We’ve been on this journey, The Way of Jesus. We’ve followed the artwork on the walls, the stations of the cross. We’ve followed these crosses as they have gradually grown more upright. On both Sundays and Wednesdays, we’ve been walking with Jesus. This is our tenth stop. On Sunday we talked about Jesus crucified between two criminals. Tonight we hear some of Jesus’ very last words as he hangs on the cross.

Reading: John 19:25-28

This isn’t rocket science, but the older I get, the more I have to look back on. And I’m finding it important now to in some way “mark” the times where God has shown up and met me in significant ways. Sometimes, oftentimes in fact, these are tied to geography. To a Place. So a manhole cover on Highland Drive, a dock by a lake, a car sitting outside a camp retreat, the top of a mountain, a sidewalk on 48 th in Minneapolis, a country cemetery in Idaho.

It doesn’t mean I’ve been hit by a lightning bolt or heard an audible voice every time, but these places have been important. And when I’ve gone back to visit them, they still seem important, and the memories flood back to me. I think it’s important to have these tangible, touchable, visible places to look back and recall an encounter with God.

I’ve always enjoyed the story of the stones by the river. You know, the Old Testament story from the book of Joshua. The people of Israel, after 40 years of wandering around the desert, are prepared to take the city of Jericho. And when they started to cross the Jordan River, the water from upstream simply stopped. The people all walked across on dry ground.

And when they were safely on the other side, Joshua had one man from each of the twelve tribes go back into the dry river, and take up a large stone and carry it to the other side. There they stacked the twelve stones up, and Joshua told them “Now, in the future when your children ask “What do these stones mean?,” tell them “ Israel crossed the Jordan on dry ground. The Lord your God did this.” The stones were a memorial. A memory-jogger.

Can you imagine the conversations, a father and his daughter, a mother with her young son saying “Look at this marker, it reminds us- God provided for us.” We need these markers. We need reminders. We need to recall, especially when times are hard and God may seem a long way off…the times when God was near.

Remember the Psalm we read? David, who always seemed to be in trouble one way or another, said

“When I said “My foot is slipping,
your steadfast love, O Lord, held me up.”

David is calling to mind a time, or some times, that God showed up.

This mother of Jesus, Mary…what do you think she felt at this moment? Her adult son is dying in front of her, beaten, bleeding, thirsty, mocked, shamefully displayed in front of the whole world. And she could do absolutely nothing about it. Nothing.

I have a friend who is now in her 90’s. She has outlived two of her adult children. On many occasions, she has said to me “Dan, I wish it would have been me. I wish it was me who died, and they who lived.” My friend isn’t alone. I think many parents have been there, I think many mothers (and fathers) would wish the same thing.

But we don’t get that chance. Mary doesn’t get it either. She had been told 30 years previous….did the words still ring in her ears? “This child is destined for the falling and rising of many in Israel, and to be a sign that will be opposed, so that the inner thoughts of many will be revealed- AND A SWORD WILL PIERCE YOUR OWN SOUL TOO.” Now it’s happening. A spear will soon pierce Jesus’ side, but a sword is piercing his mother’s very soul right now.

Mary’s foot is, perhaps, slipping. Badly. Will God’s steadfast love be enough to hold her up? Is there enough of God in her past to hold her into the future? We don’t even know that much about Mary.

• God had met her in a miracle birth, and her cousin Elizabeth.
• she heard Simeon’s prophecy in the temple over the baby Jesus.
• God had saved their family from Herod’s wrath and taken them to Egypt, warning them in a dream.
• Mary was at the wedding in Cana when Jesus turned water into wine.
• since she would gather with the early church in Acts, it’s reasonable to think she may have witnessed other parts of his life and ministry as well.

Were there enough reminders, inside and outside of Mary, to keep her close to God when the pain was great and it felt like her feet were slipping? Were there enough stones stacked up to point to and remember- see how God has met me in the past? He will meet me again now. And tomorrow.

And the question is not only for the present moment, though certainly her pierced soul was crying out. But would the past enable her to trust God for the future? Was there even going to be a future?

It is an amazing thing to me, that at that time and place, Jesus hanging very close to death, he might look down from the cross. His eyes roam over anyone within sight. The same eyes that looked at 4000 hungry people and said “let’s feed them.” The same eyes that wept over the death of his friend Lazarus and said “let’s raise him.” The same eyes that had seen betrayal, and human suffering of all kinds are now filled with pain as he dies generally for all people but more specifically for every person and we see that as he looks at exactly two people and speaks to each of them:

• to his mother- “woman, see, your son.”

With these words Jesus provides for his mother’s future. Not a safety net, not Medicaid, not an endowment but a son to replace the one she is losing at that moment. In the painfulness of the present, Jesus does not miss providing for her future.

• to his friend, John, the beloved disciple, “Here is your mother.”

He gives to John responsibility, which will require that grieving John not disappear, not despair when Jesus leaves. He has someone to care for. But he also gives him a relationship. Knowing he leaves him with a gaping hole in his life, he also provides a friend, a mother to fill part of it.

Jesus provides for their future, which means they have a future. It is a great love that looks also ahead. Certainly by the very fact that he is dying on the cross he is providing the door to salvation and the future of eternity but it is not only a future in heaven Jesus is concerned about…but about the future like tomorrow. When they will wake up as the sun comes up and wish it were a bad dream that their beloved is gone. When their breakfast tastes like wood, and they drag themselves out into the air the next day, Jesus provides for that future. He gives them to each other. Woman, behold your son. Here is your mother. In case their feet are slipping, the steadfast love of the Lord is holding them up.

Mary and John both have history with Jesus. Their stones are stacked up. They can say that “God met me through him in this place, and that place and that way.” So maybe, just maybe I can trust that he is here with me now even though I don’t feel Him. And maybe, just maybe I will be able to hope in the promise of a future.

Jesus in their life. Jesus there on the cross. Jesus providing for their future. Jesus Christ, the same yesterday, today and forever. (Heb 13:8)

We may have many reminders, many stones stacked that recall when God provided. And yet we also wonder, doubt, question…which is part of faith. Can God do it again? Can I really trust him?

We have one great pile of stones that far outweighs the others. It’s the cross. And when we wonder if God can hold us, if God would hold us, if there is solid ground to dig into. We look at the cross. There, God says Yes. There on the cross Jesus looks at each one of us, specifically, and says “Yes. Yes. Yes.”

Tonight, before we close, let me just ask you to sit quietly for a few moments with two questions: “Can I trust God for my future? Do I trust God for my future?”