The Passion of Christ
By Kim Roberts
Each season as I journey through Lent, I am reminded of the year my son played Jesus in his middle school passion play. From the moment he first saw the play at school, he told me, “Mom, when I’m in seventh grade, I am going to be Jesus in the play.”
He set his mind to it, and that was it. Even though he is 24 years old now, it feels like yesterday I was watching him carry the cross down the church aisle to the altar. I thought I might get emotional during the play, so I sat by myself in the pew. My daughter and her friend were in the choir loft filming, and my husband sat with my mom.
As I watched him enter the church with the disciples, who were his actual best friends, my heart swelled with pride and anticipation. And, I thought at that moment, I wonder how Mary as Jesus’ mom felt during this time. She knew Jesus’ fate, knew that he was the savior of the world, she knew what had to happen, but she was still a mom at the end of the day who loved her son and that he had to die.
I watched my son “get nailed” to the cross, and tears streamed down my face without my realizing it. I again thought Mary lived through this in real life, and how gut wrenching that must have been.
Then, as my son was carried to the cardboard tomb for burial and his friends accidentally dropped him, the audience giggled, I did not. I was still very in the moment. I was feeling every moment of this little, middle school passion play like it was the first time I was hearing the story of the passion of Christ. It has stayed with me to this day.
Every time I watch a movie, attend a retreat, or read a Bible verse during Lent, I’m brought back to the emotions I felt the day of the play and think of Mary and how thankful I am to her son for giving his life for me.