cross. It was at that moment I feel they too breathed their last breathe of hope.
So I quickly typed this recalling the various paintings and sculptures thinking how Mary felt.
RISE – Mary’s Perspective
If I had only known
And if he wasn’t already grown
I would have forbidden him to go
If I can go back in time
Whisk him away to another life
A new place to live in hindsight
But God there was something special about him
Words cannot express the miracles that were around him
He opened eyes, strengthened legs, and raised the dead
Why didn’t he do the same when we laid him to rest?
I waited for him to rise
I waited for him to rise
But now I walk to his grave
Like I have the past two days
And I will everyday
I will rise and fall like the sun
Tears will well up for the dawn
I’ll mourn from now on
But God didn’t you tell me he would rule the nations?
But now that he’s gone I look like a fool to my relations
But I believed it was you, I believed it was true
Now I’m left with a doubt that time will not undo
I believed he could rise
I believed he could rise
What is this?
Where has he gone?
Whose taken him,
Whose taken my son?
What is this?
He arose like the dawn?
Where is he?
Where is my son?
I’ve been longing for you to rise
I’ve been longing for you to rise
My son, my lord, my Christ
May we try and imagine how Mary felt. May we imagine how we would have felt too.
Peace
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