I have been to Rome, the Eternal City, twice.

The first time was during a business trip, and I was able to take my wife – we were fairly recently married – and we had an amazing time there. I vividly remember standing in front of the Pieta in St. Peter’s Basilica, the depiction of Mary holding her son just after he had been taken down from the cross. I was struck by Michelangelo’s masterpiece, its size, its significance, and the artist’s skillful rendering of an incredible moment.

But then I went back a few decades later and stood in that same spot, this time with two of my now young adult children. And this time, I saw it differently. Very differently.

Way back during my first trip to Rome, I had already walked through my share of peaks and valleys… but I was young and still untarnished by the bumps and bruises of life. 

A near quarter of a century later… I stared at the artwork and saw something else. I saw it from the perspective of a parent. I noticed Mary’s pain. I saw it in her downcast eyes.

The sculpture clearly showed that Jesus’ suffering had ended, but Mary’s had not.

And I understood.

I understood that because of Mary’s great love for her child, she would have traded places with him. It is only that kind of love that could make a person feel this way. It is the willingness to take the cross of someone else and to relieve them of it completely by taking it onto yourself. That is what true love will do.

And that is precisely what Jesus did… for you and me. 

During that second time in Rome, I finally understood the cross because I saw it in and through Mary’s eyes.

Today, on Good Friday, let’s reflect on Christ’s great love for us. He chose to trade places with us.

Consider that Mary also walked up that hill to Calvary, carrying the weight of a cross that would not have been noticed by others, but which was every bit as treacherous as the one that was seen.

Consider that Mary’s side was pierced straight through, as was her son’s. That she too was alone, abandoned, and experienced this suffering in a way that only a mother could. 

On that day in Rome, I finally understood the cross.

Now, I am not at all saying you need to be a parent to see through Mary’s eyes. But I am saying that it helps to see the cross through the eyes of love…

… because when we love, we open ourselves up to great joy. But we also open ourselves up to that which Michelangelo’s marble sculpture depicts and which is shown so powerfully in Mary’s eyes. In Mary’s downcast eyes.

On Good Friday, we remember the Passion of Christ. We should also remember the Passion of his mom. 

The first time I want to Rome, I approached the cross as the great symbol of our faith, as the triumph of good over evil, as an event unequalled in all of human history.

And I was… impressed.

The second time, I came to the cross and saw it through the eyes of Mary… and through the eyes of love.

And I was… changed.