Stations of the Cross

An Invitation from Jesus: Welcome to the way of the cross! If you truly want to be my disciple, remember, “I have loved you just as God has loved me. Remain in my love.” If you really want to be my servant, “This is my commandment: love one another as I have loved you. No one can have greater love than to lay down his life for his friends.” Listen carefully, “You are my friends if you do what I command you.” Come now and experience the Stations of the Cross with me and learn of God’s love. Then, my friend, take up your cross daily and follow me into your world. This is the way of life now and forever.

Jesus: There I was before Pilate who believed he had the power to take my life or let me live.  The chief priests and elders said I deserved to die.  The crowds cried out, “Crucify him!  Crucify him!” At that point and time they sentenced me to death. They could not understand that in the scope of God’s time, the Creator of the universe chose to send me as a human to proclaim the steadfast love of God for all people and to sacrifice my life for each of them. This was God’s will and commitment, my choice from the beginning, now being fulfilled.

Friend: Lord, your life and purpose are beyond my understanding and imagination. I know the story of your life and death, but I still cannot comprehend that this is the path you chose to take for me. You have made God’s love so personal, so compelling. Too often I am the one who responds with judgments toward others – and, yes, even you. I have been known to think the words, “Crucify him!” –or worse yet, “Ignore him!” Too often I have wanted life my way. I am so unworthy. I am the one who should be condemned. Yet, you call me “friend” and ask me to follow you. Lord, have mercy on me.

Jesus: I picked up my cross as they ordered me, but not before they beat me unmercifully. The pain was so intense I thought I might die before I got to Golgotha – the “place of the skull.” The greater pain, added to the burden of the wooden cross, was the weight of Sin and Death. Still, there was a sense of peace knowing this was God’s will and the way to give life. I pray that you will never have to bear the cross of death. But at the same time, I know that your cross of life will also cost you over and over. Be of good courage. The cross is the way of life.

Friend: The image of you carrying the cross is almost more than I can bear. I can see the stripes on your back, the bruises on your body. All of this is so cruel and unfair. Where is the justice in this? Why did you have to suffer? I pray my questions come from my love for you and the agony I feel. Clearly, your way of the cross is a gift of love – of grace. At the same time, I cannot imagine taking up my cross and following you. The cost is too great. I don’t think I could stay true to the sacrificial life. Help me, Lord.

Jesus: Carrying my cross was necessary not only for my crucifixion, but also for my sacrifice. This was added to the daily struggles I encountered in being human – the challenges, stresses, grief, disappointments, fears, rejection and even anger. Like you, I experienced all of human life in my brief time with you. Memories of life’s struggles and conflicts came rushing back as I carried my sacrificial cross. I fell and the weight of the cross punished my body even more. Yes, the burdens were many, but God’s Spirit sustained me and kept me focused.

Friend: How did you survive? I would have given up long before being sent to the cross. Even now life is sometimes so challenging I can hardly cope. You know very well that life is hard – sometimes brutally hard. You chose the life we mortals live and more. You understand my struggles and I am grateful. Now you are asking me to take up my cross and live sacrificially. The concerns and wounds of my life are challenging enough. How can I add another life commitment, one which will no doubt cause me to fall? Heal me. Hold me.

Jesus: What grief I felt when I saw my blessed mother.  I cried for her and not for myself.  She had been told that a sword of grief would pierce her soul and now her face reflects her agony. Deeper than the agony, I see love and encouragement in her eyes. She always supported my mission even when she didn’t fully understand or was fearful. Mother wanted to know and live into God’s will for her and for me. Even in her grief, her faith was unwavering. I love her.

Friend: The Blessed Virgin Mary, your mother, was always there for you, wasn’t’ she? I have respected her from the first time I heard the Christmas story. I seldom allowed myself to think of her pain as she watched you being rejected, being humiliated, being put to death. What strength and commitment! What faith! If only I could believe like she believed – live like she lived – suffer like she suffered. Teach me, Lord.

Jesus: Simon was an innocent bystander who had just come to Jerusalem for the Passover. He knew nothing of what was happening, but soldiers forced him to help me carry the cross. At first he was angry at the imposition and became even more angry with the humiliating and difficult task. Then our eyes met. I felt compassion flowing from me. As we journeyed together, I began to feel compassion flowing from Simon to me. He became a willing participant. As Simon shared the burden of my cross, I realized he was beginning to carry his cross of sacrifice too. He had my cross on his shoulder and an arm around my waist. Together we climbed the hill.

Friend: I wish I could have been Simon. At the same time I’m not sure I could have done what he was forced to do – much less volunteered. Even now I feel an attraction and a reluctance to take up my cross for you. It is much easier to embrace the “Sweet Jesus” in the pictures of my childhood. This is much different. Simon became your friend and you have called me “friend”. I don’t know that my faith is strong enough. Please forgive me.

Jesus: My sweat, blood and dirt were all mixed together on my face and body. The physical pain was beyond description, but the agony of being rejected and so despised by the very people I loved and encouraged was overwhelming. Then all of a sudden there was this woman who, defying the soldiers, stepped forward and wiped my face. Her compassion and courage revived my soul. And, so it is, when you touch the face of anyone who has been abused and neglected in this world, when you love them, you love me.

Friend:  Jesus, surely if I had been there I too would have wiped your face – how awful this must have been for you. I would have cared for you if the soldiers had allowed. But what could this possibly mean: that when I care for despised, abused or neglected people, I am wiping your face?  Lord, they are nothing like you. Yet, you did say that serving and loving others means we are serving and loving you. There is so much I do not understand – or perhaps don’t want to understand. Open my eyes.

Jesus: The words of the prophet, Isaiah, kept going through my mind. “Surely he has borne our griefs and carried our sorrows. All we like sheep have gone astray; we have turned every one to his own way; and the Lord has laid on him the iniquity of us all. He was oppressed, and he was afflicted, yet he opened not his mouth.” I was exhausted and fell again. I felt betrayed and knew that a great injustice was being done to me. But I kept saying to myself, “This isn’t about me.” I was carrying the cross, carrying everything, for you. God’s love knows no limits.

Friend: How could you do this – especially for me? I know the scripture from memory, “God so loved the world that he gave his only begotten son to the end that all that believe in him should not perish but have eternal life.” I know your words from memory, but not always by heart. I can hardly bear to think of you falling under the weight of the cross – under the weight of my sin and unbelief.  I am so unworthy. Save me.

Jesus: There were women who were weeping for me – for my suffering and my imminent death. While most of the men stayed in the background out of fear, women were wailing and lamenting my fate. They could not understand what was happening was not about me. My life, my passion and death was about them and their children and their children’s children. There was still time for them to turn from their sin and love God with all their heart, all their soul and all their mind. Why is it so hard to believe what I say? 

Friend:  My eyes often fill with tears when I think of what you went through. Everything was so unfair. Crucifixion was for criminals and not prophets. Certainly not for the Son of God. My deepest grief is in knowing that you took this path for me – to give me life – to give me hope. I have never known, nor can I imagine, anyone loving me enough to die for me – and not only me, but for everyone who has and will live. Like the women, I weep for you. But I weep even more for myself because I am so unworthy. Jesus, change me.

Jesus: My strength was gone, the pain intense. Darkness seemed to be closing in. I barely remember falling. For a moment I didn’t think I would be able to complete my mission. Simon whispered, “You are almost there.” I looked up and saw my destination was only a short distance now. Something within me felt stronger and I willed my body to move. All I had lived for had come to this time and place. My mission had to be fulfilled.

Friend: When I think of you falling again, I feel so ashamed. My faith has had so many ups and downs. Sometimes I am so committed to you and willing to follow you in every way. Then there are times when I am stressed and distracted. And times when I let other priorities and desires take over. Times when I claim my life for myself and ignore your will for me. I have fallen in life so many times and for all the wrong reasons. You fell again bearing the burden of my choices – my faithlessness. You stood up again because of your steadfast love for me. Lord, lift me up.

Jesus: We finally got to the top of the hill and I knew it would soon be over. The soldiers ripped off my clothing leaving me naked except for the crown of thorns. This was yet another act to humiliate me. They cast lots for my garments, but I didn’t care. My body was beaten and abused. They mocked and cursed me. I had been treated like a criminal.  But, they could not break my will – my commitment to my destiny. Soon I would die, not because of them, but for them – and for you, my friend. 

Friend: The images of you are intolerable. Wasn’t the incarnation enough - becoming like us in human flesh? Armed with love you came to us. You possessed only the clothes you wore and now those are gone.  By comparison, I have so much and sometimes I think my possessions possess me. In my own way I have often stripped you too and left you to suffer alone.  I have denied your rightful place at the center of my life. Too often I have turned my back on you and yielded to my fears of failure, rejection and emptiness. Jesus, I share in the shame of your cross. Please absolve me.

Jesus: The pain kept coming as they nailed me to the cross. I nearly fainted. And yet I was even more clear: this was right, this would complete my mission. The irony of being crucified between two criminals, one repentant and one defiant, also seemed oddly right. There are always those who are eager to believe and those who refuse. Even so, some who say “Yes” so readily, ultimately betray and abandon me when the cost becomes too much. While others, who resist or even deny me at first, often become my most faithful followers. Those who take up their cross and follow, are believers, are disciples, are truly my friends.

Friend: Sometimes I feel like the one with the mallet in his hand striking the nails piercing your hands and feet. At the same time, my heart is weeping to know that you endured the pain because you love me. Such ambivalence is all too familiar to me. Jesus, I love you and would do anything for you, but I love my life too – the way it is. To comply with your will on everything is more than I can handle – more than I really want to change and give to you. I confess that I want to be “Christian,” but on my terms – and my terms aren’t enough. Lord Christ, sanctify me.

Jesus: Finally the time came. They raised me up and dropped the end of my cross in a hole in the ground with such force that even my bones cried out in agony. Every fiber of my body seemed torn as I dangled there. The soldiers were still mocking me. They gave me vinegar to drink. I entrusted my mother to my disciple, John. I could hardly breathe under the weight of my body. The sun and wind were taking all the moisture from my body.  I felt so alone – so absolutely alone with the darkness closing in. I mustered all my remaining strength and screamed, “Father, into your hands I commend my spirit.” With my death, my mission was complete. “It is finished.”

Friend: Words fail me. Looking at your cross and watching you die, there is nothing for me to say. I remember a prayer that provides perspective. Help me make it personal. “Lord Jesus Christ, you stretched out your arms of love on the hard wood of the cross that everyone might come within the reach of your saving embrace – including me. So clothe me in your Spirit that I, reaching forth my hands in love, may bring those who do not know you to the knowledge and love of you.” Jesus, I love you.

Jesus: Although my death was a relief for me, the agony of my mother and friends only deepened. They wept bitter tears which, in time and with grace, would turn to tears of joy. But, at this point my sacrifice was impossible for them to grasp. To them, all was lost. For me, victory was only a breath away. A new creation was being born based on God’s steadfast love – God’s grace. My life has been crowned by my sacrifice. Now you, my friend, are invited to follow in my way of life. Your life will be crowned by your faithfulness.

Friend: Jesus, my Lord, I cannot take it all in. You made the ultimate sacrifice and all hope is gone – or so it seems. Yet, even in your death there seems to be a glimmer of hope – a ray of light in the darkness. Is this only wishful thinking on my part? How could your death be the way to life? How can one go from absolute despair to resolute hope? True, I know the rest of the story, but I don’t understand it. Believing is difficult in the darkest days of my life and death. Lord, help my unbelief.

Jesus: Joseph of Arimathea, one of my followers, used his influence with Pilate to take possession of my body. Otherwise, my body would have been left to the dogs like those who had gone before me. My body was wrapped in linen and placed in Joseph’s new tomb. My mortal life had ended. Yet, even in death, I knew there was about to be a new beginning. My friends would become my hands, my feet and my lips. My compassion and my message of God’s love would be lived in and through them. My mission would continue in those who truly follow me. I will be in them and they in me.

Friend: If I had been brave enough to stay to the end, if I had laid you in the tomb, I would have believed all had been lost. I have more questions than answers – more doubts than faith. Even now I don’t know how you could trust me to truly be your hands, your feet and your lips. I am so unworthy and incapable. Lord, as I remember the entombment of your body sacrificed for me, give me a vision deep within my spirit of your saving grace, a vision of the path I am to walk. By the power and grace of your Spirit, transform me into your likeness. Come Lord Jesus.  Empower my faith. Embrace me as your friend.

Jesus Christ: My journey to the cross, my sacrifice, is complete. Now take up your cross and follow me every day. Draw strength from our friendship and all our friends who now make up my Body on earth. Give yourself to our shared mission in good times and hard. Allow your life to reflect who I am in you. I need you and I am counting on you. Remember, I am always with you, my friend.

Friends: Lord Christ, we are ready.