Being a disciple of Jesus had to have been hard. Taking leave from your work, moving unpredictably around the countryside. Fearing the authorities, both Jewish and Roman, and being challenged to think about God, humanity, and your role in the world in a whole different way.

As if that wasn’t bad enough, Jesus’ life takes such center stage that generations of Jesus’ followers comment on your actions, questions, and decisions for the rest of history. The critique of the disciples came pretty fast. The first gospel writer, the writer of Mark, was the hardest on the disciples. He portrays them as not having a clue, ever. To the readers, Jesus’ role and words are painfully obvious, but yet the disciples misunderstand, fail to comprehend, and are brought to task by Jesus regularly. The writers of Matthew and Luke, who write a little later, portray the disciples in a more positive light. The writer of the gospel of John . . . well, John writes his gospel to the beat of a different drummer. John rarely sees things from the same perspective of the other writers, and he often doesn’t even tell of the same events. Once we get to the last few days of Jesus’ life, though, all four writers begin to tell the same story. Albeit, from their different lenses. As we look at our Lenten theme, A View from the Cross, we have pulled from all of the gospel accounts of the people in Jesus’ view from the cross. For today’s view, the Mary’s we have to turn to the gospel of John. Matthew, Mark and Luke all agree on one thing about Jesus’ followers at this point. They aren’t there. There are the women, but they are off at a distance. As Jesus is on the cross, it is only the gospel of John who gives us some followers standing there at the foot of the cross for Jesus to see.
All of the gospels refer to 12 disciples. It’s an important link to our Jewish heritage, and a reference to the 12 tribes of Israel. The 3 gospel writers all provide us with a list of the twelve, but John uses the term “disciple” more loosely than the others. He refers to disciples regularly, but he only names Andrew, Philip, Nathanael, Judas, Thomas, and another Judas. At one point, in John, a controversial thing happens, and many disciples turn back. Jesus asks the 12 if they are staying, and they respond positively.

John does an interesting thing with names in his gospel. There are unnamed people, like the Samaritan woman at the well, the man made well at the pools near the Sheep Gate, and the woman caught in adultery. Then he has people with names, and he describes how they came to be related to the story. Andrew, one of the disciples, is Simon Peter’s brother. Philip, another disciple, is from Bethsaida, the city of Andrew and Peter. Lazarus is from Bethany, the village of Mary and her sister, Martha. In a couple more of sentences, the writer also lets us know that Mary and Martha are the sisters of Lazarus.

And then there are people just referred to, as if they need no introduction. The readers of the gospel, it is assumed, know exactly who these people are. The beloved disciple (whose name is never revealed), Mary (the one who is sister to Lazarus and Martha), Simon Peter, Judas Iscariot.

The people at the foot of the cross, in Jesus’ view, fall into these categories. There is Jesus’ mother. (Interestingly, she is never called by name in this gospel.) Then there is her sister. No name. Unless she is Mary, the wife of Clopas. There seems to be a fair amount of disagreement about whether these are two people or one, but we’ll not try to resolve that today. And then there is Mary Magdalene. Mary Magdalene appears for the first time in this gospel at this point. Let me just say right here that Mary Magdalene is not a prostitute, not a woman with a demon, she is just Mary Magdalene. And, given the way John refers to people, a woman well-known by his readers. And, by inference, there is the beloved disciple.

So, why are these people here? There are standing at the foot of the cross, but there isn’t anything they can do. They don’t console Jesus, in fact, Jesus consoles them by putting his mother and his beloved disciple in the care of one another. They are standing there at great risk, associating themselves with a rebel leader who has been crucified for his activity. And the suffering must have been horrible to watch. And yet, they are there.
I have a friend who is involved in a covenanted small group. The group meets regularly to share their lives, read scripture, and pray. After meeting for awhile, they covenanted together to pray for the hungry of the world. At one of their meetings a few months after this, one of the members said that she wanted to change their covenant. She said that she was trying to be more positive – to think positive thoughts and to approach the universe with a positive attitude so that she would get positive energy back. She was finding that praying for the hungry did not fit with her positive attitude. It was depressing, and she was afraid that it was interfering with her positive vibes. Would the group be willing to change their covenant and not pray for the hungry?

One of the things that I take from this view of the cross that John paints for us is that as followers of Jesus, we are called to be part of a community. And, as followers of Jesus, we are called to care for one another. Jesus models it be entrusting his mother and the beloved disciple to the care of one another, and the people at the cross model by standing by Jesus in his suffering, even though they cannot change it. It’s hard to stand in the suffering with one another, but it’s part of our call. And in the midst of all that, somehow, healing occurs. Not necessarily the kind of healing that results in Jesus coming down from the cross, but the kind of healing that allows that early community continue on together after Jesus’ death, meeting, sharing, praying, and creating the basis for the Christian church. And it’s the kind of healing that acknowledges Jesus’ death, but also recognizes the mystery of Jesus’ resurrection.

e pray for the hungry, even when it’s depressing. We stand by the cross, even when it seems useless. And in the midst of it, God stands with us.

e are called to be disciples, to be followers of Jesus. As we look out at all of humanity, may we look with the eyes of Jesus, but may we also look with the eyes of those who stood at his cross. May we be willing to stand with one another in our joys AND our sorrows, in our triumphs AND our suffering. And may our presence bring with it Christ’s healing.

Amen.