JERUSALEM—Archaeologists have uncovered ancient scrolls near the Dead Sea that shed light on Mother Mary’s secret longing for a daughter, only to have her hopes dashed by divine insistence that the Savior had to be male—apparently because women weren’t deemed worthy of being subjected to a horrific, bloody crucifixion.
“This discovery is truly fascinating,” said Dr. Leah Abrams, lead archaeologist on the project. “The scrolls reveal a side of Mother Mary we’ve never seen before: a woman deeply disappointed, not because her son would one day be tortured and nailed to a cross, but because the role of sacrificial lamb was explicitly denied to girls.”
“I Couldn’t Even Name Her”
Mary’s frustration begins to unfold in one early fragment where she writes wistfully about the life she imagined for her hypothetical daughter. ‘I dreamed of braiding her hair as she stood on water, of watching her grow into a wise, compassionate Savior who could suffer as brutally as any man. But alas, He said no.’
Scholars say the “He” referenced is likely the Father, also known for His dramatic displays of wrath, patriarchal tendencies, and persnickety insistence that He be referred to with capitalized pronouns. ‘I begged and pleaded,’ Mary wrote in one particularly scathing entry. ‘But apparently, women are too ‘delicate’ for scourging, as if we don’t endure enough pain birthing their so-called Messiahs.’
“Only a Boy Can Scream in Agony on a Cross, Apparently”
Mary’s resentment over divine gender politics grows sharper in later scrolls. ‘He tells me a daughter couldn’t carry the weight of humanity’s sins. Really? Because I’ve carried this family for years. But no, let’s give the job to the kid who can’t even clean his room without divine intervention.’
Another passage reads, ‘When I asked why my girl couldn’t be the Chosen One, He said, ‘It’s tradition.’ Tradition? Crucifixion is literally hammering someone to a cross until they die. You think the Romans are stopping mid-torture to check if the Savior has a beard?’
Boys Lack Sense of Fashion for Historic Public Crucifixions
In her writings, Mary described pleading with her son to trim let his cousin, a recent graduate from beauty school, clean him up before the big day. Mary imagines how a female Savior might have approached the task with a touch of class.
‘A girl would’ve worn an embroidered robe—something with flair. Maybe a tasteful sash in royal purple or a headpiece that says, ‘I’m here to redeem humanity and bleed out in the baking sun while birds peck at my eyeballs, but I’m doing it it in a robe so scandalously divine that someday men will worship women writhing atop large poles’” she mused in one passage.
She also speculated that a female Messiah would have added thoughtful personal touches to the ordeal: “Imagine a carefully curated crucifixion look. A pair of sandals with braided straps to compliment the robe, perhaps. The kind of ensemble that says, ‘Yes, I’m bleeding out slowly for your sins bitch, and you hate me for looking sexier than you’ll ever look.’”
Even the crown of thorns, Mary believed, could have been elevated. “A girl would’ve adjusted the fit, maybe woven in some jasmine flowers or fresh olive leaves to soften the look. Something dignified, but also approachable.”
As for the infamous post-crucifixion spear to the side? Mary imagined her hypothetical daughter wouldn’t let that moment go unremarked upon. “She’d make it dramatic—like a fainting pose, one hand draped across her forehead as she collapses. Let the Romans remember the importance of stage presence.”
Even the act of carrying the cross, Mary suggested, could have been transformed. “I can see her now, gliding up Golgotha with the posture of a queen, despite the weight on her shoulders. Maybe with a linen scarf wrapped around her hair to keep it from getting mussed in the desert wind. It’s all about grace under pressure.”
Mary concluded one particularly detailed scroll with a sigh: “Instead, I get boys stomping around in unwashed tunics, shouting about forgiveness while covered in splinters. No wonder we’re still waiting for the kingdom of heaven.”
“At Least I Could’ve Done Her Hair”
Despite her growing disdain for divine gender roles, Mary’s scrolls also show her longing for simple mother-daughter moments. ‘I just wanted to teach her how to braid palm fronds or weave her own tunics. Instead, I get to sit here and watch the boys bicker about who gets to sit on the right hand of the throne.’
She also expressed quiet jealousy over the legacy of her son’s suffering. ‘His death will inspire a religion that spans millennia. But when I endure suffering—cleaning up after His miracles, stitching His sandals—nobody calls it salvation. They just call it Tuesday.’
“He Could’ve Had My Cross”
The most poignant entries reflect Mary’s belief that she could have been the one tortured to death die for humanity’s sins. ‘Why couldn’t it have been me?’ she wrote. ‘I’ve spent years carrying literal loads of bread and fish; how hard could one cross be? But no, apparently my womb’s good enough for the Savior, but not the nails.’
Scholars are hailing the scrolls as a radical critique of ancient gender inequality. “Mary seems to have been one of the first to demand equality,” said Dr. Abrams. “She was ready to break the glass ceiling—or perhaps the wooden cross.”
The scrolls will go on display in an exhibit titled, “The First Feminist Savior: Mother Mary Wanted More Nails,” alongside artifacts like an ancient papyrus reading, ‘Why not let a woman bleed for humanity? We’re naturals.’
Mother Mary"I'm bleeding out slowly for your sins bitch, and you hate me for looking sexier than you'll ever look.’”
