Adapted from www.preachingpeace.org

It seems to be human nature that we want to leap over the challenging times of life and get to the good parts.  That is understandable.  However, I believe we need to not avoid the dark nights of the soul and embrace, or at least not deny hose times.  What can we begin to know something of ourselves and of God when the dark times engulf us and threaten overwhelm us?  What can we learn from those times when everything including God seems to have abandoned us?  We desire to quickly move from the despair of Good Friday to the joys of Resurrection Sunday.  I used an adaption of the Stations of the Cross on our Good Fiday service.  Here are the first five stations.  I will finish the journey with Jesus to Galgotha in my next edition.

 

Station I: Jesus is condemned to die

 

Pilate said, “I find no fault with this man,” but when the crowd grew loud, he grew silent. “I wash my hands. You deal with him.” Pilate had the knowledge and the power to stand and say no to the world as it sought to crush the Lord of Life. He didn’t use either.  How many times do I have the knowledge and the power to say no, and stay silent? How many times do I participate, by my silence, in the Passion of Jesus? Who will die because I do not say no?

 

Station II: Jesus takes up his cross. 

 

This cross has been thousands of years in the making. Its weight grows greater each time I look for someone to blame for the pain in my world. Each time I insist that sin must be punished, I add an ounce to the burden Jesus carries for me.  This is the cross he carries, the cross of blame, of vengeance.  When have I said, “Well, he certainly deserved that!” or “It’s only fair. Look at what she did!”  When have I failed to forgive as I have been forgiven. When have I laid more weight on your blessed shoulders?

 

Station III: Jesus falls the first time

 

The laughter at your first fall is transformative, Jesus. The gathered “I’s” surrounding you laugh together, becoming a “we” for the first time. We laugh together; we reduce you to a joke, to something less than a man. Your first fall is the fall of my “I.” I am lost now, in the collective “I” of the mob.  How many times, Lord, have I sacrificed my “I” as I took satisfaction or pleasure in the fall of another?

 

 

 

Station IV: Jesus meets his mother. 

We want to make you a clown. We want to isolate you completely, but your mother will not permit it. She withstands the blows of taunt and sorrow to be present for you along the way. She alone remains to give you courage, to remind us that you are someone’s child, just like we are.

 

How many times, Lord, have we watched another suffer, but from a safe distance? How many times have you looked out through the eyes of another for comfort, but were unable to find it?

 

Station V:  Simon helps Jesus carry the Cross 

 

We need you to die, Jesus, but our rage has gone too far. You are too weak to continue on to the head of the mountain because we have beaten you so severely. When you can’t go on by yourself, we look for a solution that won’t involve us too closely. We mustn’t touch the cross ourselves, but the process must go on. Then we find our answer. A stranger, someone who obviously has no idea who you are will carry the cross. He knows nothing of your innocence. ow many others have we called on to do our violence for us? How many soldiers pulled triggers because we could not? How many executioners pushed buttons for us?