What would it be like to see your child praised, betrayed, and crucified? Today’s reflection invites us to creatively engage the Word by considering Christ’s Passion from Mary’s perspective.

April 13, 2025: Palm Sunday of the Lord’s Passion, Year C
Procession with Palms: Luke 19:28–40
Isaiah 50:4–7
Psalm 22:8–9, 17–20, 23–24
Philippians 2:6–11
Luke 22:14–23:56

Mary, Did You Know?

A reflection by delfín bautista

I invite each of us to reflect on the Palm Sunday readings through the witness of Mary, the mother of Jesus. She is not named in any of the passages, but I believe she was very much present. The musings below are a stream of consciousness (or queerousness) from her perspective—as a mother, woman, parent, apostle, prophet, and activist. They are best read alongside Luke’s Passion narrative:

Why is Jesus sending disciples to find a donkey? Riding a donkey brought about major changes in our lives as we fled violence and persecution; it led to the birth of hope, the Divine becoming enfleshed. What will this bring?

They are welcoming my son… but why are they welcoming him? What are they expecting him to do? The king that they are blessing is my baby boy!

I risked shame, exile, rejection to live out my vocation as a parent—here I am, still full of grace.

Morning after morning, I opened my ears and heart to his cries, hurts, teenage angst, confusions, and celebrations. The abandonment he is experiencing is not new to me, for I, too, felt abandoned at times. Where was God when I risked being stoned for infidelity? Where was God during the sleepless, colic-filled nights, constant diaper changes, night nursing, when bills needed to be paid, when bullies pounced on him… where was God through it all? Ah, Joseph. Joseph, my beloved, was there. My God, my God, you never abandoned us.

I am not equal to God—but I am just as much Jesus’ parent as God is. I emptied myself, risked my life, and followed my vocation through doubts and fear. I was and am exalted as his mother. I co-created and co-enfleshed the Divine… he will always be my child, no matter how many followers he has, or however many palm fronds are placed in his path.

I didn’t embrace this life because it would be easy, or to be praised or venerated. I transubstantiated the Divine into this world, and I continue to transubtantiate the Word in my ongoing witness, living into and living out his teachings. We are all full of grace… we just need to be reminded of Emmanuel—God is WITH us and God is WITHIN us and God is among us, now and always.

A shared meal—God’s presence experienced in the food, in each person, in the conversation, in laughter, in remembering and re-membering the stories of our people in community. How will this ritual remind folks to nourish themselves, especially as they find prophetic ways to nourish others in challenging systems of oppression? Will this ritual remind them of their common union—their communion—of each of us being equally blessed as they continue what Jesus is starting?  

Who is at this table and meal, who is missing? There seems to be tension and uneasiness; what is happening… what will happen?    

Betray my son!? How could anyone do such a thing?

As a mother, I want to cradle and protect all of these followers, who are like children to me—not just my child.  

What is happening? Didn’t they just sing and proclaim his praises? Now they abandon him, reject him, want to crucify him! Why… oh why is this happening? Why, God, why?! Where are you… our child, our baby, is being broken, bruised, bloodied! Why all of this pain? It is unbearable… I cannot leave, I will not leave. I will be with him through every painful moment, as I have and will always be. This cannot be the end. This cannot be the end.

An addition for Easter Sunday:

Thank you, my child. I knew and held in my heart as I did so many years ago, that your story, our story, would not end with violence, but would spark resurrection and wholeness. Go, continue to share your message and remind them the story is not yet over. We are a people of resurrection, filled with grace! May it be done to us and through us, according to Your word. Amen!

mx. delfin w. bautista, MSW, MDiv. (they/elle/delfin) is a native of Miami, FL, is of Cuban and Salvadoran heritage, and currently serves as the Director for the Lionel Cantu Queer Resource Center at UC-Santa Cruz. A social worker and activist theologian, delfin is passionate about intersectional justice and resilience, especially around the experiences of queer people of color. delfin currently serves on the board of directors for enfleshed.

‍