On The Passion of Our Lord
Page 5
I
Meditation on the Ninth Station of the Cross:
Jesus Falls the Third Time
How hard that final rise was,
Step by step up the hill,
how hard you had to cling to life,
how hard you had to cling to consciousness,
hard hard each breath,
each jarring step.
Even with Simeon carrying your cross,
the ground came swoop up,
and you tasted the dust,
felt the pavement one last time,
falling one last time
to panic the centurion
into thinking you would die
before they could kill you..
Only your burning love
burning like an eternal flame
echoing down the ages
stood you up that last time,
pushing away
the effects of shock,
and dehydration
and beating,
to crest the hill
for your final glorification.
II
At the Foot of Your Cross
Lord,
here I am,
once again,
at the foot of your cross.
All around me are the howling winds,
the darkness.
Like the Magdalene,
I cling to your cross,
my only anchor,
and press my cheek
against its rough
and bloodstained wood.
Here is the only shelter I know
as the hurricane blows.
Here,
I look up into your eyes,
eyes filled with such an intensity of love
that I cannot fathom it,
and all the tears of my misery
pour out,
grief and guilt and remorse and sorrow,
for what we have done to you,
what I have done to you,
and what you have chosen to do for love.
What have I to give
equal to the glory of your love?
naked as I feel
beneath the light of your love,
Yet I wish to give it all -
my aching and sorrow, my hope,
my wisdom, my voice, my everything
all for you -
such a small offering in return
for what you have given,
but like the widow's mite,
thank you for letting me offer it.
Here,
at the foot of your cross,
let me make my stand,
now, and always.
III
Night In the Garden
O Lord,
how the garden was filled
with moonlight peaking through the shadows
that last night.
How you suffered -
your desire to escape,
your grief,
your sure knowledge was in store,
the weight of sin,
all shadows trying to wrap themselves around you,
and yet you stayed,
obeyed the Father's will,
and saved us all.
O Lord,
how today my life is filled
with dark shadow trying to cloak the light
you give me,
my garden experience.
O Lord,
I offer you up my sorrow,
my pain,
my grief at sin, and failure, and weakness,
my groaning under loads I don't know how to bear,
my forgetfulness of your kindness,
my longing for escape.
O my Lord,
I am such a weak person.
Hold my hand each step of the way
as I walk through this valley of the shadow of death,
and though I sorrow,
I will fear no evil
for in the end, I know the light,
your light,
will lead me home to you at last.
IV
This in the Name of Love
O my Lord,
what is man,
that you are mindful of him,
what is man,
that you would join him,
walk the earth along side of him,
taste the dust,
feel the heat,
experience the cold,
know the fatigue,
joy,
sorrow,
loss,
frustration,
and this in the name of love?
O my Lord,
what is man,
that you are mindful of him
that you would learn
to earn your bread
by work of your hands,
how it feels to grieve
at the loss of a parent,
to see the sorrow and fear
in the eyes of those who love you,
and to do this in the name of love?
O my Lord,
what is man,
that you would see his evil first hand,
feel the bite of it across your back,
know the pain of the torturer's art,
feel the blood flowing out of your body,
the bite of iron
tieing you to wood,
the breath that comes in ragged gulps,
harder and harder,
the indignity of a public death,
the death of a slave
or traitor,
and all this in the name of love?
O my Lord,
what is man,
that you would take upon your shoulders
all the sins
of an old and wicked race,
all the hate and greed and lust,
all the crime and anger and pride,
become so corrupt
for things you have not done,
that the weight of it
is incomprehensible,
and atone for it in your own blood,
and know so many
would walk away from you,
unmoved by what you would do
in the name of love?
In the folly of God's love
for a wayward mankind,
I am redeemed,
and bow down in grateful adoration.
Alleluia!
V
Thoughts on Gethsemani
Dear Lord,
at this time when
everything feels so empty, sad, useless,
and my mind, lying,
tells me I am alone,
unappreciated,
unwanted,
and the darkness tugs at my heart
like a hungry child who
aches for my attention
and won't take no for an answer,
I offer up my weakness to you,
and know
that I walk through the garden of olives
with you,
on that dark and endless night
while you waited.
O Lord,
so long I have wondered about that dark night,
where one by one,
your friends slept,
fled,
and could not share the waiting with you.
Thank you for sharing some of
the depths of sorrow,
sadness,
grief.
O Lord,
be thou my strength,
my wisdom,
my patience,
my light
my love,
and as your darkness ended with the glory of your
resurrection,
bring me home to you at last.
VI
On the Road to Jerusalem
It was a perilous road,
sometimes,
the road from Jericho,
the road to Jerusalem
through rough country.
And about you were
your followers,
who warmed themselves next to your holiness,
who thought they knew you,
who wanted you to be
their image of the holy one of God,
who heard you speak
and shaped it into their hearts' wishes.
How what was to come would shatter
this mold they were casting you in,
and give them something more they could not quite
comprehend.
They bickered sometimes,
jockying for favor and position,
as humans are always wont to do,
and yet you repeated
the same lessons over and over.
And now, it was time,
the last time you would walk this road,
the last time you would come to this feast.
Did you look at them fondly
as you walked the road to Jerusalem,
this motly crew of friends and followers,
weighing each of their strengths and faults,
how much they had grown,
how much more they would grow.
In the darkness that was to come,
you knew that they would be like steel
heated in the fire of your agony,
plunged into the waters of your death,
and polished by your resurrection,
and they would be the blade to spread your message
throughout the world.
Some would think it folly
to think that the world could be changed
by such a handful,
but you knew
that your words were in good hands.
VII
From Jericho to Jerusalem
Jesus!
How did you take that long road,
step by step,
mile by mile,
all the way from Jericho
to Jerusalem,
listening to your followers bicker,
seeing the crowd grow up
as you neared the city
and the festival time grew close,
knowing exactly what was awaiting you
that dark night
in the garden,
and at the hill the next day?
How did you not scream
in anger and angst
against the fate that awaited you,
a fate you gave your assent to,
a fate you knew would be so horrible
to carry out.
Ultimate Martyr,
witness to the Father's mercy
bought with your suffering,
ultimate sacrifice,
paying the price by your blood,
drop by drop.
how the Father glorified you,
and lifted you high,
all for love.
O burning flame of love,
that could motivate you forward
on that dusty road
from Jericho
to Jerusalem.
forgive me Lord,
when I forget
the depths of your love
and take it for granted,
when it was given freely
with such pain,
and care
and grief.
Meditation on the Ninth Station of the Cross:
Jesus Falls the Third Time
How hard that final rise was,
Step by step up the hill,
how hard you had to cling to life,
how hard you had to cling to consciousness,
hard hard each breath,
each jarring step.
Even with Simeon carrying your cross,
the ground came swoop up,
and you tasted the dust,
felt the pavement one last time,
falling one last time
to panic the centurion
into thinking you would die
before they could kill you..
Only your burning love
burning like an eternal flame
echoing down the ages
stood you up that last time,
pushing away
the effects of shock,
and dehydration
and beating,
to crest the hill
for your final glorification.
II
At the Foot of Your Cross
Lord,
here I am,
once again,
at the foot of your cross.
All around me are the howling winds,
the darkness.
Like the Magdalene,
I cling to your cross,
my only anchor,
and press my cheek
against its rough
and bloodstained wood.
Here is the only shelter I know
as the hurricane blows.
Here,
I look up into your eyes,
eyes filled with such an intensity of love
that I cannot fathom it,
and all the tears of my misery
pour out,
grief and guilt and remorse and sorrow,
for what we have done to you,
what I have done to you,
and what you have chosen to do for love.
What have I to give
equal to the glory of your love?
naked as I feel
beneath the light of your love,
Yet I wish to give it all -
my aching and sorrow, my hope,
my wisdom, my voice, my everything
all for you -
such a small offering in return
for what you have given,
but like the widow's mite,
thank you for letting me offer it.
Here,
at the foot of your cross,
let me make my stand,
now, and always.
III
Night In the Garden
O Lord,
how the garden was filled
with moonlight peaking through the shadows
that last night.
How you suffered -
your desire to escape,
your grief,
your sure knowledge was in store,
the weight of sin,
all shadows trying to wrap themselves around you,
and yet you stayed,
obeyed the Father's will,
and saved us all.
O Lord,
how today my life is filled
with dark shadow trying to cloak the light
you give me,
my garden experience.
O Lord,
I offer you up my sorrow,
my pain,
my grief at sin, and failure, and weakness,
my groaning under loads I don't know how to bear,
my forgetfulness of your kindness,
my longing for escape.
O my Lord,
I am such a weak person.
Hold my hand each step of the way
as I walk through this valley of the shadow of death,
and though I sorrow,
I will fear no evil
for in the end, I know the light,
your light,
will lead me home to you at last.
IV
This in the Name of Love
O my Lord,
what is man,
that you are mindful of him,
what is man,
that you would join him,
walk the earth along side of him,
taste the dust,
feel the heat,
experience the cold,
know the fatigue,
joy,
sorrow,
loss,
frustration,
and this in the name of love?
O my Lord,
what is man,
that you are mindful of him
that you would learn
to earn your bread
by work of your hands,
how it feels to grieve
at the loss of a parent,
to see the sorrow and fear
in the eyes of those who love you,
and to do this in the name of love?
O my Lord,
what is man,
that you would see his evil first hand,
feel the bite of it across your back,
know the pain of the torturer's art,
feel the blood flowing out of your body,
the bite of iron
tieing you to wood,
the breath that comes in ragged gulps,
harder and harder,
the indignity of a public death,
the death of a slave
or traitor,
and all this in the name of love?
O my Lord,
what is man,
that you would take upon your shoulders
all the sins
of an old and wicked race,
all the hate and greed and lust,
all the crime and anger and pride,
become so corrupt
for things you have not done,
that the weight of it
is incomprehensible,
and atone for it in your own blood,
and know so many
would walk away from you,
unmoved by what you would do
in the name of love?
In the folly of God's love
for a wayward mankind,
I am redeemed,
and bow down in grateful adoration.
Alleluia!
V
Thoughts on Gethsemani
Dear Lord,
at this time when
everything feels so empty, sad, useless,
and my mind, lying,
tells me I am alone,
unappreciated,
unwanted,
and the darkness tugs at my heart
like a hungry child who
aches for my attention
and won't take no for an answer,
I offer up my weakness to you,
and know
that I walk through the garden of olives
with you,
on that dark and endless night
while you waited.
O Lord,
so long I have wondered about that dark night,
where one by one,
your friends slept,
fled,
and could not share the waiting with you.
Thank you for sharing some of
the depths of sorrow,
sadness,
grief.
O Lord,
be thou my strength,
my wisdom,
my patience,
my light
my love,
and as your darkness ended with the glory of your
resurrection,
bring me home to you at last.
VI
On the Road to Jerusalem
It was a perilous road,
sometimes,
the road from Jericho,
the road to Jerusalem
through rough country.
And about you were
your followers,
who warmed themselves next to your holiness,
who thought they knew you,
who wanted you to be
their image of the holy one of God,
who heard you speak
and shaped it into their hearts' wishes.
How what was to come would shatter
this mold they were casting you in,
and give them something more they could not quite
comprehend.
They bickered sometimes,
jockying for favor and position,
as humans are always wont to do,
and yet you repeated
the same lessons over and over.
And now, it was time,
the last time you would walk this road,
the last time you would come to this feast.
Did you look at them fondly
as you walked the road to Jerusalem,
this motly crew of friends and followers,
weighing each of their strengths and faults,
how much they had grown,
how much more they would grow.
In the darkness that was to come,
you knew that they would be like steel
heated in the fire of your agony,
plunged into the waters of your death,
and polished by your resurrection,
and they would be the blade to spread your message
throughout the world.
Some would think it folly
to think that the world could be changed
by such a handful,
but you knew
that your words were in good hands.
VII
From Jericho to Jerusalem
Jesus!
How did you take that long road,
step by step,
mile by mile,
all the way from Jericho
to Jerusalem,
listening to your followers bicker,
seeing the crowd grow up
as you neared the city
and the festival time grew close,
knowing exactly what was awaiting you
that dark night
in the garden,
and at the hill the next day?
How did you not scream
in anger and angst
against the fate that awaited you,
a fate you gave your assent to,
a fate you knew would be so horrible
to carry out.
Ultimate Martyr,
witness to the Father's mercy
bought with your suffering,
ultimate sacrifice,
paying the price by your blood,
drop by drop.
how the Father glorified you,
and lifted you high,
all for love.
O burning flame of love,
that could motivate you forward
on that dusty road
from Jericho
to Jerusalem.
forgive me Lord,
when I forget
the depths of your love
and take it for granted,
when it was given freely
with such pain,
and care
and grief.
All Original Content Copyright © 2004
by Susan E. Stone