The Piercing Sword

By: Robert L. Withers

“And Simeon blessed them and said to Mary His mother, “Behold, this Child is appointed for the fall and rise of many in Israel, and for a sign to be opposed— and a sword will pierce even your own soul—to the end that thoughts from many hearts may be revealed.” (Luke 2:34 - 35).

A sword into my soul?

What might this mean?

The fall and rise of many?

How might this come?

A sign to be opposed?

My baby boy, oh why?

Marvelous have these months been,

These strange and wondering months.

Gabriel, who had appeared to Daniel,

Invading the quiet of my day,

“Hail, richly blessed! The Lord is with you.”

He tells me not to fear, but now this from Simeon.

My dear husband Joseph,

O how he was perplexed,

What a quandary he was in.

I trusted him.

God trusted him.

He trusted God, he trusted me.

My cousin Elizabeth exclaiming,

“Blessed are you among women,

And blessed is the fruit of your womb!”

I had not written her. No one had told her.

Yet she knew, yet she proclaimed.

My soul and heart were large then, they were whole.

But now, “A sword will pierce my soul.”

How? Why? When?

The shepherds, humble and kind and gentle.

Beholding a Lamb like no other.

Those strange and mysterious and generous men from the East.

They bowed before my son.

Then the warning to my husband,

“Flee, flee right now. Go to Egypt, rush,

Take the child and his mother, Herod comes to destroy him.”

Destroy my child? Moses was saved from mass slaughter,

But why single out my baby boy?

Was this what Simeon meant, that my soul would be pierced?

That time when we could not find him.

I thought, “Is this what Simeon means?”

Have we lost my boy, my Jesus?

How could we have lost sight of him?

We found him in the Temple, speaking with the rabbis and priests.

So strange, so very strange - I thought my heart would break in the search.

Then the tranquil years, peace in our town and land.

How I delighted in seeing him grow in favor with God and others.

What a joy to have him around, to see him with Joseph,

To see him with all in our town.

So thoughtful, so considerate. And O how he loved me,

How so very good and kind he was to me.

Then that day came, when he said he was going

To see that strange man John the Baptizer,

To the Jordan he was going. It was not like him

To chase after the novel, to run after the popular.

Yet I knew in his eyes and his voice that he was not running,

He was not hastening, there was something else within him.

As I watched him walk down the dusty road away from our home

I was reminded of two things in my heart, in the recesses of my mind.

At first I could not clearly envision them, it was as if the skies

Were changing from bright and blue to clouds bearing a storm.

Then I knew, coming up from the depths of my soul,

Tremors were shaking me, foreboding was enveloping me.

There was I again in the Temple with Joseph and Jesus.

Jesus was saying, “Do you not know that I must be about

My Father’s business?

Then in the Temple again, bringing our baby to dedicate,

“And a sword will pierce even your own soul.”

Is God taking my son whom we dedicated?

Could this be it? The piercing? The work of the sword?

That which was given to me I gave back in dedication.

Now I watch my boy, for my “boy” he shall always be,

Walk away to seek that strange man John,

Elizabeth’s child now grown, our sons’ paths now meet.

What strange thing is this? O my soul! O my soul!

That Sabbath back in Nazareth, when my Son stood before

The congregation, “The Spirit of the LORD is upon me.”

How angry they became, they wanted to kill my boy,

How frightened I was, and yet, and yet, peaceful at the same time.

I saw that He was at peace, I saw Him unafraid.

I recalled Gabriel’s words, “Fear not...Mary.”

How many times during the next few years

Did my heart and soul almost break?

I knew many meant Him harm, and yet when I saw

His love and compassion for others, His kindness,

His tears, His healing, His sorrow for others,

Surely, I thought, God will preserve Him.

And through all these years, from boyhood until now,

O how He has always loved and cared for me.

Even when I have not understood at times His words and ways,

He has been tender to me, caring for me, gentle with me.

He is now a Man, O but what a Man.

Yes, a Man, but also my son, my boy.

Terror! Terror! Betrayed by Judas.

His flesh lacerated! His brow bleeding from a crown of thorns.

Mockery! Drenched with spit! Hatred in the air!

Murder in their hearts! The crowd, the mob!

What of the palms? What of the hosannas?

No! No! I cannot bear to hear it! “Crucify Him!” they are shouting.

I follow with my friends, with Mary Magdalene and others.

They hold my hand and lead me, an arm around my waist

Supports me, I cannot see through my tears,

I cannot speak through my sobs.

My body is convulsed with sorrow.

I am in shock, I tremble, I tremble, one foot in front of the other.

O such cruelty inflicted on the One who loved as no other.

The hammer striking the nails - O that sound!

The jolt of the cross striking the earth.

My boy’s body shaken. He looks at me, He looks at John;

“Woman, behold your son! Behold, your mother!”

Darkness descends, it is night as the light of my life is snuffed out.

Darkness yes, but I am His mother. I hear Him.

My heart sees Him. He is there, night or no night.

He is my boy. But what is happening? Terror!

I sense terror. I sense something not of this world transpiring.

O my boy, my son - I am hear my son. I love you my son!

Take me! Let Him go - take me...O please take me, take me, take me.

Mary Magdalene holds me on one side, John holds me on the other.

They wash me with their tears. We hold each other.

A cry, a piercing cry! “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?”

And I cry within, “My God, My God, why have you forsaken us?”

And as the light chases the darkness my beloved boy cries again,

“It is finished. Father, into Your hands I commit my spirit.”

Gabriel, you told me not to fear, that God was with me.

Elizabeth, you told me that I was blessed among women.

Shepherds, you told me that my boy meant great joy for all people.

Strange men from the East, you called my boy a king and worshipped Him.

Anna, you gave thanks for my Son in the Temple.

Simeon, Simeon, where are you now?

What did you say Simeon? What did you say to me?

That my soul would be pierced with a sword?

O Simeon, my soul is not pierced,

How could you be so wrong, why not tell me all Simeon?

My soul is not pierced, O no Simeon, it is not pierced,

My heart, my soul, my life...I am broken, shattered.

O MY BOY! MY SON! MY JESUS!