Who Would You Pray With?

Imagine you are one of Jesus's many disciples in the Jerusalem Upper Room, some forty days after Jesus had been crucified, died and was buried. You saw all that. But since then, it's been reported that he came back to life, and has appeared to a number of people, including the Apostles. But he has not appeared to you. You don't know what to believe. So, you're hanging out, praying day and night, and sacred to death.

A few days earlier out near Bethany, the Apostles reported that while they were with Jesus he suddenly rose into the sky and disappeared into heaven. But you didn't see it, and so here you are with the 120...left alone...or so it would seem.

During that time, Peter said they needed to choose a successor for Judas, who had turned out to be a traitor and had killed himself. After some prayer the Apostles drew lots and Mathias was added to the eleven.

But there was, it seemed to you, a lot of uneasiness, confusion, and definitely wonderment about what to do next. Indeed, the disciples appeared to lack motivation. Perhaps they were waiting for what Jesus called the Comforter to come, whatever that was. And so, they were unsure, and so were you, about what would happen next.  (cf. John 16:12).

Imagine you’re there. You’ve found a corner in which to sit, pray and sleep. But you’re a little frightened. The horrific, bloody crucifixion of Jesus is still etched into your mind’s eye, even if you did keep your distance. At least twice a day now you walk past the bloodstained corner where the soldiers forced a man to help Jesus carry the cross. Jesus had been too weak to carry it. You never saw Simeon before that day, but now he’s in the room with the others, a few men gather around him talking quietly. 

You look across the room at a lady who forced her way past the guards and wiped Jesus’s face with her veil. She clutches it, still bloody, in her lap. Around her women gather, they finger the cloth as if it was sacred.

You’re alone. No friends or relatives of yours would come near this band of zealots and fanatics. Why you’re here, you’re not sure. But you’re drawn. Who can you talk to? Who can pray with you? Whom do you trust?

Then it occurs to you that there is one person in that room you have wanted to talk to above all others. Of everyone there, you realize there is one person that knew Jesus the best, and whose faith in what might or might not happen next is the most serene. Of course, you had seen the miracles, the healings especially were amazing. But this person, for decades, had seen and remembered far more than all the rest of the disciples combined. Here was a bastion of faith and grace that probably knew no bounds. But getting past the crowd would be a task, especially for one as shy as you.

You keep looking for a chance. You need someone to put an arm around you and pray for you. You need a smile. You long for hope.

Little by little you find your way to the far end of the room, where many are gathered. You push your way past Peter’s large frame, and peek past his cloak. The quiet face looks at you and smiles, beckoning you forward. You pull your cloak close, and sit on the floor at her feet. Speechless at first, you gather your courage and say:

Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with you. Blessed art thou among women. And blessed is the fruit of your womb, Jesus. Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for me... now, and at the hour of my death. O Blessed Mother, pray for me.