On our third day, we toured St Peter's Basilica. I hadn't done a lot of research for that trip so I was caught off guard by the sudden appearance before my eyes of Michelangelo's Pieta. I recognized it instantly in spite of my ignorance. There was quite a crowd in front of it, but I pushed my way to the rail and stood, utterly captivated, entranced for several minutes. The next day we came back, and again the magic of that serene, pure white monument to the deep peace of complete faith, even in the face of tragedy, captured me entirely.
I'm sure you all have, as I had, seen this work of art in magazine and newspaper photographs, in travel blogs, on documentaries over the years. But let me assure you that none of those can capture the emotion of seeing it up close and in person. Michelangelo has broken with previous tradition and represents Mary as a young mother with her adult son, crucified, lifeless (for the moment) in her arms. But her gaze is not full of anguish-- she is not grieving, merely solemn. She does not clutch her son's body in despair, but rather her hand is outstretched, open, ready to receive. The expression on her face is one of peace, surrender, trust.
Our guide pointed out that experts have surmised that Michelangelo intended to portray not necessarily the middle-aged Mary, actually holding her dead son; but rather the young mother gazing at her infant son, yet perceiving what must come-- the vision of a second sight personified in marble.
When he said that I felt an instant connection with that concept. Aren't we all like Mary in those moments when our children are young, safe, loved, protected in our arms? Who has not looked down at their sleeping infant, in a moment suddenly burdened with the realization that in that precious bundle is contained a whole life, a future that needs must contain much sorrow, struggle, and grief?
May we respond to that realization with the humble faith of Mary of the Pieta-- hiding all these things in our hearts, in faith that the God we follow shapes their future. May we hold our children with outstretched, expectant hands; trusting His will for their lives.
