Gathered at the Cross: The Women

This is part of our Lenten midweek sermon series that will examine those who were present at the crucifixion of Jesus.

Text: Luke 8:1-3; John 19:25-27; Mark 15:33-37, 40-41

In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

            In Jerusalem, in the Church of the Holy Sepulchre, the looming massive church built over the sites of Jesus’ death and resurrection, there’s a small shrine just to the left of the entrance. It has four columns connected by arches, covered by a cubical flat roof. Behind it is a mosaic depicting what happened at that site: the women who had followed Jesus through His earthly ministry stood and watched as their Lord was crucified. If you stand at the Station of the Holy Women, as it’s called, you can turn around and see the steep steps going up  to the top of Mount Calvary, also covered and enclosed within the large church. From there it’s easy to see how it was they could observe the final hours of Jesus’ life before He breathed His last. They were close enough to see the agonizing details, but at enough of a distance that they couldn’t interfere with the Roman executioners’ work.

            These women, numbered among Jesus’ disciples from those early days in Galilee, are known to us by name, thanks to the evangelists Mark, Luke, and John. These women included Jesus’ mother Mary; another Mary; and yet a third Mary, commonly known as Mary Magdalene, from whom Jesus had driven out seven demons; Salome, the mother of Jesus’ disciples James and John. Four women, four columns, standing in close proximity to the place where Jesus died for the salvation of the world.

            These women are remarkable because they were among the first witnesses of Jesus’ death, and later, His resurrection. Their roles become even more amazing when we realize the social status of women in the Roman world at that time. Women were not permitted to be legal witnesses in courts of law. In Israel, they were not able to inherit their husbands’ wealth and estates when they died. And yet, these four women courageously stay when eleven out of twelve of Jesus’ disciples had fled out of fear. They go and bear witness to others about what they had seen, even when the world said that they would not be heard. Yet they still stood guard and gave their eyewitness testimony to those who would write these most important words of the Scriptures. At the moment of Jesus’ death, they were among the tiny number of the faithful that made up His Church on earth.

            But it has always been thus with the Church. It has always consisted of those who are on the fringes of the world, those who are despised by the powerful in this age, those who are counted as weak or foolish or worthless or all of the above. If we look at the Lord’s people Israel in the Old Testament, it was not one of the mighty empires we learn about from our history textbooks. If we look at who it is that God instructs His people to honor, it’s not the powerful and impressive who can return favors; it’s the widow and the orphan who should be upheld and defended. If we look at who Jesus’ calls to be His Apostles, it’s not the movers and shakers from Caesar’s household or Herod’s palace; it’s fishermen and tax collectors, carpenters and shepherds and lepers—those on the fringes, those who have nothing in this world to hold to but this Savior who makes them His own treasured people. He draws them to Himself, heals them, protects them, and gives them a place. He gathers them to His cross and then He even dies to save them, showing them how much they matter to Him, how highly He values them, even if the rest of the world does not.

            So when we see these women standing before Jesus’ cross, it’s a picture of the Church on earth. It’s a picture of God’s people, especially during this season of Lent. The women, the Marys and Salome, were left with nothing else to cling to. They had no hope of earthly wealth and prestige. They had no hope of becoming empresses and queens to rule the dominions of the world. They had a Teacher, a Savior, who was dying for them. And still they cling to Him and Him alone as they were gathered at His cross. Still they hoped that He would deliver them, that He would fulfill all that had been promised about Him, all that He Himself had promised. Through faith they saw their crucified Lord.

            This is why we have been gathered for this holy season. We are called to behold our Savior, to see Him, crucified as He is, on the cross. We’re called to set aside the hope for worldly power and glory and look instead to what has been promised through this suffering Savior and all that His cross and death wins for us. All through this season of Lent we stand where the cross is in our line of sight, where it colors all that we say and do and think.

            This may be difficult at times. It certainly must have been difficult for the holy women gathered there. It must have been unthinkable agony for Mary, Jesus’ mother, as she watched her Son nailed to a cross, slandered, mocked as He was in His last hours of pain, as He died before her eyes. The prophecy given to her when He was only an infant in the temple by the aged Simeon, “A sword will pierce through your own soul,” was finally reaching its bitter fulfillment. And it will indeed be hard for us at times too. The death of Jesus, while it is our salvation, is no easy thing to process. Hearing the world degrade it, having talking heads with so-called worldly wisdom find explanations to devalue it, having to set aside our regular lives demanded by the outside world so that we can have a few quiet moments with our Lord at His cross this season—all of it is hard. It hits close to home. There may be days, or even weeks, this season of Lent when it feels like Jesus is far away, much further than the stone’s throw that His cross actually always is. It might simultaneously feel like the cross is too close for comfort and too far to help, just like the place where the women stood.

            But your Lord has called you to His cross. He’s made you His own, no matter what the world or your own sense of value tells you. He’s honored you and treasured you far more than you ever dreamed—He’s made you His co-heir, inheriting with Him His own kingdom and life, living forever because He has died for you. Come, behold your crucified Lord. Race to His empty tomb. Know that He has made you His own disciple, His own treasure, and that you will never be parted from Him or the redemption He has won. In the name of Jesus, the Crucified One. Amen.