My favorite Stations of the Cross

Colin wrote these meditations in college. When we began dating, he shared them with me (um yeah, just a wee bit more impressive than an average frat boyfriend). I found them arresting and vivid in a way that helped re-sharpen the inevitable dullness of familiar practices.

The devotional of Stations of the Cross originated in the early Church from the desire of pilgrims to follow the path of Jesus' Passion in Jerusalem. Christians sought to retrace Jesus’ final journey to Calvary, pausing for prayer at significant locations along the way. Pilgrims unable to visit Jerusalem began creating symbolic versions of these events and locations. The Stations of the Cross became widely displayed in Catholic churches via the promotional efforts of St Leonard of Port Maurice (1676–1751)—he even set up Stations of the Cross in the Roman Colosseum! Traditionally, the Stations of the Cross memorialize the following fourteen events of Jesus' Passion. In 1991, St John Paul II introduced an alternative Scriptural Stations of the Cross.

You can pray the Stations of the Cross any time, but they are especially fitting during Lent.

Carried by This Love: The Stations of Our Lord’s Passion

The First Station:  Jesus is Condemned to Death

I bear your sin.  It covers me like heavy ice covers a fertile lake in the dead of winter.  Having been awake all this time, with no food and anguish running through my veins, I suffer much already.  Here I am before a people whom I Love immeasurably and they condemn me.  I feel my heart streaming with the chill of fallen blood.  Oh, pain of pains that comes from Love returned with hatred.  I Love enough, though, to go on.  I will Love away the chasm that divides us.  I stand condemned, though I myself am blameless.  It is sin that is condemned and death that will die.  It is your malice that I take upon myself and, in the supreme power of Love, I will devastate the power of evil.  In mingling my blood with yours, and yours with mine, I will make warm the chill.  All of this is taken up in the midst of anguish.  Consolation seems distant.  Where are you, my chosen?  I stand condemned and my sheep are scattered.  I call on you then, beloved, to come and see: this is only the beginning.

R.  We adore you, O Christ, and we praise you, because by your holy cross you have redeemed the world.

The Second Station:  Jesus Accepts His Cross

The burden of a million sins in each splinter of these planks.  Placed on my raw and scourged back is Love.  Love, crushed by all the pain that goes with it.  My humanity buckles under the cross, but my heart presses me on.  This heart carrying the Love of my Father.  This heart knowing simultaneously the holiness of all the saints and the malice of all times.  I accept.  I am your God; you are my people, even to death.  In this way I want your heart to learn acceptance.  I know that the cross upon your back is heavy, a punishment you feel is unwarranted.  How much more is mine!  What honor there is in a share in these planks.  Learn from me.  This trade of Love is a work of suffering.  I Love, therefore I accept.  My child, my child, so must you. R.

The Third Station:  Jesus Falls the First Time

So much sin, so much hatred.  How heavy is the cross.  It burns, an inferno consuming my entire body.  My back raw and open, blood pouring out.  A flash of nothingness jousts through my heart.  I am in the dirt . . . and you are laughing at me.  The dirt stings like razors in my open wounds; even more does your taunting sadden me.  You are sobbing, too, for your whole life is lived before my eyes here on this dusty road.  You have wept in Love also.  No pain, no sin, no fatigue will stop my Love for you.  So with my human back I lift the cross with strength emanating from my divine heart.  I take a step and move towards Love’s greatest triumph.  R.

The Fourth Station: Jesus Meets His Mother

Among the many faces in the crowd, one shines light into this dark and dusty road.  I feel her heart beat in comforting rhythm, playing harmony to my own.  I know my mother is near me.  I push the weight of the cross up and straighten my maimed back.  Lifting my head, I see her, the crown jewel of all creation.  My eyes fix on hers and tears flow.  Pure Love is the victory over the stain.  Her Love fills me with strength for the journey as the sword pierces her heart, linking it even more closely to mine.  She feels my agony, but she accepts it and knows that we must go on.  With one word she restores my determination to go on—that word, your name.  She whispers it ever so softly with breath that is charged with Love and animated with Spirit. R.

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

There stands a man on the side, neither jeering nor weeping, but simply observing.  My body is writhing and the outside world is spinning.  I lean left, then right, then stagger forward.  The soldiers press the indifferent man into helping me with this burden.  He approaches reluctantly and I feel suddenly the long stem of the cross lifted off the ground.  My open wounds feel less pressure and the shaking of my body lessens.  Simon’s heart is doused with my blood pouring over it, softening it.  Like a sponge it is brittle and hard when dry but, when soaking in who I am and sharing in this work of saturation, it is softened.  No longer is he disinterested; he has become one of mine.  Perhaps he had little choice in the matter of carrying, but he chose to carry my cross with dignity.  So must you share in this way of the cross. The cross is on your shoulders, undoubtedly, but have you allowed my blood to soak into your dry heart?  Have you carried your cross with dignity?  R.

The Sixth Station:  Veronica Wipes the Face of Jesus

Sweat and blood, water and wine, humanity and divinity: they flow from my face on this journey of agony.  The crown on my head drills holes into my very skull with its iron thorns.  I cannot wipe my face.  A woman, Veronica, sees me pass by.  Love wells up inside of her.  Carried by this Love, possessed by grace, she moves through the crowd and past the soldiers.  She sees all of my pain and does the one thing she can to Love.  She cannot take away the cross but she can wipe my face.  My heart leaps for joy, even now at the presence of myself within her.  I leave my image on her veil and my life within her soul.  Be possessed by Love.  It casts out fear and allows you to do what is beautiful, what is full of my presence.  In breaking through the crowd, you will find yourself face to face with me.  See what it is you can do to Love, no matter how simple, and do it.  When blood and sweat poured down my face and stung my eyes, you wiped it.  Now enter into the home of my Father. R.  

The Seventh Station:  Jesus Falls the Second Time

Even with the glimpses of kindness and Love, the fact remains.  My cross is heavy and I am tired, bloody, and aching immeasurably.  The air looks dark and all the screaming voices in the crowd blend and decrescendo into nothing.  I feel my whole body go limp, and then the hard impact of rocky ground pressing against my already bruised ribs.  Yes, I take on humanity and my humanity is frail, like yours.  I spit the dirt from my mouth and the soil stings my parched lips.  And yet I get up, and move on; that is your example.  You will fall from limitation, from sin, from fatigue.  Spit out the dirt, get up, and continue.  I know with you the agony of suffering.  I will be there to get up with you.  You simply must keep on as I must also walk further down this road.  Arise because I Love you.  Come Love as I do; be with me. R.  

The Eighth Station:  Jesus Meets the Weeping Women of Jerusalem

Separated from the jeers and spitting, I hear sobbing.  It rises above the other noise like incense; the sound of sincere brokenness always does.  It rises and finds rests in my Father’s ear.  Dear women of Jerusalem, now that you see me broken, you are drawn to my heart.  I have strength enough to tell you that you need not weep for me, but for your children.  I rise; if they ignore my words, they will not.  Those who heed my words and Love me suffer much.  Weep and intercede for them; see me in your children’s suffering.  Women, your children, too, will shed blood and tears for generations until I return in glory.  Weep for this mystery, for the many sharers in it. R.

The Ninth Station:  Jesus Falls for the Third Time

My body on the ground again, this time drained of all human strength.  Your sins spin through my head as they are injected into me by this thorny crown. My child, do you understand Love yet?  Soon it will be lifted up for you from the soil that it bleeds upon.  I see flashes of angels hovering and weeping over all of creation. Then, in an instant, all is still.  There are jabs from the butts of spears pelting my back.  I can muster no human effort until there appears before my eyes the face of my beloved, eyes red and heavy from sobbing, heart softened and beating from a bath of my blood, helpless.  I think of you and I get up.  You are mine.  Nothing will keep me from you—not pain, not exhaustion, and not the sin that binds you.  I will destroy it.  I AM Love.  I conquer hatred.  I seal the void.  I unite myself with your suffering so that it is you who are united with my suffering.  I face what is next.  Child, come and see. R.

The Tenth Station:  Jesus is Stripped of His Garments

Father, my life is in your hands.  Now is the time to endure.  I stand with nothing to cling to, not even the cross.  My flesh, joined to my tunic by blood is ripped away with my robe.  I am naked, open, and broken.  Father, our Love is manifest.  There is nothing to veil it at this moment.  The truth of man’s inhumanity and the fruit of God’s humanity are displayed in my agony.  Thy will be done, Father.  I give my face to them and they pluck my beard.  I do not shield myself from the spit projected at my naked body.  I Love them.  I come to save them.  At this moment I know you are close because there is nothing else.  We are one.  We will be lifted up in agony and we shall redeem. R.

The Eleventh Station:  Jesus is Nailed to the Cross

Imagine my horror to see who it is that wields the hammer.  I look up and I see you hovering above me, ready to strike.  Imagine the Love I have for you.  I do not turn back, though I am capable.  I AM but a humble lamb put to slaughter and I AM so because I Love you.  With the piercing agony of every nail I unite myself to this wood which stands forever as the sign of Love.  I resign myself fully to the will of my Father and place all my trust in him, for he is Love.  I AM committed to the greatest Love: to lay down my life.  Child, you too must stretch yourself out on the cross and resign to Love, especially those who nail you to it.  If you seek to follow me, Love with all of your heart. R.

The Twelfth Station: Jesus Dies on the Cross

Silent: all things are silent.  Behold. Contemplate.  Looking on me here, you will understand how my heart longs to free you.  No greater Love is possible.  My suffering is real and my death is the center of all life.  I hang above you, pouring out blood and water.  The Son of Man is lifted up and all men are drawn.  Here my action has been the Word. Hold this deep within for this sacrifice is the crowning of all human history.   Father, into your hands I commend my spirit. R.

The Thirteenth Station:  Jesus is Taken from the Cross

Now, some who Love me bring down me to rest.  How great their pain and how battered is their faith.  I really lie in death.  My mother’s wound, the sword in her heart, is thrust through so deeply.  She holds my body in her arms and through great pain, she levies greater faith.  She knows I will rise.  It is apparent to others there, to Joseph and Nicodemus, that she had suffered my suffering with me.  It is clear now that she is obedient as I AM obedient and, even now, there is no complaint on her lips.  She continues to live her words spoken to the angel: “Be it done unto me according to your will.”  Beloved, a time will come when you will mourn a one you Love deeply.  Learn from my mother.  Have faith in resurrection that I promise. R.

The Fourteenth Station:  Jesus is Placed in the Tomb

You are ready now to plant the seed into the bowels of the earth.  You must sow me, for I AM the true see.  Although you do so in tears, I shall be myself the harvest of joy.  My mother and my friends call to roll the stone into place.  I stand at the gate of hell and with the cross I smash forever the lock that binds souls to prison.  My work within the earth will rise up and spring forward.  Have faith in the truth that you do not see, for on Sunday you will, for on Sunday you will see and you will know forever that I AM.  R.

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