Here is the rest of Guardini’s Chapter 2, “The Mother.”
” Eighteen years of silence follow. Not a word in the sacred records, save that the boy “went down with them” and ” advanced” in wisdom, years and grace “before God. and men.” Eighteen years of silence passing through this heart – yet to the attentive ear, the silence of the gospels speaks powerfully. Deep, still eventfulness enveloped in the silent love of this holiest of mothers.
Then Jesus leaves his home to shoulder his mission. Still Mary is near him, at the wedding feast of Cana, for instance, with its last gesture of maternal direction and care. ( John 2: 1-11). Later, disturbed by wild rumors circulating in Nazareth, she leaves everything and goes to him, stands fearfully outside the door. (Mark 3:21 and 3: 31-35) And at the last she is with him, under the cross to the end (John 19:25)
From the first hour to the last, Jesus’ life is enfolded in the nearness of his mother. The strongest part of their relationship is her silence. Nevertheless if we accept the words Jesus speaks to her simply as they arise from each situation, it seems almost invariably as if a cleft gaped between him and her. Take the incident in the temple of Jerusalem. He was, after all, only a child when he stayed behind without a word, at a time when the city was overflowing with pilgrims of all nationalities, and when not only accidents but every kind of violence was to be expected. Surely they had a right to ask why he acted as he did. Yet his reply expresses only amazement. No wonder they failed to understand.
It is the same with the wedding feast at Cana in Galilee. He is seated at table with the wedding party, apparently poor people, who have’nt much to offer. They run out of wine, and everyone feels the growing embarrassment. Pleadingly, Mary turns to her son: “They have no wine.”
But he replies only: “What wouldst thou have me do, woman? My hour has not yet come.” In other words, I must wait for my hour; from minute to minute I must obey the voice of my Father – no other. Directly he does save the situation, but only because suddenly ( the unexpected, often instantaneous manner in which God’s commands are made known to the prophets may help us to grasp what happens here) his hour has come (John 2: 1-11). Another time Mary comes down from Galilee to see him: “Behold, thy mother and thy brethren are outside, seeking thee.” He answers: ” Who are my mother and my brethren? Whoever does the will of God , he is my brother and sister and mother.” (Mark 3:32-33) And though certainly he went out to her and received her with love, the words remain, and we feel the shock of his reply and sense something of the unspeakable remoteness in which he lived.
Even his reply to the words. “Blessed is the womb that bore thee,” sometimes interpreted as an expression of nearness could also mean distance: “Rather blessed are they who hear the word of God and keep it.”
Finally on Calvary, his mother under the cross, thirsting for a word, her heart crucified with him, he says with a glance at John: “Woman behold thy son.” And to John: ” Behold, thy mother.” (John 19: 26-27) Expression, certainly of a dying son’s solicitude for his mother’s future, yet her heart must have twinged. Once again she is directed away from him. Christ must face the fullness of his ultimate hour, huge, terrible, all demanding, alone: must fulfill from the reaches of extreme isolation, utterly alone with the load of sin that he has shouldered before the justice of God.
Note: final installment to follow
