The Passion of Jesus & Mary & Joseph

And of John the Baptist & Elizabeth

Narrator: I asked them of their hopes and dreams

Of how it seemed to them

On a road that led to Calvary

That began in Bethlehem

Mary answered first: "My hopes and dreams,

Every single part of me,

Awaited my Messiah,

With Him I longed to be."

Joseph looked at her and nodded:

"What you just said is true ...

But as for me, my hopes and dreams:

My every thought was you.

"At the time of our betrothal,

The fulfillment of my life

Was to take your hand in marriage,

To take you as my wife."

"I was first the handmaid of the Lord,"

SaidMary as she smiled,

"But what devastation you endured

When you found I was with child."

Joseph said: "My heart was broken;

How bitterly I wept;

Exhausted in my pain and grief,

How wearily I slept."

Mary smiled: "The angel in your dream

Your every doubt erased;

Then the baby leapt within my womb

When warmly we embraced !"

Joseph: Our road would wind, go up then down,

His way seemed hard to learn.

Mary: But angels came in Joseph's dreams

At every single turn.

Joseph: Like the time we went to Egypt

Where we stayed 'till Herod died.

Mary: Or when we came back to Israel

And you'd thought the angel'd lied.

Mary: (You see Herod's son took Herod's place

So, again, we'd have to flee).

Joseph: And warned, again, within a dream,

We left for Galilee.

Mary: So, too, on your road with Jesus,

You may find your plans and schemes

Will be readily displaced there

By our Father's hopes and dreams.

Joseph: There'll be times your heart is broken.

There'll be times your dreams are dashed,

When you dwell in desolation,

See no sun, just smoke and ash.

Mary: All will share His Passion and His Death

From the time of their conception;

Those who take life's road with us

Will share His Resurrection.

Mary: Our road began with theWord of God,

Where a witness, Elizabeth's son,

In a town in the hills of Judah,

Spoke of Jesus, the Chosen One.

Elizabeth: Little boys we carried in our wombs

Knew one another, even there !

And were destined, both, for early tombs,

Any mother's worst nightmare.

Mary: My son was killed by Pilate,

With indignity and disgrace.

Elizabeth: My John was brutally murdered,

Beheaded at Herod's place.

Narrator: I asked of Mary: "What of Pilate ?"

"What of Herod ?" of Elizabeth.

"Of the people who rejected them

Even in Nazareth ?"

They both were silent, for a while

Then each, in their own turn,

Spoke openly and lovingly

Of the lessons they had learned.

Mary: Like my Joseph, through King David's line,

Did my baby, Jesus, come

A Savior given unto us

Each and every one.

Elizabeth: Yes, adulterers and murderers

Like Herod (King David, too)

Were the reason that Our Lord was born

Mary: And also me and you.

Elizabeth: No it's not for us to understand.

It's not for us to see:

What of David ? Pilate ? Herod ?

Mary:What of them or you or me ?

Mary: Like the criminals murdered with Him

On His left and on His right

'Til one's dying breath He'll save you

Bathe you in Eternal Light.

Narrator: Elizabeth stood, took Mary's arms.

They embraced with loving tears.

Then as at The Visitation

John and Jesus then appeared !

I watched in silence and in awe

With love and peace and joy,

As with such warmth and tenderness

Each mother hugged her boy.

They were little kids like yours and mine !

With faces oh so fair !

Their mommies kissed their little heads

Ran fingers through their hair.

They pinched their cheeks, held little faces

In between each hand,

Looked proudly down into their eyes

Each mother's little man.

There they saw the face of God and lived

As the prophet said they'd see.

They all stared in little Jesus' face

Then turned and said to me:

All: We'll have all been there ten thousand years

Bright shining as the sun

Each generation's moms and dads

Each daughter and each son;

The loves we'll have shared continuing on,

The pains we'll have shared forgotten,

With the God we'll have known from ages hence

FromMary's womb begotten.

For nothing can quench the love of God

Not anguish nor distress

Persecution, famine nor the sword

Peril nor nakedness.

Neither death nor life nor angels

Not any principality

Could stifle the love of these mothers' boys

From here to Eternity.

I then said: "Lord, take and receive,

Take all of my liberty,

My memory and understanding,

Like The Baptist I want to be ...

For you'll increase as we decrease

In answer to our prayer

'Til it almost becomes a challenge here

To know who is standing there...

For I've entertained angels unaware

In your poor it's plain to see

Life's purpose is found as we get confused

'Tween them and you and me.

No the heart of man has not conceived

No eye could ever see

The things the Father has prepared

For The Baptist, you and me !

Narrator: What pains in life, dear Jesus,

Caused your greatest agony ?

What of the blood, the sweat, the tears

That blessed Gethsemane ?

Jesus: He heaved a sigh: "I'll tell you now,

The worst of pains, my brother,

Came from the swords that pierced the Heart

Of my dearest, sweetest Mother."

"The first sword ? In the temple,

Among the doctors of the law,

What a joy-filled, happy moment,

When my mother's face I saw !

Mary: Have you ever lost a child ?

Known the tears, the fear, the dread ?

Have you ever feared your little one

To be given up for dead ?

Jesus:Well, her look that day was haunting,

'T was a look of total loss.

I was to see it yet again

As I hung there on the Cross.

Narrator: What of the Chief Priests and the Elders

Or the Scribes and Pharisees ?

Of the ridicule you suffered there

As they tortured, spat and teased ?

Jesus: Jesus sighed again and said: "You know,

On my mother, that was tough;

It was watching her in agony

That, for me, was really rough."

As for Caiaphas and Annas,

The men with clubs and swords,

Those who called out: 'Play the Prophet !'

Or who mocked me with their words ...

I'd grown use to that in childhood,

Never really did fit in,

Not with neighbors, not with townsfolk

Not even with my kin.

You as parents are familiar

With these feelings from such pain

When your children don't fit in

With the others who are playin'

On the playground, in the school yard,

Out about the neighborhood.

How my mom and step-dad suffered

Cause they knew I never would.

Narrator: Jesus, what of the Sanhedrin

And the lying witnesses ?

Or the soldiers there who stripped you

Spat or hit you with their fists ?

When the crowd called out: "Barabbas !"

Scourged and crowned you with the thorns ?

What terror gripped your heart there ?

Were you 'specially then forlorn ?

Jesus: No, not the passers-by that jeered me

Or who gave me wine with gall

Nor the ones who drove the nails

Pierced my side, cast lots and all

Not even when they lifted me

Did it torture me the most;

It was that one last look in momma's eyes

That gave Daddy up my ghost.

Aside from the pain this caused my mom,

What still truly hurts the most

Are things that are done by the ones that I love

In whom dwell the Holy Ghost.

With sacraments of initiation received

Along with such loving formation

For the life of Me, brother, I don't understand why

They abandon theWay of salvation.

The Sanhedrin, the High Priests and Elders

Who hit me and spat in my face

Did not cause my Heart near the confusion

As those who abandoned the place

For after saying they'd never disown me

The moment the Shepherd was struck

The sheep of my flock were soon scattered

'Cause their Master was down on His Luck.

You, too, have seen transfigurations;

You know you have had your good days

But still like my beloved apostles

Don't you go your own separate ways ?

Like Zebedee's sons on the road there

Does your selfishness cause any fights ?

In your own ways you press one another

For seats on my left and my right.

No, I tell you I'd rather be spat at and jeered

Even scourged and then nailed to a cross

By the people who never have known me

As opposed to somebody I've lost

Like you whom I've known since your childhood

Baptized as an infant and then

Have countless times known me in Eucharist

Who's always considered my friend

Can't you see what you've done

To a world dire in need

Anytime when, like Peter, you fall ?

The scandal ensues

A soul 'bout to choose

Chance misses hearing my call.

Next time you pray into my Passion

And gaze up at your Friend on the Cross,

I'm not there cause of people I've never known

It's those, maybe you ? that I've lost.