Jesus Falls a Second Time

The Seventh Station

Jesus Falls a Second Time

"Come to me, all who labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me; for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light."   (Matthew 11.28-30)

I sit in an internet cafe, sipping a beer, hoping that my film uploads by midnight. If I really want to be honest about how I feel spiritually, I'd say that I am in a desert. Uninspired. Yet, somehow, while feeling like this, I still have moments when I am acutely aware of God and His presence. It's not a feeling or a sensation, it's just a “knowing”. It is like when I was a child and something frightened me in the night. I'd run as fast as I could through the dark passage way “knowing” that my mum was at the end of it and I would be safe there but that didn't take away the fear as I passed through the darkness... but it is what kept me running!

I keep pushing forward in this spiritual journey, praying that I will be granted the grace I need to “endure to the end” and that God will allow me to be fully aware of His love for me, or, should I say, open my heart and mind to realise how much He loves me.

Once again, Christ had me on His mind as He hit the ground a second time. He was aware of the lack of love, the lukewarmness, the doubts that would pass through my heart and perhaps that convicted Him even more to finish His mission because He knew that without His sacrifice, all would perish.

Christ, grant me that strength of endurance to keep on running the race and help me to draw strength from your cross, so that, even though I am so unworthy of Your love, I may one day come into the fullness of it, in You, my Lord.

Amen.

Veronica Wipes the Face of Jesus

Station Six

Veronica Wipes the Face of Jesus

"Plaiting a crown of thorns they put it on his head, and put a reed in his right hand. And kneeling before him they mocked him, saying, "Hail, King of the Jews!" And they spat upon him, and took the reed and struck him on the head. And when they had mocked him, they stripped him of the robe, and put his own clothes on him, and led him away to crucify him." (St. Matthew 27.29-31)

There is something about this station that always speaks to me. Just the thought of Veronica, emerging from the crowds to wipe Jesus' face, stirs a compassion deep within me. 
 

It's been a long day and I have only got to this blog now. I've spent the day in front of my laptop editing my film and have finally got the first cut done. I went with a friend to stations of the cross in the evening which was a much needed respite. It wasn't at my usual parish and so when I arrived and found there was a Mass before the stations, I was pleasantly surprised. I found myself having to switch into “Mass gear” but realised that I needn't do such a thing and being “out of gear” was probably a better and more honest approach. I was tired and I didn't feel stirred or moved by the liturgy but afterwards I knew that regardless of what I felt, just by being there, I had participated in something miraculous. I suppose, just like Veronica wiping the face of Jesus, receiving the Eucharist today unexpectedly has been an amazing gift, even if I am not fully aware of it.

Let us pray:
O Jesus , in this mirror of suffering, I also seek your face ...
O my Jesus, my suffering Savior, I see your face and I meet understanding, as I see my own pain and suffering reflected as if in a mirror.
I see, too, the faces of suffering humanity, waiting for a Veronica to show compassion and love.
Beauty is never hidden from those who love, they embrace the total person in the other.

"Lord I seek your face, hide not your face from me."

Simon Helps Jesus Carry the Cross

"And spitting upon him, they took the reed, and struck his head. And after they had mocked him, they took off the cloak from him, and put on him his own garments, and led him away to crucify him. And going out, they found a man of Cyrene, named Simon: him they forced to take up his cross." (St. Matthew 27.30-32)

The Fifth Station

Simon Helps Jesus Carry the Cross

I took a jammie shuttle today. It was peak hour traffic, pouring with rain and I needed to get to Rondebosch. Technically, I shouldn't be taking the jammie because I am not a UCT student but it is close, convenient, efficient and safe. Everything the public transport systems are not. Anyway, that's all besides the point. It took us about forty five minutes to get to upper campus by which stage, it was storming! I ran out to the bus shelter and stood there. It hardly made a difference seeking refuge because the wind was so strong that it was pretty much raining sideways. Finally, the rain died down a bit and I decided to take my chances. I started walking down the road and just ahead of me, coming the other way, was a girl (a student). She was barefoot and limping slightly and looked miserable. I considered whether I should ask if she was okay. I hesitated, but then decided I should. “Are you okay?” She stopped and said, “Not really.” I asked where she was going and she said she was just going to catch a jammie and then said, “thank you for asking.” and walked on. I realised that just my asking had meant something to her. Making that effort. So often I don't. It's amazing how easily I can switch off to the suffering of others and not just in relation to homeless people but to the people I pass everyday on the street. I remember once passing a girl sitting on the side of the road, her scooter on the ground next to her, broken. She had clearly had an accident and she was holding her ankle. I walked past thinking, oh, she looks fine, she's probably called someone to help already and I went on my way. Thinking back to that, I can't believe what I did. What if she had no phone? I didn't know if she had fallen off ten minutes or thirty seconds ago. Maybe she had no one to help her. Just to go out of my way for five seconds to ask if she was okay or if she needed help wouldn't have been the slightest inconvenience to me in the grand scheme of things but yet I didn't bother.

Simon of Cyrene was forced to carry Jesus' cross. Sometimes there are crosses that I don't want which I have to bear but other times I feel there are crosses that others need help with and I should step in gladly to help. But, most times, I'm afraid of disrupting my little world, emerging from my little bubble. I pray that God will give me that grace of compassion and caring so that I can be a Simon of Cyrene to those struggling with burdens too great to bear.

Jesus Meets His Mother, Mary

"Simeon blessed them and said to Mary his mother, "Behold, this child is set for the fall and rising of many in Israel, and for a sign that is spoken against and a sword will pierce through your own soul also, that thoughts out of many hearts may be revealed."  (St. Luke 2.34-35)

The Fourth Station

Jesus Meets His Mother, Mary

This makes me think back to one of the key moments in my reconversion to the faith. It was the moment when I met Mary on my road to the Church and when I realised that she was my mother too.

It must have been about October or November 2010. I was in a bad place in my life. My heart was bitter, I was full of resentment but I thought I was doing okay. I was trying to pull myself out of this mire I found myself in, I wanted to be happy. But it was easier said then done and with out the grace of Christ, was darn near impossible. I had been doing RCIA and had found myself enraptured by what I had discovered in the teachings of the Church. It was that feeling of knowing I had found the truth but perhaps, as much as I knew I was on the right track now, I wasn't ready to fully surrender to it.

I had always been a skeptic of the Church's teachings on Mary. I had inherited this view from the “general consensus”, the outsiders perspective of the Church. I didn't understand it and I was afraid of it. But I had reached a stage of my journey where my heart had been softened enough to open me up to trying to see what all the fuss was about.

I can remember I was in Mass and on this particular evening I was feeling very bitter and very resentful and I didn't want to anymore. I was tired, I just wanted to let go. The Mass was beautiful but as we sang the recessional hymn, I looked over at the tabernacle and I felt something tell me I needed to light a candle. As everyone filed out I went over to the candles and lit one. I placed it down, then knelt in front of the tabernacle. I closed my eyes and said, “Okay, I'm going to give this a shot.” At this stage I really didn't know what or why I was doing this, my heart was full of doubt. I continued, “Mary, please intercede for me and pray that I may be filled with peace and that all this resentment and bitterness will be removed from my heart.” As I said the words an indescribable feeling of peace swept through me. All the heaviness on my heart fell away and I felt light. So unbelievably light. I floated out of the church on a cloud and that feeling stayed with me for a good couple of days. She had heard my prayer and had obtained for me that grace. What a milestone in my journey. Almost the sealing that needed to take place to make me sure that I was on the right track. I knew then that I was loved.

I know this doesn't relate directly to my day but as I reflected on the station, this story came to mind. When Jesus met His mother on the road to Golgotha, I'm sure He drew strength from her. And how strong must her heart have been to see her son in such a state and how great her faith was to acknowledge that God had a greater plan. So it was, on my journey, that I drew strength from her, the mother that Christ gave me as He hung on the cross.

Today we finished shooting my short film. I am pretty exhausted but I feel content and proud of everyone who helped out and pulled through on getting it together in such a short amount of time. As I sign off I think about that moment when Christ and Mary met on the road that day and wonder at the love that was exchanged between them, what an image. True surrender and true acceptance. And just as Simeon prophesied, a sword must have pierced her soul as her eyes met her son's. It must have taken everything she had to let Him go that day and not throw herself before the Romans to be taken in His place.

Pray for us, O holy Mother of God.

That we may be made worthy of the promises of Christ. 

Written prayer

O, Holy Mother, you carried Christ to us.

Pray, that now, we may carry Christ to others as you did, so humbly, to us.

amen

Jesus Falls the First Time

 The Third Station

Jesus Falls the First Time

"Surely he has borne our grief's and carried our sorrows; yet we esteemed him stricken, smitten by God, and afflicted. But he was wounded for our transgressions, he was bruised for our iniquities; upon him was the chastisement that made us whole, and with his stripes we are healed."  (Isaiah 53.4-5)

In the business of the day sometimes it's hard to let my thoughts fall to Christ. In the rush and the excitement, my self involvement reaches it's utmost heights. Yet, He is there with me. Loving me, holding me and guiding me. And though I can't spare a moment for Him in the chaos of my day, He had me in His heart on that dusty street in Jerusalem when His knees hit the ground and the weight of the cross became too much to bear.

I filmed the first half of a short movie I am directing today and it went so well. Thanks be to God.

I often wonder about my profession. It is a wonderful medium, film and it is an extremely powerful art form. It can change hearts and minds. And so, it is also very dangerous. When I look back on a day of shooting, like today, I wonder where, in all that commotion, God is.

Is this His will for me? I think it is. But I pray I never forget that He wants me to do it for Him and that I may put my talents to His service always.

Let us pray:

Lamb of God, I no longer can number my sins ... which of them brought you first to your knees? Which sin was so laden with evil that you stumbled beneath it and fell to the ground? Was it the ponderous weight of hatred in my heart that caused your knees to buckle? Which voluptuous night? Which day of unbridled insolence? Was it the day I struck you when I struck down my brother? The day I throttled a debtor to reclaim what was never mine? Which day, my Lord? Which sin? They are without number and I am seized with grief – could I but atone for this one ... this one that brought you to the ground.

The world applauded as you fell ... endlessly through the empty corridors of my life that end abruptly now, here at your knees.

Did you see my feet before you as you lay on the ground? Did you look up on my indifference, bloodied and dazed?

I know you did! I saw you! Homeless and ravaged with addiction, you laid at my feet and looked up at me from the squalor of my selfishness, uttering no word of reproach – as I stepped over you on my way to work. I have seen your eyes a thousand times ... from doorways and dumpsters ... and a thousand times I passed you by.

For all my grief on this first fall you know ... you know that falling once will not suffice. I have brought the very Son of God to His knees ... and still it will not do! Still I am not convinced, that you will pour your life out in your love ... for me. You must topple this god I have made of myself, vanquish this idol again and again. I will see if yet you love me so!

What will it take?

But I will follow you ... to see if so you love me still – despite my countless sins that press you down against the pavement of my hardened heart.

Could one fall suffice, I would never have sinned again ...

O, Pie, Jesu, Domine ... !

Jesus takes up His Cross

It turns out today is the Solemnity of the Feast of the Annunciation because it fell on a Sunday. Sorry about that!

The Second Station

Jesus takes up His Cross

 

And he said to all, "If any man would come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross daily and follow me. For whoever would save his life will lose it; and whoever loses his life for my sake, he will save it. For what does it profit a man if he gains the whole world and loses or forfeits himself? (St. Luke 9.23-25)

When I woke up this morning I wondered what I would say in tonight's blog. I knew I didn't want to "pre-think" anything and rather wanted the experiences of the day to dictate what I wrote. So, I tried not to think about it at all.... Don't think of a white elephant...

I knew what the station was, however and I felt that that was fair. That way I could see how my experiences of the day related to the station. But, turns out today was a pretty good day. There was no carrying my cross or bearing my burden! I went to early morning Mass with a friend and then went off and spent the day rehearsing with my actors for a film I am directing over the next two days. And that was a lot of fun! Not to give you the lowdown of the whole day but the evening was also really special and ended with me riding a bike down Kloof Nek to go pick up a camera rig for my shoot tomorrow! 

I guess what I can take from this is that my life is truly blessed. I have my health, I have friends, I have a roof over my head, I am doing what I love and I am Catholic! The challenge, I suppose, when I am in a time of "plenty", is to help others bear their crosses. And it's always good to acknowledge what I do have and how I can use that for others.

One thing that did strike me today was in Mass (the second time round (because I went again as part of RCIA tonight)) there was a visiting priest. I knew the priest as I used to attend the Parish he presided over a few years ago and seeing him reminded me of where I have come from in the last few years and how "taking up my cross" and following Christ has led me to a place I never could have imagined back then. (He is an awesome priest by the way)

I'm afraid I don't have anything more than that but that's the way it goes, I suppose. Once again, I'll end with St.Clare's prayer for this station.

Let us pray:

Lord Jesus, in this mirror, in this picture, I see the unfathomable, the unspeakable depth of your love for me. There were none to defend you from the hatred of the world when you stood silently, uttering no abuse and covered in shame. Our shame. Surrendering to the Father, you embraced us in the cruel wood of the Cross –while we surrendered to fear and abandoned you. You watched us flee, even as our sins rushed in upon you. That emblem of ignominy, rough-hewn, sin-saturated and fraught with such torment, you did not push away although a Legion of Angels stood at your call. How the world trembled around you! Angels and men!

You had lost so much blood! How could you have borne it? The way to the height of that sad summit of suffering was a gauntlet of pain and abuse, mockery, derision, and violence to your flesh – and still, still you choose the Cross? Alike, we who fled, and those who stayed – we, who took no violence to our flesh, and they who brought such violence to yours ... alike we bore down upon you as insufferable weight in the Cross. You could have fled, called down your Angels, passed through their midst – but you stayed because of us, as we fled because of you.

And still you stay!  – in the Most Holy Sacrifice of the Mass, in the Most Blessed Sacrament of the Altar!

And still we flee you! Fearing violence to our desires through submission to grace; fearing that same guilt by association that would call us, in you, to hold fast to our vows, fleeing the hatred of the world that would rush in upon us as our own sins rushed in upon you.

From afar we watch you stagger as our Cross is thrown upon you. Blinded by spittle and blood, buffeted on every side, you begin to wend your way into our lives. "Greater love hath no man ..." You know that we will come, one day, to understand this and through your example hold fast against the withering hate of this world.

Give me, O, Christ, to become like unto Thee, to take my first steps through that gauntlet of grace that leads me beyond that suffering height ... that I may die for Thee ... as Thou hast died for me! 

PS: Apologies for posting so late!

Jesus is Condemned to Death

25 March 2012

Feast of the Annunciation of the Blessed Virgin Mary

And in response, the Angel said to her: “The Holy Spirit will pass over you, and the power of the Most High will overshadow you. And because of this also, the Holy One who will be born of you shall be called the Son of God. - Gospel According to Luke, Chapter 1, Verse 35.

Hello everyone. I'm sitting in my room on Sunday evening. It's the 25^th of March and it is the Feast of the Annunciation. A crucifix hangs on my wall just in front of me and something tells me that while I write this blog, I need to keep my eyes fixed on it. This is the first post of a fifteen part series I want to do on the Stations of the Cross. I will post every evening for the next fourteen days leading up to Easter Sunday. Each day I will post the station and a reflection on my day past. The hope for me is that it will help me grow spiritually and better prepare me for the Easter celebration. At the same time, I'd like to share the experience with anyone who is interested in taking the journey with me.

I had the idea a few weeks ago but my enthusiasm for it had trickled away over the days of Lent. However, today, something (the Holy Spirit) prompted me to think about it again. I saw a reminder on my phone and low and behold I had set today as my day to start. I also received a facebook message a few days ago from a friend asking if I would like to write a blog to share on his Catholic networking site. In light of these events I really feel like I'm supposed to do this.

Here we go:

The First Station

Jesus is Condemned To Death

"So when Pilate saw that he was gaining nothing, but rather that a riot was beginning, he took water and washed his hands before the crowd, saying, "I am innocent of this man's blood; see to it yourselves." And all the people answered, "His blood be on us and on our children!" Then he released for them Barab'bas, and having scourged Jesus, delivered him to be crucified."  (St. Matthew 27.24-26)

This Lent has been a terrible one for me. I started with lukewarm commitment and have continued in much the same manner throughout. I didn't give up anything (which is fine) but I had resolved to take on something. Something meaningful. I had wanted to volunteer at an old age home or a homeless shelter but, what do you know, I never got round to it.

I planned to fast twice a week but this turned out to be a half hearted affair. I have found my faith deeply challenged this Lent. Doubts have arisen, I have been spiritually lazy and unable to focus in prayer, but one thing has bugged me the most.

My indifference to the needy.

I realised at the start of the season, that what was important was not the giving up of things but what I could do to help others. I had posted Isaiah 58, verses 5 to 7 on Facebook, which talks about loosing the “chains of injustice” and untying the “cords of the yoke”. I thought I was being very clever.

Today I got my wake up call. Which makes it all the more fitting for me to have started this blog today. I had made my way to Rondebosch in the morning for Mass. The Gospel reading had been the raising of Lazarus (John 11: 1-45). Fitting. In many ways (you'll see why later). After Mass, I spent the day with a good friend of mine. We watched Ridley Scott's Alien and then I grabbed a mini-bus back to town. I walked up Long Street and then up Kloof Street and something struck me. There were so many beggars. Anyone who has walked around Cape Town CBD will know there is no shortage of panhandlers, petty thieves and homeless people but today there just seemed to be a multitude. When asked for money, I did my usual shake of the head with the mumbled, “sorry.” I pressed on up Kloof and I was just passing Nandos when I spotted a boy (he looked like a boy but he could have been in his late teens) walking slowly towards me. He was wearing ripped jeans and shredded shoes, his top was caked with dirt from nights on the street but what hit home was the look on his face. He was staring blankly ahead, his face was gaunt, the grooves in his cheeks where highlighted by smudges of dirt and his eyes were glazed over. He may have been high but I could see, even beyond that, that he had lost his will to live. It was very sad. I watched him walk past and more shockingly, I walked on. Suddenly a huge weight pressed on my chest. How could I have just let him walk by? I walked on but the weight grew heavier and I knew I needed to pray. I stopped by the Villa Maria adoration chapel and knelt down and pleaded for the boy. As much as I hope that these prayers were effective I knew I had missed a calling to help him; to do something for him. Our Parish priest had just been talking about raising and unbinding those people who have suffered a death of the heart (he had related this to the raising of Lazarus) by being Christ to those people. Merely a few hours later I had failed to do that.

How does this relate to today's station? Just as Pilate washed his hands of Jesus, how often do I wash my hands of those who need my help? How often do I shirk the responsibilty in the hopes that someone else will take care of it? Today I did. I feel St.Clare's prayer for this station sums up my feelings adequately and so I will leave you with that but before I do, to add a positive element to this post; all the events that transpired today led me to actually writing this. I wouldn't have done it otherwise and so God works His ways to bring me back to Him and to reveal His Mercy and who knows, perhaps I can take the last 14 days of Lent and make them count.

Let us pray:

Lord, have mercy on us, for none of us are innocent. In this mirror allow me to see where I have denied you, where I have refused to take responsibility, feared involvement in the suffering of others, turned away at the cost of the innocent. Lord, grant me the grace, the courage, to face suffering, to stand as a reed against towering Cedars that would crush the blameless, to contend with evil knowing that my failure to find my outrage is my complicity in it. Too, teach me humility, my God, in knowing that were I there, I would have denied You, fled you, too ... because I deny you, flee you, each time I choose sin over you. May this be so no more.

Judgment is no more mine than it was Pilate's. Lord, open my heart to pray for all those condemned to die.

Am I not numbered among them?

PS: This post is longer than the length I have planned for all the others.