Praying the Stations of the Cross with St. Joseph: Introduction

Praying the Stations of the Cross with St. Joseph

Introduction

I suppose, to some, the title of this series of reflections, Praying the "Stations of the Cross with St. Joseph,” must seem confusing, maybe even odd. How can St. Joseph be spoken about in the same breath as the Stations of the Cross when there is nothing, neither in Sacred Scripture nor in the tradition of the Church, that would lead us to believe that St. Joseph was a witness to the events of Jesus’ passion and crucifixion? Joseph is not mentioned, even by reference, in the Passion Narratives of any of the four Gospels, nor does he even seem to be a presence at all in the last three years of our Lord’s life when He engaged in His public ministry of teaching and healing. Since Joseph is only an active presence in the Infancy Narratives and the one, seemingly out-of-place event when he and Mary took Jesus, at age twelve, to Jerusalem for the Passover celebration, it has long been assumed that he must have died sometime prior to Jesus shuttering the carpenter shop in Nazareth and emerging from relative obscurity to engage in His public ministry. Even more so, Joseph is silent in words (although “noisy” in deeds) in the Gospels. There is not one of his words recorded. How then can Joseph “accompany” us on our praying of the stations, when he didn’t accompany Jesus? And how can we “pray” with him when we have none of his words?

But, in a sense, I believe St. Joseph did accompany our Lord from condemnation to entombment. I know, beyond a doubt, that my parents are with me still, even though they are deceased. They make their presence known to me in many ways - sometimes subtly and sometimes dramatically - especially at times when I need them most. During the times when I have suffered in body or in mind or in spirit, I felt their presence and guidance; I “heard” their words of encouragement, wisdom and consolation. I knew that, even in death, they had not abandoned me and their love for me was just as strong, perhaps even stronger, as it was when they were with me in time and space. “For us, life has not ended, but merely changed.” Would Jesus have not experienced the same thing when He needed Joseph the most?

Furthermore, it seems to me, that a role Joseph played in the Infancy Narratives was to direct others to the babe lying in the manger. When the shepherds arrived at the stable in Bethlehem, would it not have been St. Joseph who greeted them and pointed toward Jesus? Upon the arrival of the Magi, would it not have been he who personally escorted them to his son? And so, is it a stretch of the imagination that St. Joseph does the same thing for us when we arrive on the scene to encounter our Lord, even to the cross?

As we pray the Stations of the Cross, Joseph is as he was in Scripture – silent. And that’s okay – because we are not. And so, as we pray the Stations of the Cross, our words are united to his heart . . . our prayers become his intercession for us.

So, come now . . . let us pray the Stations of the Cross, asking Joseph to accompany us, to lead us, not only to the cross, but to a deeper appreciation and a more profound love for Jesus. And as our Spiritual Father, may he guide, counsel, and strengthen us as we pick up our own crosses daily.

 

Praying The Stations of the Cross with St. Joseph - The First Station

Praying the Stations of the Cross with St. Joseph

The First Station - Jesus is Condemned

He came to his native place and taught the people in their synagogue. “The Spirit of the Lord is upon me,” He said, “because he has anointed me to bring glad tidings to the poor. He has sent me to proclaim liberty to captives and recovery of sight to the blind, to let the oppressed go free, and to proclaim a year acceptable to the Lord . . . “Today this scripture passage is fulfilled in your hearing.” And they took offense at him.

Is this not the son of Joseph?

The high priest said to him, “I order you to tell us under oath before the living God whether you are the Messiah, the Son of God.” Jesus said to him in reply, “You have said so. But I tell you: From now on you will see ‘the Son of Man seated at the right hand of the Power’ and ‘coming on the clouds of heaven.’” Then the high priest tore his robes and said, “He has blasphemed! What further need have we of witnesses? You have now heard the blasphemy; what is your opinion?” They said in reply, “He deserves to die!”

But is this not the son of Joseph?

Pilate asked him, “Are you the king of the Jews?” He said to him in reply, “You say I am a king. For this I was born and for this I came into the world, to testify to the truth. Everyone who belongs to the truth listens to my voice.” Pilate said to him, “What is truth?” In the end, Pilate had him handed over to them to be crucified,

But is this not the son of Joseph?

Yes, he is the carpenter’s son, the son of Joseph. But He is so much more: Messiah . . . Son of God . . . King of the Jews. Rejected and condemned for who He is. Rejected and condemned for speaking the truth. But it is the truth that has set us free.

Let us pray . . . St. Joseph, your son, Jesus, was condemned and crucified by the authorities for speaking the truth . . . the truth about them and the truth about Him. The truth about love and the truth about mercy. The truth about freedom and the truth about inner peace. The truth about accepting others and the truth about how cherished we are in the eyes of God. The truth about who and what is righteous in the eyes of God, and the truth that we need to turn away from sin and repent. O righteous Joseph, teach me to always see Jesus as the way, the truth and the life.

St. Joseph, foster father of the Son of God, pray for us.

Praying The Stations of the Cross with St. Joseph - The Second Station

Praying the Stations of the Cross with St. Joseph

The Second Station - Jesus Accepts the Cross

Hands . . . a child’s hands that grew to become the strong hands of an adult . . . shape, mold, caress the wood in his father’s carpenter shop. Raw wood – cut, sawed, sanded, transformed, by His hands, to become a table, a chair, a chest, a house – things of the living.

Shoulders . . . a carpenter’s shoulders, strong, muscular, broad . . . accept the rough, course, splintery beam. Shoulders . . . lately scourged, stinging with pain from open, bloody wounds. A wooden beam . . . imposed, yet somehow also accepted – a thing of death.

Yet, it is not just a beam of wood he carries on those shoulders and in those hands. But the world . . . all of us, and all of our sins.

The hands, the shoulder,s of the carpenter’s son . . . full of strength, power, glory, grace and redemption.

Let us pray . . . Oh St. Joseph, you used the talents of your human nature for good. Through the work of your hands, you brought joy into the lives of so many by making for them the things they wanted, the things they needed. It saddens and baffles me that others, who were given the same God given talents, used them, not to be co-creators with Him and bring joy and beauty to the world, but rather to inflect pain and death to Jesus. St. Joseph, help me to see my talents, my intellect, my personality, my wit, for what they are, gifts to be shared to give glory to God and benefit to all.

St. Joseph, model of artisans, pray for us.

Praying The Stations of the Cross with St. Joseph - The Third Station

Praying the Stations of the Cross with St. Joseph

 

The Third Station - Jesus Falls the First Time

God said to the prophet Jeremiah: "It is I who by my great power and my outstretched arm have made the earth, with the men and the animals that are on the earth, and I give it to whomever it seems right to men."

But now, the Creator falls to the very earth He created. A misstep from the heavy weight he carries across his shoulders . . . His knees buckle . . . He stumbles . . . His body crashes to the ground.

The boy fell taking his first steps. Perhaps a skinned knee. Perhaps a tear. But always with the resolve to pick himself up and go on. And now the man, taking his last steps, sprawls to the ground. The well-trod dirt of the road touches his lips . . . the scent of animal dung fills his nose . . . the angry, hateful words of mockery, ridicule, and cursing drown out the hosannas from his ears. Yet the man, like the boy, is filled with resolve and picks himself up and goes on.

How can this be? God answers us through the words of His prophet, Isaiah: "Do you not know? Have you not heard? The LORD is God from of old, creator of the ends of the earth. He does not faint or grow weary, and his knowledge is beyond scrutiny."

Let us pray . . . St. Joseph, I stumble and fall. I sin. I like to think how strong I am, yet I am often so weak, and I stumble under the weight of the evil I choose. And after I stumble and fall, it is often difficult for me to muster the strength to stand and admit I was wrong and begin walking along a new path - the way of goodness, grace, purity, and righteousness. I also like to make excuses for myself, shrugging my shoulders, justifying and minimalizing what I do by saying, “Hey, I’m only human!” Dear Joseph, you whom Scripture calls “righteous,” assist me to strive to always be the person God created me to be - good and in His image.

St. Joseph, Most Prudent, pray for us.

Praying The Stations of the Cross with St. Joseph - The Fourth Station

Praying the Stations of the Cross with St. Joseph

 

The Fourth Station - Jesus Meets His Mother

Sometimes there are no words. Sometimes the eyes say it all. And there, on that road, as son meets mother, eyes speak for a pierced heart. Eyes speak for a broken body.

He tried to form words. But his pain and his exhaustion, his parched lips and his tongue that clung to the roof of his mouth muted the words. Her eyes squinted and looked deeply, lovingly into his. “Don’t, my son,” they said. “I know.”

She recalled the words He spoke to her when she and Joseph searched everywhere to find their twelve-year-old son, only to discover Him among the elders in the Temple. “Why were you searching for me,” he asked. “Did you not know I must be about my Father’s business?” And today, carrying the cross towards his tragic destination, He is about His Father’s business. It is the business of complete, unearned, underserved, unconditional love. It is about having no greater love than to lay down His life for those who are beloved. It is about fulfilling a promise first made in the Garden of Eden and reiterated, time and time again, by the prophets to make right the sin of Adam. It is about redemption. It is about eternal life.

Sometimes there are no words. How do you really say, “I love you” and convey the depth, intensity and sincerity of that love through words. Words betray us in the moments we most could use them, and the eyes say it all. Jesus and Mary’s eyes met, and the “I love you” need not be spoken. They knew.

As the soldier, roughly and contemptuously separated mother from son and forced Jesus to continue the slow, pain-filled journey to the site of His crucifixion, a word finally came to Mary’s lips. It was the same word she spoke to the angel in accepting God’s will to become the mother of the Son of God. Did she whisper it to herself, or did she scream it out for her son to hear? “FIAT!!!” “Let it be!”

Let us pray, St. Joseph, when you and Mary brought Jesus to be presented in the Temple when He was an infant, Simeon prophesied that a sword would pierce Mary so that the thoughts of many hearts would be revealed. But a sword pierced your heart, too, when having already died, you could not protect Jesus from the torturous pain He endured in His passion, nor the piercing sorrow in Mary’s heart as she witnessed the cruelty inflected upon Him. O Sacred Heart of Jesus, O Immaculate Heart of Mary, O most Chaste Heart of Joseph, protect me from all danger, from all that would injure my body and my soul, my heart and my spirit. Unite my breaking heart to yours.

St. Joseph, Husband of Mary and Protector of Virgins, pray for us.

Praying the Stations of the Cross with St. Joseph - The Fifth Station

Praying the Stations of the Cross with St. Joseph

The Fifth Station - Simon of Cyrene Helps Jesus Carry the Cross 

He came from Cyrene, a town in northern Africa. With his two sons, Alexander and Rufus, he made his way from the country fields that fateful Friday morning, through the city gates, and into the heart of Jerusalem. He jostled through the narrow, crowded streets and the jeering mob, seeking a safe place for him and his sons to witnesses the spectacle of a condemned criminal shouldering the burden of that which would be the means of His execution - the cross on which he would hang. “His name is Jesus,” someone said in a whisper.

Something drew Simon to that particular place, something more than two sons of an age, when a gory crucifixion was a sight not to be missed. But what was it that drew him into being an unwitting participant in the drama he was witnessing? Was it his height and physique? Was it, being from Cyrene, his darker skin color? Did Jesus stumble beneath the weight of the wood right in front of him? Did he instinctively, stretch out his arm to help or mutter a word of protest of the violent way Caesar’s centurions were keeping the Peace of Rome? Or was he simply at the wrong place at the right time? Whatever the reason, soon the wood marked a groove on Simon’s shoulder as he was compelled to share the weight of the cross.

“You! Take the cross!” commanded the centurion. And Simon stepped out of the crowd, and out of anonymity, and balanced the timber against his shoulder. Were there words exchanged between Jesus and Simon, or perhaps just a look and a nod? But whatever transpired between them, the experience was enough to change Simon’s life forever. He became the first, in a line of millions, who have heeded Jesus’ invitation, “If anyone wishes to come after me, he must deny himself and take up his cross daily and follow me.”

Let us pray . . . O St. Joseph, bless the Simon of Cyrenes in my life – those who lift the cross from my back through a helping hand, a kind word, a smile, or simply by their presence. And help me, also, to be someone who takes on the burdens of others when they are crushed by the weight of the world with all its disappointments, sorrows, struggles and pain, even when it’s not convenient, even when it’s not really what I want to do, even when taking up their cross will make heavier my own. Help me to be there, to support and to firm the steps of others, because it is not they who are asking, but your Son.

St. Joseph, Most Obedient, pray for us.

 

Praying The Stations of the Cross with St. Joseph - The Sixth Station

Praying the Stations of the Cross with St. Joseph

 

The Sixth Station - Veronica Wipes the Face of Jesus

There was something about that face. Rugged and strong . . . the face of a carpenter that had known the fatigue of a hard day’s work and was not unaccustomed to struggles, and worries, and disappointments  ... yet it also reflected the serenity of one who appreciated the beauty of His Father’s creation - the sun glistening on the Sea of Galilee, the scent of the wildflowers growing in the fields, and the patches of Aleppo pine trees that grew in the forests. It was a gentle face, one that beckoned both the righteous and the sinner to come and see, to hear and listen, to discover and be transformed. His was a gentle face, that reassured woman and children, the outcast and the poor, the sick and the brokenhearted, that He had come for them too, and that they had a place in His kingdom. There were laugh lines on His face which revealed that He laughed heartily and often, but there were also furrows on his brow which were windows to an inner sadness, a depth of thought, and a seriousness in His nature. And those eyes! Those eyes that were beacons of his love, his compassion, and his mercy . . . but above all, the depth of his soul.

All of this was the imprint that was captured on the cloth that the woman named Veronica pressed against Jesus’ face as she bravely, compassionately, broke from the crowd and pushed her way to Him amidst insults, shouts, curses and threats. But there was more, so much more, that the streams of blood, sweat and spit which dripped copiously from the condemned man’s face could not hide, that also became part of that imprint. Yes, pain and exhaustion, but more than that . . . courage - beyond that which is humanly possible; determination – a resolve to see this through to the end; a serenity that comes from the knowledge that, through it all, he has been true to Himself and true to the will of His Father; a sense of purpose - that all of this is not in vain, and He is accomplishing everything that He was born to fulfill, all that had been promised to humankind since Man first ate of the fruit of sin; and holiness - “For it was indeed fitting that we should have such a high priest, holy, innocent, unstained, separate from sinners, and exalted above the heavens.” (Hebrews 7:26).

All of that was captured on the cloth of the woman named Veronica, let we ever forget.

Let us pray . . . St. Joseph, in ancient Israel, people gave great thought to the name they gave to a child. Names were often translatable, and so, the name spoke of a virtue or quality they wished their child to possess, or something they hoped the child would accomplish. In recalling the passion of your son, we remember the brave and compassionate woman who pushed through the crowd to offer a simple act of kindness to Jesus by wiping his dirty, bloody, sweat-filled face. Her name, Veronica, means “true image” - a fitting name, not so much because of the imprint of His face left on her veil, but because. in her compassion, she, herself, became the “true image” of Jesus. St. Joseph, assist me to so reflect your son to others . . . by the warmth of my smile, the compassion and love in my eyes, and the kindness of my actions . . . that I, too, might be the “true image” of Jesus, so that when they see me, they see Him.

St. Joseph, Most Faithful, pray for us.