John K. Jenkins Sr - A Son's Care for Momma

The scene at Calvary was far from beautiful. Jesus hung on the cross, most of His disciples scattered, Peter having denied Him. He had been brutally beaten with a whip — one embedded with metal and bone fragments. A crown of thorns pressed into His head, blood streaming down His face. He had been publicly humiliated. The same crowd that just a week before had shouted «Hosanna!» now cried «Crucify Him!»

He had been kept awake all night, arrested, and marched from Caiaphas the high priest through the Sanhedrin Court to Pontius Pilate, then to King Herod, and back to Pilate again. He who knew no sin became sin for us. The pressure of the moment was so intense that, as Scripture tells us, instead of sweat, blood seeped from His pores. Nails pierced His hands and feet while soldiers at the cross’s base gambled for His clothes.

At the foot of this devastating scene stood four women: His mother; His aunt Mary, the wife of Clopas; Mary Magdalene, from whom He had cast out seven demons; and the disciple He loved, John. Everyone else had fled — only John remained faithful among the disciples.

Where were they all? Where were the ten lepers He had healed? Those whose blind eyes He had opened? Those whose deaf ears He had unstopped? Where was the family whose dead daughter He had restored to life? Where was the paralyzed man who had been lowered through a roof, whom Jesus healed with just a word? All those He had healed — nowhere to be found.

Yes, Calvary reveals a harsh truth: people will surround you when you’re popular and wealthy. You might not want to admit it, but when someone has fame and fortune, people flock to their corner. Yet the moment either disappears, those same people vanish without a trace.

The drama of this scene paralyzes me. The crowds that once followed Jesus had dispersed. Those He healed were gone. Even the disciples, in whom He had invested three years of His life, had fled — all except John. Even Jesus’s earthly father, Joseph, was absent, though this was likely because he had died sometime after Jesus’s encounter in the temple as a boy.

But there stood Mary, His mother, demonstrating true maternal love. When everyone else abandoned Him, when He went from being celebrated to condemned, she remained. She believed in Him when no one else did — isn’t that just like a mother? She believes in her child when everyone else has given up hope.

What’s particularly moving is that even in His agony, Jesus saw His mother. Think about that — while enduring excruciating pain, dehydration, and the weight of the world’s sin, He still noticed her presence. He still cared about her welfare. And in those final moments, He ensured she would be cared for, entrusting her to John’s protection.

This teaches us something profound about family responsibility and love. Even in His darkest hour, Jesus fulfilled His duty as a son. He made sure His mother would be provided for after His death. This stands in stark contrast to our modern culture, where we often neglect our parents once we’ve «outgrown» them.

The scene at Calvary reminds us that true love — whether it’s a mother’s love for her child or a child’s love for their parent — persists through all circumstances. It doesn’t fade when times get tough. It doesn’t disappear when popularity wanes. It stands firm, just as Mary stood at the foot of that cross, unwavering in her love and faith.