Station 1: Our Lord is condemned to death.
It doesn't seem fair. What did he ever
do to deserve it? Chesterson said if Christ would come back, we
would not crucify him. We're much too civilized for that. We'd simply
invite him to dinner and make
fun of everything he said. How many carry crosses they never asked for,
condemned for their past,
chastised for their present, despairing for their future. Crucified in
the name of Christian righteousness
or religious piety. Condemned for their color, race, their dialect,
condemned because they were told
they were ugly or dumb or incapable or incompetent. Condemned for their
personal preference,
crucified for their personal limitation. Unfortunately, the
condemnation is not to death, but to life.....a
life of shame, anger, worthlessness that comes only because one is
black, white, Jew, Gentile, gay,
straight, rich, poor, productive, impaired, handicapped, able-bodied,
single, divorced, educated,
ignorant. A condemnation that is laid upon the soul: some of us did not
ask for it, none of us deserve it.
Lord, help me to recognize you not only in the saints and the
martyrs and those we consider holy, but
help me to see you in the innocence of the children, the wrinkles of
the aged, the fears of the confused,
and the cries of the angry. Help me never to be the executor in the
present who condemned you
centuries ago on a cross and now uses mere words to condemn you today.
In the name of God,
whoever we have made him to be. Our Lord is condemned to death.
Station 2: Our Lord takes up his cross.
How am I supposed to embrace a cross
when all encourage me to run from it or get rid of it? Help me
to have the wisdom to realize that the cross was not your choice, but
to carry it was. Help me to realize
that in order to remain faithful, the crosses I carry must be my
choice. Help me to see the cross of the
alcoholic, to bear the cross of my own cross of the weakness of the
flesh, to accept the brokenness in the
cross of divorce, separation, and the shattered lives we encounter.
Help me to accept the cross of the
unexpected death, the senseless violence, or the crazy war. Help me to
find you in the midst of
contradiction that only leads to confusion when there is no consolation
to be found and it leaves me
alone... and bitter. Let the handicaps and limitations of my life be a
cross that leads not to problems, but
to potential. Not to obstacles but to opportunities, therefore to know
you... in the depth of your love.
Lord, give me the patience and the perseverence to bear the burdens
that bring about my suffering and
my confusion. Give me the grace to accept myself, my temperament, my
temptations, my limitations,
and to be able to accept the trials and humiliation that come to me. In
your passion let me see my
possibilities and in my cross, let me find courage. Our Lord
takes up his cross.
Station 3: Our Lord falls the first time.
How could I? And me of all people? I
should be stronger than that. I know people who do and I don't
judge, but I, above all should know better. I recognize my cross. I
face it. So how come I don't have
the grace and strength to overcome it and not be a victim of my own
human weakness? It's so hard. I
pray so often and I promise....and I fail so often. It's not like I
don't try, I do. I just don't ever seem to
really succeed and get over it. If I can conquer this, I'll be
fine....I think.....I hope....maybe.
Lord, in your compassion you showed us how to overcome, not by
being above falling but by having the
grace to get up and continue when we know that we rise to face more of
the same. Do not let our
weakness fill us with disgrace so as to turn away from you. Rather, let
it show us your grace so that we
may depend upon you and know that in our weakness we are all the more
in need of you. Our Lord falls
the first time.
Station 4: Our Lord meets his mother.
I'm so sorry you had to see me this way.
It's nothing you've done, it's me. It's what I felt I had to do. I
know you don't understand, but knowing that I've hurt you is a far
greater burden than any cross I'll ever
bear. There are times when you hurt those that you love not because you
don't care, but because you do.
It hurts to say no. It's painful to love them so much and yet have to
stop them. It's frightening to risk
losing someone because you dare tell them the truth. One day, I hope
you will understand just how
much I love you and why I did the things I had to do. It's so hard to
hurt those that you love when we
have to make them realize that just being right doesn't justify
everything we do.
Lord, give me the strength to watch those that I love suffer.
Prevent me from foolishly thinking that I
can take away their suffering. Rather, give me the courage to endure in
order to make their suffering
redemptive. Out of our pain and out of our shame our God creates
virtues that never would have
existed had we not first suffered. Help me, Lord to let go, but to stay
close and to trust. Our Lord
meets his mother.
Station 5: Simon of Cyrene helps our Lord to carry his cross.
Oh, thank God for Simon. We never really
knew each other and weren't really that close. He just
happened to be there and God knows I sure needed a friend at the time.
The cross was not his to give,
and therefore not his to take away but he was there at the worst time,
the darkest hour, right behind me,
right beside me... to keep me going. Thank God for the Simons....who
had it not been for you, I would
not have made it. Or had it not been for you I probably would have gone
crazy. Simon is the one who,
when we get to the end of our rope....teaches us how to tie a knot and
in the darkest of nights, Simon
teaches how to wait with us til the day breaks. Simon shows us that
when God closes a door, he opens a
window. As unknown as he was, he was so crucial. Help us never to
refuse the Simons who just want
to help.
Lord, help us always to recognize and welcome the Simons of Cyrene.
Remove the pride in us that says,
"Look who's talking, I can do it myself. I don't need your help. It's
your problem, you get help." Let us
realize that Simon was there for you and you'll send him to us if only
we'll recognize him in our need.
Help us to realize that God works as he wills not only in the
convenient and the familiar. Simon of
Cyrene helps our Lord to carry his cross.
Station 6: Veronica wipes the face of our Lord.
Veronica was to the crucifixion what the
drummer boy was to the nativity. What she had, she gave. She
couldn't carry, she couldn't take away. But she could wipe his tears
with the only thing she had: her
towel. She used what she had. "I don't know what I can do, but if you
need me, call me. I'll be glad to
try. Come by for a cup of coffee. No, I don't have the answers, but I
do have a towel to dry your eyes as
you feel the pain of your searching." Look at all the faces who feel
they have so little to give. In their
eyes, we see doubt and in their hearts we see an endless sea of giving.
Veronica I'd love to but...if only I
were richer, if only I were smarter, if only I were healthier, if only
I had more time. Veronica never said
never.
Lord, give me the wisdom never to apologize for being who I am.
Give me the willingness, like
Veronica and the widow's mite, to know that any gift from you can never
be worthless. Fill our hearts
with a generous spirit and our minds with a searching eye to find our
way to show our gratitude by the
lives we live. Help me to realize that real happiness comes not when
you have everything you want, but
when you want everything you have. When I become grateful, then I
become aware...of God in our
midst. Veronica wipes the face of our Lord.
Station 7: Our Lord falls a second time.
It gets so I don't know why I even go to
confession. I repeat the same thing. I say and pray one thing,
and turn around and do just the opposite. I wonder if he gets tired of
all my empty promises. And me
of all people. If my husband, wife, kids really knew what I am I wonder
what they would think. And
how can I be so weak? How can God forgive someone who's like me? It
gets so at times, I'd just as
soon give up and quit trying and who am I trying to kid, anyway? How
can I say I'll never do it again?
If I'm honest, I have to admit I enjoy it. That's why I did it, then
why do I feel so guilty and how come I
never stop?
Father, help me to remember your great love for your son and help
me to realize that your son and
your son alone was above sin. Open my eyes to realize that you are the
only one that understands our
weakness. Fill us with the knowledge that you do not demand perfection,
only persistence. Give me the
grace to join the human race... not as my excuse, but as my consolation
and my courage to get up again
and again. Help me to realize that defeat lies not just in the loss,
but in the failure to try. Our Lord
falls a second time.
Station 8: Our Lord meets the women of Jerusalem.
How can I explain this to those who love
me so much? Those who looked up to me, trusted me,
respected me, and depended upon me so much? There's so many people who
only know one side of me. And it hurts so much when they see the cross,
the other side, and realize what I'm really like. It's almost
as if I'm two people. My head is filled with eyes heavenward, and my
shoes are filled with clay feet. For God's sakes, if only I could
become that which I profess to be...if I could preach what I practice
and
not try to practice what I preach, then I wouldn't be such a hypocrite.
Then there would be no cross to
hide, the cross of my anger or impatience or the weakness of my mind or
body. When those who trust
encounter my humanness, help me not to be discouraged, but determined.
Lord, there's so many faces for so many occasions. Help me to
define and face myself with a pure heart
so that I can search for the face of God in every person I meet. Give
me the grace to give to all in need
the strength and the courage that you have given to me. Let the belief
of those around me encourage me
to struggle so that I may become what you have called me to be.
Our Lord meets the women of Jerusalem.
Station 9: Our Lord falls a third time.
That's it, I quit! I give up. Strike 3,
you're out! How can I go on and on? It's too much, I'm through.
I'm spent. I'm tired of and going nowhere. Everytime I think it's gonna
be better, it happens again. I'm
tired of hurting and I'm tired of being hurt. I reach out in tenderness
to get slapped down in anger. I take
one step forward and two steps backward. I know you say not seven...
seventy times seven, but this is a
ridiculous, a bit much. Sometimes it would be a lot better if I just
gave up. I might be miserable, but I'd
be honest. I don't know what I'd be.
Lord, give me the strength to get up when my arms are too weary and
my heart has lost all hope. Let
me get up, brush off the dust, get out of bed, face the new day with
the hope that...no, I'm not perfect but
nor am I alone. Let me realize that I can love and possibly get hurt.
When I cease loving....I cease
living. Give me the courage to go on. Lord, help me to realize that
failing to try is giving up on you.
Our Lord falls a third time.
Station 10: Our Lord is stripped of His garments.
The truth is finally out! I've got
nothing to hide anymore. What they see is what they get. I've been
stripped of the pride, the arrogance, the position that I lauded over
them. There is no longer the title, the
money, the office, the car, the reputation to make me into someone that
I'm not. Now that they know
what I really am....how could anyone still love and care? I've had to
give it all up to forsake it and
follow you. All that I have myself and my pain. Now everyone knows who
and what I really am, I'm
scared. It's awfully cold when you're laid bare.
Lord, help me never use the gifts you have given me to belittle
others. Enable me to give them
something to live up to, not something to live down. Let me not be
afraid of what I am, but
humbled....humbled into knowing that as long as you're with me I need
not hide. I need only to clothe
myself with your love and your presence. In you and you alone I find
comfort and you know me and in
that I find protection. Our Lord is stripped of His garments.
Station 11: Our Lord is nailed to the cross.
It's not bad enough that I had to
suffer, be humiliated and embarrassed, there are those who still want
to
nail me to the wall. Who insist on saying, "look who's talking," who
will not let the past die...who will
make sure the sin is ever before me and oh, so visible. It seems as
though they only feel good about
themselves when the sins of others are in full view. They nail me with
their supposed innocence by
saying, "they say," "you know what I heard..." Whoever "they" are, they
are nameless and faceless --
who nail the sins of others on the doors of the church or hand someone
else the hammer and say, "It's
none of my business, but..." The nails are so sharp and the wounds so
deep.
Lord, remove the hammers of religious self-righteousness that
enable us to condemn with the
justification of, "well, it's true." Help us not to continue this
brutal act that places the sins of others
above their heads and before us all forever. Give us the courage to be
reconcilers, not crucifiers. Let
my own sins remind me of the need for consolation, not condemnation.
Our Lord is nailed to the cross.
Station 12: Our Lord dies on the cross.
The cross looks as though it's won, it's
over, the struggle is no more. The weight, the burden, the guilt,
the fear of being discovered....the pain of keeping afloat that which
has weighed me down for so long....
is ended. It'll be no more. I have to let go. It's the cross or me,
it's the bottle or my family. It's the
discipline or you're on your own. It's work together to be happy or be
miserable by yourself. It's a cross
that we've carried for so long, and father...it is finished. It'll have
to die, or it'll kill me. It may be
heavy, but it's familiar and it's hard to let go.
Lord, letting go is so hard. As painful as it was, I'm afraid to be
alone or without. If i let go, I may lose
them forever, but if I don't....what am I really holding onto? Father,
into your hands I commend my
spirit. Let me never be parted from you, but by your death and
resurrection bring me, Lord, to the joy
of a new life. Our Lord dies upon the cross.
Station 13: Our Lord is taken down from the cross.
Poor Mary, her only son....destined to
be the savior of the world upon whom the rise and fall of many
would come to rest. "And we had such great hopes for that boy." How
afraid she must be and how
painful to see someone you love so much so lifeless. So unfair....and
to be so alone. How can you save
someone from a death that had to come? How can we spare youth from the
mistakes of their
innocense? How can we protect them when they insist on the life that
only brings empty joys and
broken promises? it's so hard to just be there and pick them when they
fall. But nothing that I would
have said or done could have changed him. If you don't look, you'll
never touch. If you don't touch,
you'll never feel. If you don't feel, you'll never cry. And if you
don't cry, you'll never heal. But why
does it have to be that way?
Lord, our God, help us to love and not count the cost. Let us love
them enough to stop them; and if
not, let us love them even when they've gone too far. Let our love be a
decision, not an investment. Help
us to love even the unlovable, the ungrateful, and the unchangeable,
and let our final act of love enable
us to just be there when all we can do is just cradle them in our arms
and weep. Our Lord is taken
down from the cross.
Station 14: Our Lord is laid in the tomb.
How dark, how cold, how alone. The
funeral is over and everyone is gone. The house is so big. So
empty. And everywhere I look I think of them. The decision is made.
They know what the alternatives
are. They have to choose and I don't know what they're going to do. I
don't know if they will get help. I don't know if they will go for
treatment. Try as you might, there is no comfort for the unknown, and
there is no consolation among the undecided. I have to trust that death
was the right thing. And even
though the tomb has brought me darkness and doubt, I have to trust and
keep going. But it's so hard and
so cold and so dark and I'm so alone.
Lord, you probe me and you know me. You know my every thought and
you knew me in my mother's
womb. Give me the wisdom not to search for miracles but the grace to
realize that to the depths of
despair or to the height of the heavens, you are there to guide me and
guard me and you will bring me
through the darkest of nights to the dawn of a new day. Our Lord
is laid in his tomb.
Aaron
Neville & Fr. M. Jeffery Bayhi: Doing It Their Own Way
