Catholic Meditations

Meditation on the Fourth Station of the Cross

Did you feel your heart
beating in your throat
as the crowd closed in,
the swolen passover crowd,
some jeering,
some just strangers trying to see
what was happening,
blocking your access,
blocking your view,
blocking you.

Did you struggle through the backways
to catch up,
the need to be there
like panic
burning in your heart,
pulling you and the others
like a magnet,
your son,
your light
your life.

And when you finally caught up,
and saw him,
sprawled out on the road,
rough hands trying
to yank him upright,
bloody,
beaten,
exhausted,
muscles trembling in their fatigue,
and your hands were unable
to soothe the wounds,
and ease the pain,
did your voice dry up
in your grief
and shock
and longing to do
what you knew you couldn't,
to stop it all -
this thing God asked for
this thing you knew your son wanted?

Birthpangs
bitterer than any childbirth
this sword piercing your heart
as in your silent, grieving yes,
you became mother to the church.

Susan E. Stone, 2oo5

Labels: Passion of Christ

Jesus,
you who love us
beyond the ken
of earthly wisdom,
who calls us home
even
the ugly,
the aching,
the miserable,
the cast off,
the poor,
the selfish,
the self-righteous,
the uncaring
enough to die
for each and every one,
here, watching God's folly,
I fall down on my knees
and adore you.

O Jesus,
son of Mary,
son of God,
who knew the taste of dust
on the road,
the feel of sweat on your forehead,
the bite of hunger
at the end of a long day,
the weight of wood,
smooth under a carpenter's hand,
rough against the back,
the anger of a mob,
the betrayal of friends,
the loneliness of suffering,
evil done in the name of justice,
the bitterness of a shameful death,
and still you loved us.

O Folly of God,
love beyond compare,
Emmanuel,
remember us this day,
weak,
--be our strength,
alone,
--be at our side,
hurting,
--be our healer,
in need
--be our help.
Open our hearts to you,
you who are all love,
whose heart is big enough
to hold the whole world
whose hands wait to lift us up
whose love waits to heal us,
whose peace can transform us.

Amen.

Encourage yourselves daily while it is still "today,"
so that none of you may grow hardened by the deceit of sin. Hebrews 3:13



O Lord,
let us hear your voice today,
soft and smiling,
gentle,
sincere,
clear,
angry
or sad,
today
in the minutes you have gifted us with,
in the time
which is a tribute to you,
of the room
you have give us
to maneuver in
now,
while time makes sense,
and we are wrapped up in potential
and possiblity
and reality.

O Lord,
your voice echos in and out
of the winds,
surrounding us,
with their gentle singing,
stinging us
with the intensity of their truth,
soothing us
with the beauty of your love.
O Lord,
let it enter our hearts, NOW.
let it enter our minds NOW
let it pierce through the daylight
and bloom in our midnight
and soften us,
and enwrap us
in the reality of your love
until we become the ones
you long to transform us to.

O Lord,
let us not harden our hearts,
save us from the desert
of our own bitterness,
our own hate,
our own sin,
our own anger,
our own loathing
our own Meribah,
our own Massah,
lost in the darkness,
never to know your rest,
alone,
always,
out of time.

O Lord!

Susan E. Stone, 2005

Labels: Discipleship

How dark,
how quiet,
save for the beating of her heart,
quickened
with the angel's greeting,
and her determined yes,
and the touch of the Spirit,
then suddenly,
in a moment unwatched
by any mortal eye,
there was fusion
between heaven and earth,
and a moment later,
division,
such a tiny speck,
Lord of the universe
emptied out,
master of time and space
contained
in a zygote.

Incarnation,
limitless spirit
taking on mortal flesh,
encased in the warm darkness,
quietly pulsing
with the beating of her heart.

Thank you Lord,
for sanctifying
our little human life
from conception until death
by your choice of being
Emmanuel,
Our God with Us.

Amen.

Susan E. Stone, 2005

Forget
the pie crust promises
and santa claus wishes
passing itself off
as truth in the name
of what's holy.
In the darkness of confusion,
here, then, up on the ridge
where all men can see,
is the truth,
a burning torch,
where heaven
and earth meet,
cruciform,
embracing,
one
who is true God
and true man
offering all
for love.

Transformation, then,
is the gift
in the fire
of a God
who held nothing back for love.
Hold on to the wood,
rough hewn,
blood stained,
and look into those eyes,
and if you let them pierce your heart,
like the spear would pierce his,
you will be reborn,
reshaped
breath by breath
step by step
until you can be
truly his,
a lantern
shining in the darkness
filled with his light.



Susan E. Stone, 2005

Like a whisper
hidden
behind a wall of noise,
like a rose
hidden in a forgotten garden,
like a pearl
buried,
precious, unseen,
there you lived your life, Mary,
only briefly
letting us see
your smiling face,
hear your soft voice,
witness your faith,
unwavering,
total.

Sweeping,
and sewing
and scrubbing
and caring,
and loving,
and praying,
one long yes
to the call of the Father,
to the actions of the Son,
to the promptings of the Spirit.

O Mary,
pray for me
that in the daily
I may find God,
that in my weariness
I may say yes,
and in the end,
like you,
I will be willing
to give my God my all.

Amen.

Susan E. Stone, 2005