Mary sees her risen son. I see my mom.

There is a fascinating meditation in the Spiritual Exercises of Saint Ignatius:  Imagine what it would be like if Jesus appeared to his mother after his resurrection. (#299) Though not recorded in scripture, it seems fitting that Mary would have been one of the people graced by the Lord’s resurrection appearances.  This exercise took me in a surprising direction.

As with all the Ignatian exercises, I imagined the scene. Mary was working in a garden surrounded by a rock wall.  There was an open gate.  It was early morning.  The sun was rising through the gate.   I felt the breeze and the sun’s warmth on my skin, smelled the fresh morning air, and heard the little scratching noises Mary was making tilling the ground. 

Jesus came walking from a distance toward the gate, dazzling in appearance with the rising sun behind him. Mary sensed his presence.  She looked toward the gate.  Though his face was in shadow, Mary recognized him immediately.  They ran to each other and embraced.  Her contact with the Lord filled her with peace and washed away the horrific memories of the crucifixion.  She never doubted, but the hug was affirming, like the Lord said, “Thank you for being so faithful.” 

Then the imaginative meditation took a healing twist.  I looked back at the gate.  I saw another figure, silhouetted by the glorious sun.  It was my mother.  She entered the garden scene, too.  

She died when I was eighteen.  I’ve lived with some regrets for the rest of my life.  Instead of guilt, at that moment I felt the same as Mary, awash in the healing and affirming love of the Lord.  The regrets evaporated.  I was swimming in consolations. 

In that moment, one poignant memory came to the surface. I was a young boy.  I was home sick from school (probably playing hooky).  I lay in her king-sized bed while she taught me how to play cribbage.  It was a time of joy and innocence.  I felt treasured, her beloved son. 

The Lord came to Mary. My mom came to me.  Both through the same gate of glory.  Mary received affirmation and peace, enveloped in the light of love.  I received the same. 

From the image, I recall what Saint Paul said, “The sufferings of this present time are not worth comparing with the glory about to be revealed to us.” (Rom 8:18)  With a little imaginative contemplation, I received a glimpse of this ‘glory about to be revealed’, coupled with a little healing for my own suffering.

May the Lord make his healing presence known to you throughout this Easter season.