Before the station, pray: I adore you, O Christ, and I bless you, because by your holy cross, you have redeemed the world.

Read Luke 23: 52-53
This man went to Pilate and asked for the body of Jesus. Then he took it down, wrapped it in a linen cloth, and laid it in a rock-hewn tomb where no one had ever been laid.

It is indeed over. There is a sickening finality to it all. Why did it have to end like this? Why did it have to end at all? We were just beginning to understand. We were just beginning to get what we were supposed to be doing. And now it is over. And then there’s this darkness. It’s never been this dark at this time of day. It adds to the pall of our souls. We have to go back now. But to what? After all, deep down we know that he changed us. How can we live now in the world? How can we go back? And yet, in this moment of our deepest despair, we remember that we have found love. Life will be different because we have found love.

Father, forgive.

Jesus, I do not like endings. I was just getting comfortable. I want to go back—to mangers, and stars, and picnics on the hillside. Your love, though, tells me to go on. Give me strength to walk in that love even in the midst of grief, to walk in the light even in the shadows. Amen.

Before the station, pray: I adore you, O Christ, and I bless you, because by your holy cross, you have redeemed the world.

Then Jesus gave a loud cry and breathed his last. And the curtain of the temple was torn in two, from top to bottom. Now when the centurion, who stood facing him, saw that in this way he breathed his last, he said, “Truly this man was God’s son!”

“It is finished.” As Jesus breathed his last, the temple curtain tore in two, revealing a new world in which holiness was no longer separate and hidden from view. Trembling and shaking in the darkness, the earth opened to reveal a glimpse of a future yet to be. And through our grief and tears, God entered the heartbreak and brokenness of the world and began recreating it. In this moment, God’s future enters our present. And in the most unfathomable act of love, the cross becomes God’s highest act of Creation. Because with it, we and all of Creation are made new. That which is finished is the beginning of life. In this moment, our own eternity is conceived.

Were the whole realm of nature mine, That were an offering far too small; Love so amazing, so divine, demands my soul, my life, my all. (Isaac Watts, UMH # 298)

Father, forgive.

Jesus, Through my tears and my grief, I see your love flowing into the world. Enable me to be an instrument of that love that all may know the amazing love that I feel. Amen.

Before the station, pray: I adore you, O Christ, and I bless you, because by your holy cross, you have redeemed the world.

Read Mark 15: 22-33
Then they brought Jesus to the place called Golgotha (which means the place of a skull). And they offered him wine mixed with myrrh; but he did not take it. And they crucified him…

It is here that our regrets sink in. It is here that we want to go back. We would do it differently next time. We would not ask so many questions as to why he was doing what he was doing and to whom. We would just watch and listen and learn from him how to love. We would not fight and grapple with each other over who was in charge, over who was the most important, over who was his favorite. Instead, we would bask in his spirit and his radiance and his love of equality for all. And when asked if we knew who he was, we would not betray him. Rather, we would step forward no matter the cost. But we cannot go back.

The sounds are deafening. The clanging rings out over the land and settles into our hearts. A nail of greed. A nail of selfishness. Nails of betrayal and hatred and war. Nails of hunger and poverty. Nails of not accepting and loving each other. Nails of being so sure of one’s beliefs, so sure of one’s understanding of who God is and who God wants us to be, that we miss what God is trying to show us. It is finished. In the Name of Jesus Christ, you are forgiven. Father, forgive.

Jesus, I have many regrets in my life, even though I know that you offer forgiveness for all. Open that path of forgiveness that I may forgive myself and accept what you offer. Amen.

Before the station, pray: I adore you, O Christ, and I bless you, because by your holy cross, you have redeemed the world.

Read John 19: 23-25
…They took his clothes and divided them into four parts… They also took his tunic; now the tunic was seamless, woven in one piece from the top. So they said to one another, “Let us not tear it, but cast lots for it to see who will get it.” This was to fulfill what the scripture says, “They divided my clothes among themselves, and for my clothing they cast lots.” And that is what the soldiers did.

As a Jew, Jesus has been taught never to be seen naked. In those terms, this would be the ultimate disgrace. But Jesus’ disgrace is ours. His nakedness is ours. Stripped of his clothes and his dignity, Jesus remains unashamed. We can only ask God’s forgiveness for those times that we striped others of their dignity and we realize that as the accoutrements of this life are stripped away, we have nowhere to turn but to God.

The other part of this is that Jesus was stripped of his garments, of everything that he knew. He was humiliated but he was also humbled. We, too, are called to humble ourselves before God, to, in essence, strip everything away so that God can make us new.

It is late morning on that day. Jesus has been stripped of all human dignity. And the cross is being prepared. This is the final hour. Father, forgive.

Jesus, Strip me now of all those things that get in the way of my being one with you. May my life become purely what you would have me be. Amen.

Before the station, pray: I adore you, O Christ, and I bless you, because by your holy cross, you have redeemed the world.

Read Matthew 27: 27-31
Then the soldiers of the governor took Jesus into the governor’s headquarters…They stripped him and put a scarlet robe on him, and after twisting some thorns into a crown, they put it on his head. They put a reed in his right hand and knelt before him and mocked him, saying, “Hail, King of the Jews!”…Then they led him away to crucify him.

For us, we sense that this is a grand procession, but in all truth, this was a common occurrence in that time: the poor criminal, already rejected by society, being dragged to a death that he or she must deserve. And this was the eve of Passover—a busy time to say the least. After all, there were errands to be done and food to be prepared and houses to clean. So think of all the passersby, scurrying through their lives, many complaining about the clogged roads because of the procession. Many would have just passed by on the other side of the road, not wanting to touch or be touched by hopelessness and despair and even death.

We, too, fall whenever we pass by on the other side. We miss the grace that God offers in the touch of the unexpected. We miss the opportunity to be who God calls us to be. Father, forgive.

Jesus, I often pass by on the other side of your grace. I often close my life to the opportunities that you reveal. May my life become one of compassion for others in your Name. Amen.

Before the station, pray: I adore you, O Christ, and I bless you, because by your holy cross, you have redeemed the world.

Read Luke 23: 27-31
A great number of the people followed him, and among them were women who were beating their breasts and wailing for him. But Jesus turned to them and said, “Daughters of Jerusalem, do not weep for me, but weep for yourselves and for your children. For the days are surely coming when they will say, “Blessed are the barren, and the wombs that never bore, and the breasts that never nursed. Then they will begin to say to the mountains, Fall on us’, and to the hills, ‘Cover us.’ For if they do this when the wood is green, what will happen when it is dry?”

The women were convinced of Christ’s holiness. And this holy man was bleeding, covered in sweat and dirt, and near death. But he was still holy. Christ tells them not to weep for him, but for themselves, for their children, and for the world. If we weep, we weep for the world. Weeping, is itself a form of prayer for the world around us.

Just outside the gates of the city, Jesus opens himself to the world. He knows that the world will hurt; he knows that the world will suffer; he knows that the world pits brother against brother and poverty against greed. He knows that the world will weep. In our humanity, we weep, and in our tears, we drown, and in our work and in our life and in our faith, we find the hope for a world yet to be. Father, forgive.

Jesus, I weep—for my own self, for my church, for the world. May my tears become drops of nourishment and waters of life as I claim our part in bringing Creation into full being in your name. Amen.

Before the station, pray: I adore you, O Christ, and I bless you, because by your holy cross, you have redeemed the world.

Read Matthew 27: 27-31
Then the soldiers of the governor took Jesus into the governor’s headquarters, and they gathered the whole cohort around him. They stripped him and put a scarlet robe on him, and after twisting some thorns into a crown, they put it on his head. They put a reed in his right hand and knelt before him and mocked him, saying, “Hail, King of the Jews!” They spat on him, and took the reed and struck him on the head. After mocking him, they stripped him of the robe and put his own clothes on him. Then they led him away to crucify him.

Here, the procession arrives at the Gate of Judgment, the place where the authorities would pronounce the final judgment on those convicted of crimes. This was the last point of hope. This was the place where many sentences were converted or lessened. Jesus knew that this would not be the case for him. Barrabbas has already been pardoned. There was no hope.

This time Jesus does not fall under the weight of his cross but, rather, the weight of the world. It is just too much to bear. And he falls. He falls at the gate. There is no going back. There is only going forward. The only thing left for the world is hope. Father, forgive.

Jesus, when all hope is lost, remind me to look to you, the hope for all things yet to be. Amen.