Notre Dame, Our Lady, Our Mother,
you stand high above your ancient city,
and you stand weeping.
You see what we do not see,
You understand what we have yet to understand,
And, in your tears….streaming, the stories of the uncounted are borne.
You who knows what it is to bear in your self,
that untimely sacrifice of self-giving,
You who saw your own flesh, nailed
to the cross – bone of your bone,
flesh of your flesh, your own bleeding wrenching heart held up to his.
Innocent, helpless, mocked.
Crowds who held the place of masses,
As judge, jury and executioner – godless in the face of your pain and the sounds of his wailing.
You wept, and you weep.
You weep as any loving, living, feeling mother should.
You weep with those who bear the news that their child and children have drawn their latest and last breath –
in rows, at tables, at work, on pavements….coldly, heartlessly, without reason nor motive nor emotion.
And, in your tears, you tell us of your hearts deepest longing desire…that Love must have its place again. In our lives, in our world, in our language.
That you will weeep, until every life is equal,
because your Son made known the fact that every single life is of worth, of importance, of value.
So you will weep. For us, for all, for ever.
Until the life of every Palestinian is worth as much as the life of an Israeli.
Until the life of every Black American is worth as much as a Caucasian.
Until the life of every Syrian is worth as much as a Parisian…until the scales of God’s economy are used in this age, you will weep.
You show us that the pain of loss can never equal to a loss of pain.
That every life in God’s eyes is worth exactly the same. .
That every one of us on earth are worthy of a name, a place, a life…a God-given dignity.
You weep for those who never live until they die, and who die before they’ve lived.
And you ask us, simply, urgently – yet full of burning urgent pregnant grace.
“Hear the words of my precious Son, your Saviour:”
~ Love your neighbour as yourself ~