The Way of the Beatitudes

Third Station: Jesus falls the first time

From the Gospel according to Luke (10:13 – 15)

“Woe to you, Chorazin! Woe to you, Bethsaida! For if the deeds of power done in you had been done in Tyre and Sidon, they would have repented long ago, sitting in sackcloth and ashes. But at the judgement it will be more tolerable for Tyre and Sidon than for you. And you, Capernaum, will you be exalted to heaven? No, you will be brought down to Hades.”

It was like hitting rock bottom, and you spoke harsh words, Jesus, about those places that were so dear to you. The seed of your word seemed to have fallen into the abyss, as did all your acts of deliverance. Every prophet felt himself plunging into the abyss of failure, only then to get up and keep walking in the ways of God. 

Your life, Jesus, is a parable: on the soil of our lives, you never fall in vain. Even at that first fall, your disappointment was soon interrupted by the joy of remembering the disciples whom you had sent out: they returned from their mission and told you of the signs of the Kingdom of God. Then you rejoiced with a spontaneous, overflowing joy that made you leap to your feet with contagious energy. You blessed the Father, who conceals his plans from the wise and the learned in order to reveal them to the little ones. 

Even the way of the cross is traced close to the earth. The mighty withdraw from it; they desire to grasp at heaven. Yet heaven is here below; it hangs low, and we can encounter it even when we fall flat on the ground. Today’s builders of Babel tell us that there is no room for losers, and that those who fall along the way are losers. Theirs is the construction site of Hell. God’s economy, on the other hand, does not kill, discard or crush. It is lowly, faithful to the earth. Your way, Jesus, is the way of the Beatitudes. It does not crush, but cultivates, repairs and protects.

Let us pray, saying: May your kingdom come!

Eleventh Station: Jesus is nailed to the cross

From the Gospel according to Luke (23:32 – 34)

Two others also, who were criminals, were led away to be put to death with him. When they came to the place that is called The Skull, they crucified Jesus there with the criminals, one on his right and one on his left. Then Jesus said, ​“Father, forgive them; for they do not know what they are doing.”

Nothing frightens us more than being unable to move. Yet here you are, bound, nailed, held fast. Still, you are not alone, but in the company of two others, resolved to reveal yourself even on the cross as ​“God with us.” 

Revelation never stops; it is not nailed to one place. Lord, you show us that in every situation there is a choice to be made. That is the amazing reality of our freedom. Not even on the cross are you stripped of your freedom: you decide why and for whom you are there. 

You are attentive to both the men crucified with you: you let slip the insults of one and you hear the plea of the other. You are even concerned for the men who crucify you: you peer into the hearts of those who ​“know not what they do.” You look up to the sky: you would like it clearer, yet you break through its barrier of gloom with the light of your intercession. Nailed to the cross you intercede: you ​“stand between” conflicting parties. And you bring them to God, because your cross tears down walls, cancels debts, quashes judgements, establishes reconciliation. You yourself are the true Jubilee. Convert us to you, Jesus; though nailed fast to the cross, you are able to do all things.

Let us pray, saying: Teach us to love

Thirteenth Station: Jesus is taken down from the cross

From the Gospel according to Luke (23:50 – 53)

Now there was a good and righteous man named Joseph, who, though a member of the council, had not agreed to their plan and action. He came from the Jewish town of Arimathea, and he was waiting expectantly for the kingdom of God. 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.

Your body is now, at last, in the hands of a good and righteous man. You are shrouded in the sleep of death, Jesus, but a vibrant, generous heart has now chosen to stand by you. Joseph was not one of those who talk but then fail to act. ​“He had not agreed to their plan and action,” the Gospel tells us. And this is good news: someone who chose not to care for the opinion of others now cares for you, Jesus. You are cared for by someone who is concerned to do what he considers right. You are now in the hands of Joseph of Arimathea, one who ​“was waiting expectantly for the kingdom of God.” You are now in the hands of someone who continues to hope, one of those who refuse to think that injustice always prevails. 

You break the bonds of the inevitable, Jesus. You challenge the mindsets that devastate the earth, our common home, and human solidarity. You grant to those who ​“wait expectantly” for your kingdom the courage to speak to power: like Moses before Pharaoh, like Joseph of Arimathea before Pilate. You embolden us to take on great tasks. In this way, even in death, you continue to reign. For us, Jesus, to serve you is itself to reign.

Let us pray, saying: To serve you is to reign

Fourteenth Station: Jesus is laid in the tomb

From the Gospel according to Luke (23:53 – 56)

[Joseph of Arimathea] wrapped [the body of Jesus] in a linen cloth, and laid it in a rock-hewn tomb where no one had ever been laid. It was the day of Preparation, and the Sabbath was beginning. The women who had come with him from Galilee followed, and they saw the tomb and how his body was laid. Then they returned, and prepared spices and ointments. On the Sabbath, they rested according to the commandment.

In a world of hectic activity, Jesus, you now experience your Sabbath. The women experience it too; their spices and ointments seem already to prefigure the resurrection. Teach us how to do nothing at those times when it is asked of us only to wait. Teach us sensitivity to the seasons of the earth, which are not those of our making. 

Laid in the tomb, Lord Jesus, you share in our common human condition, descending to the depths that so terrify us. You see how we try to escape them by keeping desperately busy. Often we end up merely going around in circles, but then the light of the Sabbath shines forth: it teaches us; it tells us of our need to rest. To experience a godly life, life on a truly human scale, a life that knows the peace of the Sabbath. 

This is what the prophet Micah foretold: ​“They shall all sit under their own vines and under their own fig trees, and no one shall make them afraid” (Mic 4:4). So too, Zechariah tells us: ​“On that day, says the Lord of hosts, you shall invite each other to come under your vine and fig tree” (Zech 3:10). Lord Jesus, who seem to sleep amid the tempests of this world, bring us all into the peace of the Sabbath rest. Then we shall see creation in all its beauty and goodness, destined for resurrection. Then there will be peace for your people and peace among the nations.

Let us pray, saying: May your peace come!