Stations of the Cross

The Palestine of Jesus course ended with our walking the Stations of the Cross at 6am on Thursday. We were led by the Rev. Canon John Peterson, former Secretary General of the Worldwide Anglican Communion. Our early departure meant we had the streets of the Old City mostly to ourselves, a real treat and a key factor in our ability to fully immerse in the experience.

I was glad to hear after we finished, that I wasn't the only skeptic in the group. I awoke at 5:15, tired from the events of the previous week-and-a-half, and thought to myself, "sure, we're doing the Stations of the Cross" but I didn't expect much in the way of emotion or intensity to the morning. I didn't put kleenex in my purse. Silly Kerri.

We worked out the night before who would read the prayers at each station and we were left to decide in the moment who would carry the cross between stations.

I read the prayers at Station 2, where Jesus takes up his cross:
     So they took Jesus; and carrying the cross by himself, he went out to what is called The Place of the Skull, which in Aramaic is called Golgatha. - John 19:16b-17

We prayed for those required to carry out death sentences and corporal punishment, for those who do or are mocked or tormented, victims of violence and those living under military occupation, and that any suffering we endure may be fruitful for ourselves and others.

At Station 4, where Jesus meets his mother, we reflected on our commonality - that we have all been mothered and we can related to the bond between Jesus and Mary. We can relate to a mother's agony in watching a child suffer. And this station offers an opportunity to lift up the difficult times we have had with our own mothers--when relationships have been strained, when we have been hurt or when we have hurt. And we lift up in joy and thanksgiving, the times of joy and happiness we've had with our mothers. We give thanks for all who have mothered us and we say both 'I'm sorry' and 'Thank you.'

Something about this station said to me I was ready to carry the cross. I don't use Spirit language often, but this was probably the most distinct moment in my life where I could relate to the language "the Spirit moved me."

I picked up the cross and started the short walk (about 60m). The cross carrier walks out in front of the group alone, leading them on to the next station. I was struck by something the Ven. PJ Hobbs said to me during my pastoral practice placement. He said we all die alone. At the time, I didn't agree. But here I was thinking of a man who 2000 years ago carried a cross beam through the streets of Jerusalem on his way to a most painful and humiliating death, and he was certainly alone. Despite meeting his mother, despite Simon of Cyrene helping him carry the beam, despite Veronica wiping his face, he bore that burden alone.


And my throat caught and my eyes welled and I sobbed in the middle of the street feeling that loneliness.

At the 14th station, inside the Church of the Resurrection, inside the chapel of Joseph of Arimathea, are empty tombs. They stand as representative of the empty tomb after Jesus' resurrection. It is the only church that hosts an empty tomb. It's emptiness stands to help us make sense and meaning of our lives. We stood before it, confessing our feelings, anxiety, sorrow, lonliness, emptiness. Remembering how we treated parents, family, friends, neighbours and God. And we sought hope and forgiveness and released ourselves of any guilt or pain.

Safe to say, no one left unmoved or without tears, most of which were streaming.

** We brought little with us for this journey, especially no cameras so little could distract us (the pictures here are pilfered from online). We walked in silence. City employees working in the street made way for us and ceased their work while we prayed. We were joined by two tourists/pilgrims who understood, even in our silence, that they were welcome in our journey.