At Mass on Sunday we sang the spiritual “Were you There?” It got me thinking.
How we long to have been with Jesus during His passion, death, and resurrection. How we would have loved to stand and support His mother at the foot of the Cross, to wipe His face with Veronica, to pray with Him in the Garden of Gethsemane. (Yes, I know that was in reverse order.)
Serendipitously, we sang this song at Communion time. And I suddenly realized that I was there!
I was there when people received Him casually. I was there when they mocked and despised Him. I was there when they closed their ears to the Gospel. I was there when they yelled, “Crucify Him!” And some of the time, I was the culprit.
When I received the Eucharist, I was with Him on Calvary. I kissed His beaten back. I helped Him carry His Cross. I pricked my finger on His crown of thorns. I heard Him say, “Behold, your mother.”
I was there when they crucified my Lord. This Holy Week, I was there.