If Mary had been present at the Passover meal Jesus shared with his disciples, maybe these would have been some of her thoughts:
I am both bewildered and mesmerized by Jesus in this moment. I see him so clearly as a man, a friend, a skilled wood worker, and as my son. But tonight, like many nights before, and like the night he was born, there is more. So much more. There is an unmistakeable “otherness” about him. It makes all who are around him yearn for God’s presence. It even makes us feel that God is certainly as close as the sound of Jesus’ voice.
And now, he is tearing bread apart and saying things like “this is my body”, which sounds strange—and yet it makes so much sense even though I can’t explain it. He has held up a cup of wine and shared that “this is my blood”, which is even stranger. Yet, I find a pulse of life in those words, and an enveloping peace that assures me I will understand the God-infused mysteries of my eldest child very soon.
It is a knowledge I have carried, but not fully known for his entire life. As I receive my passover bread and wine, I say a prayer, asking Yahweh to help me hold this moment and remember it, no matter what.