Thoughts Along the Way
Meditations on the Stations of the Cross
The First Station
JESUS CARRIES HIS CROSS
As I meditate on the First Station of the Cross, where Pilate condemns Jesus to death, the expression, "Judge, jury and executioner" came to mind. That's what Pontius Pilate was - the judge who presided over the trial that the Sanhedrin brought to him; the jury who decided Jesus' fate; and the executioner whose hands could not be washed clean of the blood of Jesus.
I started to wonder; do I ever do the same? Do I ever judge who is worthy of my love, my friendship, my forgiveness, my compassion? Am I ever the jury who decides who should be forgiven or receive a verdict of guilt? Am I the executioner who imposes a life sentence of scorn, of silence, of imprisonment in a cell of isolation?
What about you?
The Second Station
JESUS CARRIES THE CROSS
More than any of the other stations, this one goes by varying titles: "Jesus Carries the Cross," or "The Cross is Laid on Jesus." But the title I prefer, the one that I think is most accurate is this: "Jesus ACCEPTS the Cross."
The former two could imply a passive Jesus, as the cross is imposed upon him. People often say they are ‘accepting fate’ when they are sorrowfully resigning themselves to a chain of events that they do not want to happen. And it might be tempting to think that that is what Jesus is doing. But that paints too passive a picture of what we are to understand of Jesus here: true acceptance does not need to be about resignation or defeatism, nor about passive reception. Jesus is not bowing his head in passive defeat: he can truly accept the cross because he knows what it means, that it is the beginning of something. The beginning of the end? No! The necessary beginning of redemption, salvation, resurrection, eternal life!
Maybe from now on this Station should be called, "Jesus EMBRACES His Cross." To embrace is to caress with love. Isn't that what Jesus is doing? Embracing the cross out of love for US!
The Third Station
JESUS FALLS THE FIRST TIME
I walk with a cane most of the time now. I've become very unsteady on my feet and I fear falling. Two years ago, I fell outside my apartment, and it was a sad and unwelcomed reality check that suddenly I had become the woman in the television commercial who says, "I've fallen and I can't get up!"
Children fall, and it's so easy for them to pick themselves up again. The older you get, the weaker you become, and the more you fall, the more difficult that becomes. Maybe the same thing can be said about sin. The more we fall into sin, the more difficult it sometimes is to pick ourselves up, dust ourselves off, and start all over again (as the old song says). Sometimes, like a physical fall, it's so much easier to just lie there and not to make the effort to upright ourselves, to stand on our two feet again, to take a step, and to move on.
It took Jesus a lot of strength, a lot of willpower, resolve, perseverance and grit to pick himself up from beneath the cross he was carrying, to steady himself, and to continue his journey to the cross. But it wasn't just to the cross he was walking ... but to the tomb ... and to resurrection.
As I reflect on this station, I realized the same could be said about me, if I, like Jesus, am determined to pick myself up when I trip over my sinfulness and fall flat on my face. The question is: Will I? Will you?
The Fourth Station
JESUS MEETS HIS SORROWFUL MOTHER
I remember many years ago the mother of one of my students passed away. After class, another student came to me and said that the boy who lost his mom was a good friend and that he felt so bad for him, but he didn't know if he was going to go to the wake, that he hated wakes and he just didn't know what to say to his friend to console him. I told him that what he said or didn't say wasn't important; that the boy who lost his mother was probably so filled with grief that, in the long run, he wouldn't remember what he said. But he would remember that he was there. Sometimes presence - just being there - says it all.
That memory came to mind as I was meditating on the Fourth Station of the Cross: Jesus Meets His Sorrowful Mother. Were there any words exchanged in that moment between Jesus and Mary? Probably not. But there didn't need to be. Just being there said it all.
The Fifth Station
SIMON OF CYRENE HELPS JESUS CARRY THE CROSS
In the Passion Narratives of the gospels, we're presented with a Tale of the Two Simons - Simon Peter and Simon of Cyrene. One abandons Jesus in his need. He runs away from the cross. The other runs toward Jesus and, in His need, lifts the cross from Jesus' shoulders. This Lent, and as we approach Holy Week, a question to meditate on is this: Do I avoid the cross at any cost? Do I fail to take up someone else's cross because the one I carry is heavy enough? Am I a Simon of Cyrene or a Simon Peter? Which one are you? Thank you to those who have been a Simon of Cyrene for me and have helped me bear the burdens I carry.
The Sixth Station
VERONICA WIPES THE FACE OF JESUS
Each year, when I was teaching high school, I would make my students an offer. I gave them this assignment: go home and look through the gospels, and the first student who emails me the book, chapter and verse where the story of Veronica wiping the face of Jesus as He carried His cross is found will win ten dollars. The students were excited by the challenge, anxious to beat out their classmates to receive the assignment's incentive. But I never paid up. I never had to. The competition was rigged. How? Because, although the story of Veronica is known by just about every Catholic, and her image is in every Catholic church, and movies about the life of Jesus usually include her, the fact of the matter is, the story of Veronica and her selfless act of wiping Jesus face with her veil is nowhere to be found in Scripture.
The name Veronica is made up of two Latin words: "vera" (meaning true) and "icon" (meaning image). True image. Supposedly, in the Vatican, is Veronica's veil with the image of Jesus' face on it. But in reality, Veronica, herself, was the "true image" of Jesus.
As I was meditating of this Station, I wondered, could people say the same thing about me? Could they say it about you?
The Seventh Station
JESUS FALLS THE SECOND TIME
In my old age, I've developed tinnitus, a constant ringing in my ears. For me, it's not so much a ringing but a swooshing or hissing sound. It's funny ... I don't notice it so much when there are other sounds I'm listing to - conversation, music, TV, etc. But it's a very evident annoyance in silence. There's nothing I can do to drown it out. It just won't go away.
In a sense, I wonder if that's what Jesus experienced as He fell a second time on the way to the cross. Sprawled on the ground, face in the dirt, cross on his back, I wonder if all he heard was the sound of laughter, the sound of mockery, the sound of curses. Oh how He wished once again to hear proclamations of faith, of love, of praise, of gratitude! But their absence from his ears, and probably from his memory, made the vile words of contempt, scorn, and mockery, a persistent part of the passion he endured. There was no relief. Even as He prayed, He couldn't drown them out. They just wouldn't go away.
I wonder if ever my lack of words of kindness, of support, of compassion, of understanding, of forgiveness have left others with a kind of tinnitus where all they hear within themselves is the constant din of self-recrimination, of self-hatred, of unworthiness, of shame, of blame. Has your silence ever done the same?
The Eighth Station
JESUS MEETS THE WOMEN OF JERUSALEM
Have you ever experienced this? Sometimes I've noticed that there are some people who say that they've called me to see how I'm doing, but they never give me a chance to tell them. Almost immediately, the conversation becomes about them - what they've been going through, their physical or emotional pains, their heartache, their loneliness. Sometimes they ask my advice, or they'll ask for my prayers. And without requesting it, they're hoping for a listening ear, a word of hope, a word of compassion.
I wonder if that's what went on when Jesus met the women of Jerusalem on the road to Calvary. These women are not idol spectators. They are women with a purpose. Their intentions are praiseworthy, yet futile. Their grief chocked words of love, kindness, appreciation, sympathy for all that He was going through are drowned in the ocean of their tears. But He, in the midst of the pain, the overwhelming sense of betrayal and abandonment, offers compassion to them, "Do not weep for me, but for yourselves and for your children"
Today, we live in the world of social media. Sadly, I think we've regressed as a society, back to our primitive origins. We let images on our cave walls do the talking for us. They say a picture is worth a thousand words, but we take it to the extreme. We communicate through pictures and emojis on our Facebook and Instagram pages and in our text messages, or limit what we want to say on X (Twitter) to 280 characters ... and words, and looks, and touches ... things that express true emotion, true compassion, true joy, true friendship, true love are lost, replaced by quickly sent images of sterile convenience. We bear the cross of time - there's never enough ... we're always rushed ... always on the go ... too busy. But Jesus wasn't. In the midst of the work of redemption and the agonizing pain he was experiencing, he took the time to offer a few words, to look deeply into the eyes of the women on the side of the road. Maybe we need to do the same.
The Ninth Station
JESUS FALLS THE THIRD TIME
All you have to do is look at me to know I'm not much of an athlete, and I never was. When I was a boy, I loved baseball and played on Little League teams. But, to tell you the truth, I wasn't very good. In my neighborhood growing up we used to play stick ball in the street. I was the kid that was the last one picked when choosing up sides. But to this day, I still love baseball and, as discouraging as it sometimes is, I never give up on my Mets.
With all the changes that have come to the game in recent years, like the pitch clock and the Automatic Balls and Strikes Challenge System (ABS), a lot of the rules haven't changed and will never change. One of them is. "Three strikes and you're out."
We have a God who hit rock bottom. Jesus fell three times, but He wasn't out. He stood up, picked up His cross, and continued along the way to the place of execution. He didn't give up. He didn't take the easy way out. He didn't say, "I've had enough." He didn't leave half done or undone the work of salvation. He was determine to see it through to the finish. He got up. And He got up again. And He got up again.
What about me? When discouragements, defeats, depression knock me down, do I get up, as painful (physically, emotionally, psychologically) as that might be, and shake it off, steady myself, and move on to the unknown ... to a place I might be hurt again ... to a place that might be worse than where I lay now ... BUT maybe also to a place of healing ... to a place of renewed life ... of new life. How about you?
Dear Jesus, as I lie on the ground, knocked down and beaten, let me look to you as my inspiration and hope. Give me the courage and strength to deal with wherever my next steps might take me.
The Tenth Station
JESUS IS STRIPPED OF HIS GARMENTS
Did you ever wonder what the greatest sin is? Jesus told us that the greatest commandment is to love God, and the second, to love our neighbor as we love ourselves. But did He ever reveal to us what the greatest sin was ... which sin was punishable by an eternity in hell?
You might be surprised to learn that He did. He said:
"I was hungry and you gave me no food, I was thirsty and you gave me no drink, a stranger and you gave me no welcome, naked and you gave me no clothing, ill and in prison, and you did not care for me.’ Then they will answer and say, ‘Lord, when did we see you hungry or thirsty or a stranger or naked or ill or in prison, and not minister to your needs?’ He will answer them, ‘Amen, I say to you, what you did not do for one of these least ones, you did not do for me.’ And these will go off to eternal punishment, but the righteous to eternal life.”
At this Station of the Cross we remember that Jesus was stripped of his garments. But let us also remember all those who are naked because they have been stripped ... stripped of their reputation because of gossip, false allegations, or the “sins” of their past.
From the cross, Jesus said, "I thirst." Let us also remember all those who thirst for a kind word or for acceptance.
As we meditate on this Station, let us also not forget those that are hungry ... hungry for a compliment, hungry for friendship, hungry for love.
And also all those that are strangers ... the ones who are always around but we fail to pay attention to them because they’re quiet, or awkward, deemed a loser, or have a difficult time fitting in.
Nor let us forget those who are sick ... sick and tired of today being no different than the day before and the day before that, and live without hope.
And also those who are imprisoned, not so much because they are locked in, but locked out: out of our lives, out of our circle of friends because their “different”: different interests, different personality, different economic status, different race, different religion, different ethnicity, different sexual orientation.
Lord, you were stripped, you were hungry and thirsted, you were a stranger and sick, you were a prisoner. And you still are. May we not be guilty of being blind to you because we're indifferent to the needs and hurts of others.
The Eleventh Station
JESUS IS NAILED TO THE CROSS
"O my people, what have I done to you? In what way have I offended you? Answer me."
As you probably know, those words are from the Good Friday "Reproaches." They pose a rhetorical question ... a question for which there is no answer.
There is no answer, for Jesus did nothing to deserve His fate. But we did and do. The pure and innocent one, the good and holy Son of God, the One who took on human flesh, who took on all human struggles, the one who preached a message of wisdom, of love, of mercy, the One who demonstrated His power and His compassion by restoring sight to the blind, hearing to the deaf, strength to the crippled, healing to the sick, and life to the dead, endured a most torturous death when His only crime was loving us, for taking upon Himself, our sins.
Here lies a great paradox: In the Garden of Eden, the fruit of a tree brought death through sin. And on a hill outside Jerusalem, the fruit of the tree of the cross brings live eternal.
Each Good Friday we sing:
"Were you there when they nailed him to the tree?
Were you there when they nailed him to the tree?
Oh, sometimes it causes me to treble, tremble, tremble.
Were you there when they crucified my Lord?"
Were you there? Was I? Maybe we weren't ... But our sins were.
The Twelfth Station
JESUS DIES ON THE CROSS
When I was in college, once a month, on a Friday evening, the school would host a film festival. A movie would be shown, followed by a speaker. Most times, the speaker would be Fr. Robert Lauder, author and film critic, who was a member of our faculty. Other times, another member of the faculty would speak. One memorable time, Margaret Hamilton, the Wicked Witch of the West, spoke after a viewing of "The Wizard of Oz." And one very unmemorable time, I spoke on a film by Ingmar Bergman, a film I never saw beforehand and didn't understand.
But of all of these "Friday Nights at the Movies," the one that has most stayed with me is the time "It's a Wonderful Life" was shown, and the speaker was legendary filmmaker Frank Capra. To see my favorite movie, and to hear from its producer/director about its inception, stories about its filming, its stars, etc., well it doesn't get much better than that!
Mr. Capra, a devout Roman Catholic, shared how George Bailey, the principal character, was a Christ figure, and gave examples from the movie to flesh that out. Mr. Capra's presentation was met with interest and enthusiasm by the students and outside guests who attended. But there was total silence and uneasiness when the filmmaker said this: "The death and resurrection of Jesus is the greatest comedy in the history of the world."
Sensing that he had lost his audience, there was a pregnant pause. And then, Capra said, "You don't understand the nature of comedy. Comedy occurs when something totally unexpected happens; something totally contrary to what the audience is anticipating; something so different than the way things usually are. The death of Jesus is the greatest comedy because Jesus pulled one over on death. He played the supreme practical joke on Satan. The anticipated ending is a tragedy ... Jesus dies. End of story? No! Because Jesus lives! He conquers death! He resurrects from the tomb!
Each Good Friday, I shed tears for all Jesus endured in His Passion out of love for me. But just maybe, after my tears of sorrow subside, I'll have a good laugh ... because I know the real ending of the story.
The Thirteenth Station
JESUS IS TAKEN DOWN FROM THE CROSS
I've never been to the Vatican, but I have been to Flushing, NY. What does one have to do with the other? In 1964 and 1965, Michelangelo's masterpiece sculpture, the Pieta, took up residence in the Vatican Pavilion at the New York World's Fair in Flushing Meadows Park, Queens.
Loaned by Pope John XXIll, it was protected by bulletproof plexiglass and was illuminated against a dark blue background to emphasize the sculpture, creating a deeply moving, focused experience. It was viewed by over 27 million people via a moving walkway.
Other than the Unisphere sculpture which still stands in the park, and almost fainting while standing in line in the very hot summer sun, the Pieta is the only thing I remember of the World's Fair. What an impression it left on me!
The solemn, grieving, yet brave countenance of Mary on the statue is a sharp contrast to actress Olivia Hussey's portrayal of Mary as Jesus' body rests in her lap after He's taken down from the cross in the miniseries, "Jesus of Nazareth." She wails loudly in inconsolable grief, her tears, cascading from her eyes, are as great as the torrents of rain that fall from the sky.
Two different images of the same event, the same mother. And, perhaps, both are valid when we, too, rest on Mary's lap and in her arms after we have been crucified on a cross of sin, or a cross of illness, or a cross of depression, or a cross of addiction, or a cross of public opinion. She is our mother, given to the beloved disciple, and given to us by Jesus from the cross. This mother grieves for us, sheds tears for us yet remains brave and strong for us in the "deaths" we experience in our lives.
"Woman, behold your son. Son, behold your mother."
Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners, now and at the hour of death.
The Fourteenth Station
JRESUS IS LAID IN THE TOMB
We've all experienced a death in our lives - the death of a parent, a sibling, a spouse, a child, a friend. With their death, a little part of ourselves also dies. We've probably all experienced other "deaths" in our lives, as well - the death of a dream, a marriage, a relationship, a job, our own self-esteem, our sense of self-worth, our love for ourselves. And we find ourselves in tombs, dark places that are devoid of the light of hope.
I found myself in such a place a few years ago. I felt alone, cut off from the world and the people I loved so much. I was in a situation that I just couldn't foresee a positive resolution. No hope. No favorable outcome. No future to look forward to.
One dark night, in tears I prayed, "Dear Lord, I don't know what to do! I don't know how to make this better." And in a small, still voice I heard, "I know you don't. But I do. I am Wisdom, the All-knowing One." And then I cried, "I just don't know if I have the strength to go on, to endure more than I already have." And that small, still voice responded, "Bruce, you don't. But I do. I am Mighty, the All-powerful One."
And what God said to me, He says to you in whatever tomb you may find yourself. But don't just take my word for it. Take His:
"O my people, I will open your graves, and have you rise from them, and I will bring you back to your land. Then you shall know that I am the Lord. O my people! I will put my spirit in you that you may live. You shall know then that I am the Lord. I have promised it, and I will do it, says the Lord." (Ezechiel 37, 12-14)
