Catholic

Wind, water, and fire

The liturgical period nearing Pentecost is when there is a focus on the Holy Spirit. The third Person of the Trinity is as ethereal as His name, yet He can be present in the most ordinary signs of nature.

The Holy Spirit is mentioned all throughout the various books of the Bible, even from the very beginning. “…The earth was without form or shape, with darkness over the abyss and a mighty wind sweeping over the waters…” is the description of God’s presence via the Holy Spirit in the wind when creation began. (Gen 1:2) The phenomenon of wind is a curious thing, as we can’t see  wind itself, but we can see what it does as it causes trees and plants to sway and birds to soar on its currents. It can be refreshing on a hot, summer day, or devastating as it demolishes communities in a tornado or hurricane. It’s a power that we cannot control. We may be able to predict it, we may even be able to harness it to generate electricity, but we cannot make it blow when we want or stop it when it does. Yet God can use it in creation, not just of the world, but also to give birth to the Church. We are reminded of Genesis when we read in the Acts of the Apostles, “And suddenly there came from the sky a noise like a strong driving wind,* and it filled the entire house in which they were.” (Acts 2:2) We recognize the presence of the Holy Spirit, just like at creation, in a mighty wind. 

As we learn from Elijiah, “There was a strong and violent wind rending the mountains and crushing rocks before the LORD—but the LORD was not in the wind…,” not every wind announces God’s presence. (1 Kings 19:11) However, are we ever mindful that God could be seeking our attention in little ways like the wind? Do we look for Him in either a strong wind or a light breeze? Or is the wind merely a feature of nature to tolerate? 

Water is a staple symbol in the Church. Wind and water are both mentioned together in creation’s story, although it takes on the role of chaos and something to be put in order. It escapes its boundaries in the account of Noah and the flood, where here too, like the wind, water can be a source for destruction. We think we can control water, thanks to modern plumbing, however, given enough rain, there is nothing we can do when it overwhelms the land. Here again, in God’s hands, it washes away original sin in the sacrament of Baptism. It is through these life-giving waters that we can claim God as our Father. We are a new creation when we are baptized. 

Water is a necessity of life. We drink it to keep hydrated. We wash with it to keep ourselves, our clothes and our dishes clean. We use water daily, and when we don’t have adequate access to it, we suffer. How many times do we think of the Holy Spirit during our daily water activities? Now that summer is almost here, people will be flocking to beaches and pools to cool off in the waters, yet not many will spare a thought for the graces and fruits of the Holy Spirit.

The most iconic of natural symbols of the Holy Spirit is fire. “Then there appeared to them tongues as of fire, which parted and came to rest on each one of them.” (Acts 2:3) We’re all familiar with this passage, and even if we couldn’t cite the chapter and verse, we can describe the event at Pentecost. But this is not the first time the Holy Spirit’s presence was found in fire. During the Israelites exodus from Egypt, “The LORD preceded them… at night by means of a column of fire to give them light.” (Exodus 13:21) In God’s hands, fire can be used for light, direction, and protection. Just like wind and water, fire, too, can be destructive, but it can also bring us warmth, cook our food, and help us see at night. As we fire up our grills over the summer do we appreciate the gift fire is to mankind? Are we reminded that God can use a simple flame to ignite a change in us to seek Him and His will for us? 

Three catastrophic elements of nature are at the same time three blessings from God in which He reminds us that He, via the Holy Spirit, is never far from us. We only need to see these items to be reminded of His presence. In His hands these natural wonders have the power to transform us. Let us open our minds, our hearts, and our souls to the Spirit of God as we prepare to celebrate the birthday of the Church. 

Resolutions and new beginnings

This year the Catholic Church is celebrating the Jubilee Year of Pilgrims of Hope. The theme conveys that we are on a journey in which we should keep a positive attitude, i.e. hope. But what really is hope?

I was watching a YouTube video recently where the commentator’s remark drew a distinction between hope and expectation. It’s caught in my subconscious, as it randomly pops into my thoughts. The word hope gets used quite frequently in a very casual manner. People hope for all green lights when traveling. After several days of rain, one hopes the sun will come out soon. But is this the type of hope we as Christians are supposed to have? Or, is hope like love, where there are several layers of meaning, depending on the context?

According to Merriam-Webster, the definitions of the word hope as a verb are: 1) to cherish a desire with anticipation, 2) to desire with expectation of obtainment or fulfillment, and 3) to expect with confidence: trust. As I read these three definitions, I nodded in agreement to each of them, however, it seems to me that hope is really all three of these together at once, rather than optional uses of the word. These definitions use the word expect in them, so how can hope and expectation be different? I think the last definition is the one that rings true for Christians, when we trust in God, we let His will be done, even when the outcome is totally not what we would plan for ourselves. Expectation seems to convey a sense that we know what the outcome will be, where hope is only anticipating a positive resolution.

I was surprised that the definition for hope did not convey a joyful aspect. We don’t hope for something bad to happen, but something that is good. Perhaps it is signaled in the first definition of “cherishing a desire.” But hope goes beyond merely wishing for something specific, it is an attitude of positivity in anticipation. There’s a sense of mystery to hope, and an awaiting of surprise. The expectation of hope is to be delighted in what comes about. Hope can be either a resolution, or a new beginning, or both! 

Being Pilgrims of Hope, our destination is heaven, which is also  the beginning of eternal life with God. We have some indication of what heaven could be like, but we won’t really know until we get there. In the letter to the Romans, St. Paul says, “Now hope that sees for itself is not hope. For who hopes for what one sees?” (Rom 8:24) If we look at the world around us, we can see many beautiful and wonderful things created by God. However, our world is a fallen world, and we can also see the corruption brought about by sin. Expecting heaven to be like our current world without corruption is as far as our limited human minds can comprehend. Yet hope also conveys that there is more than just our expectations. We will be fulfilled in our immersion in the glory of God in heaven. 

As we journey through this jubilee year, reflecting on what the word hope means to each of us is key to the celebration. According to the Catechism of the Catholic Church, “the virtue of hope responds to the aspiration to happiness which God has placed in the heart of every man…it opens up his heart in expectation of eternal beatitude.” (CCC 1818) May we leave our limited expectations of God and heaven behind and joyfully look forward to being with God, in the sacramental encounters in our life on earth, and in full communion with Him  in the life to come.

Shifting focus

Why do you go to Mass? While that seems like a simple question, how you answer it may reveal much about your relationship with God. 

Attending Mass on Sundays and holy days of obligation is one of the precepts of the Catholic Church. We are not “encouraged” to attend, but rather “expected” to do so. There may be some times when it does feel every bit of an obligation. However, if our sole reasoning each time is to check the box that says we’ve done our duty, it may be time to reevaluate our priorities. On a to-do list, attending Mass should not be just one other thing we do besides taking out the trash, cleaning the bathroom, and grocery shopping. While all these activities are important and need to be done, Mass is not just a thing to accomplish but a retreat from all the tedious tasks we have to cross off our list.

In the Mass, we praise and worship God. This can seem easy to do when there is robust music with familiar hymns so that everyone can sing along. We feel the energy of the music, we have a smile on our face, and it makes us feel good. If that is what is attracting us to attend Mass, that may be a sound reason initially, but it will not sustain our faith in the long run. When we attend Mass because it makes us feel good, we become the focus and reason for our attendance, not God. When there are times that Mass makes us feel good and satisfied when we leave, we can rejoice in that feeling, but we should never go expecting that feeling. 

Through the Mass we encounter Jesus in His fullness: Body, Blood, Soul, and Divinity. As the Mass is composed of two parts, the Liturgy of the Word and the Liturgy of the Eucharist, we receive Jesus in both His Word, through the Gospel, and in substance, Holy Communion. With each Mass we are given the opportunity to listen to Jesus speak to us as well as speak to Him when we pray after consuming the consecrated host. We can thank Him for all the blessings we’ve received, invoke His assistance for all the challenges before us, and ask forgiveness for all the times we’ve fallen into sin. Receiving the Precious Body and Blood of Jesus in the Holy Sacrament is the closest to heaven we have on earth. We physically are interacting with Jesus as He feeds us with Himself. 

When the reason we attend Mass becomes a visit with a friend, the focus is not on us and what we need to do or how it makes us feel, but rather on God. When we open our hearts to let Him speak through the priest and deacon, we allow God into ourselves and our lives. Reflecting on our visit may prompt us to make adjustments to our life and our interactions with others, sometimes tiny changes while others may seem to turn our world upside down. The result is making us the best version of ourselves that we can be, so that we can share the blessings we’ve received with others, bringing the love of God to them.

Mass is not about what we get out of it, but what we give instead. We give our time, our attention, and open our hearts to God. We share our blessings with others when we volunteer and donate to the collection. We reflect back to God how much we acknowledge and appreciate all He has given us by our attitude towards the Mass. Perhaps the next time we attend Mass, we can ask God how we need to shift our focus for Mass from ourselves and our needs, to Him and for the grace to do it. 

Tangles and knots

May is the month dedicated to Mary and recently I’ve been pondering one of her titles, Undoer of Knots. 

I was working on warping my loom, using a fine cotton yarn that I realized had been a bit too overspun. This resulted in the yarn wanting to twist unless it was under tension. Since a loom works by using the yarn under tension, it sounds like it would be a good use for it. However, one needs to actually get it on the loom in order to put it under tension. When one is dealing with 400 measured out strands of yarn, each about 3 yards long, it doesn’t take long for tangles to begin. As I warped the loom, I worked in small sections at a time, maybe about 20 or so ends. I could hardly believe my eyes. I would straighten the section and immediately upon releasing it, it would twist and kink up along the visible length I was working on. I was being given a challenge. Would I accept it? Or would I cut it all off and choose a different project?

I must confess there was more than one occasion that I wondered if it was worth it. This project is a practice item, I don’t have to do it. Why was I putting myself through such hassle? “It’s an opportunity to practice patience,” I told myself. But the other part of my brain would question me, “isn’t this supposed to be fun, why do you want to practice patience with this?” Another explanation I thought of was it being an opportunity to practice this particular weaving challenge, so that I know I can handle it when it comes to a project I specifically want to do, especially if it’s for a gift. Still my brain was challenging me and I was getting frustrated. Then I remembered one of Mary’s titles is Undoer of Knots. As my hands worked through the loops and tangles, I pondered on what this means for Mary, and how my current predicament could shed light on it.

The excess twist in the yarn was causing it to loop over other strands that were making their own loops. I didn’t necessarily have a knot, unless in my frustration I yanked too hard and the loop closed over the other strands. Given the fineness of the yarn, it became a really tight knot. I had to look carefully at the knot to find the outermost loop and gently tease it away from the other strands. 

When we pray to Mary to undo the knots in our lives, be it for help with our habitual sins, issues in our families or workplaces, or even our general world, we need to have patience as Mary is working. It takes time to undo a knot. It takes finesse to find which thread to pull and gently work with it. 

Undoing knots also requires great attention to detail, not just of the knot itself, but of the other threads around it. By working with one thread, another knot could be created elsewhere if one is not paying attention. When we pray for Mary’s intercession under this title, we are asking her to look at whatever situational knot we are experiencing, and to work at it from whichever angle will prevent another knot from surfacing. It can seem like our prayers are not being answered; however, if we allow Mary to intercede with Jesus for the best possible outcome, we can be assured that the knot will be undone.

When we invoke Mary’s assistance, we also need to remember that when we seek assistance, we need to be open to the Spirit’s prompting, but avoid overthinking and try to resolve the issue ourselves. When we seek to fix our problems, we can create more tangles and knots in our life-yarn that is straight and smooth. It’s very tempting to make a plan to address an issue and our take-charge culture feeds that impulse. However, when we realize the difficulty is too big for us to address on our own, we need to leave it firmly in the hands of our spiritual guardians. Like at the wedding feast in Cana, Mary’s response may be for us to follow whatever Jesus tells us to do. And like at the feast, filling up the ceremonial jars used for washing when wine was needed sounded crazy to the staff, we may be prompted to take action in a way that seems to have no connection with our problem. But Mary and Jesus are outside of time and space; they can see the impact of it all. When we pray, we need to trust in their intervention and be open to their guidance. 

While it seemed to take forever to warp the loom, I did succeed. I absolutely had moments of frustration, but I also had moments of mirth as I thought of Mary as the Undoer of Knots. I know that my knots were nothing that needed her intercession, but it was nice to feel a kinship with her doing the same action. 

Feline lessons

Eight years ago I adopted my cat, Vera. In that time she has taught me so many lessons, including spiritual ones! Her presence has been a blessing to me, and I will be forever grateful to God for bringing her into my life.

Approach prayer with joy! As I used the Magnificat prayer book for morning and evening prayers, Vera would be right there, rubbing up against the book and purring away. I would ask her if she was saying her prayers too by doing that. I loved hearing her purr and it always put a smile on my face, even when I was going to bed later than I wanted or waking up early for a special event. Prayer time is important, but so is our attitude about it. We should approach all prayer with joy and awe at the ability to be heard by our Creator. 

Vera at morning prayer

Patience is something to always practice. Not being able to communicate in a common language, we each needed to learn how to communicate with each other. Trying to keep her safe meant not allowing her in certain rooms, or not allowing her to chew on string — like my scapular. Teaching her what the boundaries meant, I had to find a way to communicate the correction without hurting our relationship. I didn’t want her to fear me, but rather appreciate that I was keeping her safe even though she may not have understood why I was asking her to amend her behavior. The infinite God who knows all, gently corrects us in our actions and decisions. We may not be able to see the bigger picture and how what we say or do impacts the wider world, yet God knows and understands. While I’m still learning to be aware of God’s kind nudges, I’m much more aware that He does them because of caring for Vera.

The amount of love I have for Vera cannot be expressed in simple words. Yet I know it is but a thimble-full in comparison to the love that God has for me. God loves me as I am and always wants me to be closer to Him. He wants me to become the best version of myself that I can be. Knowing the love I have for Vera puts me in awe of God’s love for me. It makes the incarnation of Jesus as well as His Passion, Death, and Resurrection boggle the mind at the depth of His love.

The most important lesson, however, I learned over Lent and Easter this year. Shortly before Lent began and the day before I left for Japan, the vet drained two pounds of fluid from Vera’s abdomen. I was blessed that she was able to greet me when I got home, however, the vet drained her twice more over the course of the Lenten season. As we focused spiritually on Jesus’s Death and Resurrection, I watched Vera decline. On Easter Monday, she passed in my arms. All this talk about resurrection, yet animals, because they are not made in God’s image or likeness, are not thought to have immortal souls, nor is there any teaching that we will see animals in heaven. It has been hard to process this grief because it seems so… final. Yet I’ve come to the conclusion that the goal of heaven is to be with God. Whomever else, be it human, or animal, or some other being, will be an added blessing if I see them in heaven, but is not the requirement to be happy in heaven. I do believe that God has created all things, and I will not limit Him to who or what is in heaven, or who is resurrected when our souls are reunited with our bodies. While it has been challenging to celebrate Easter with the joy it deserves, I know I’m celebrating it with a heart full of gratitude for the time I’ve had with Vera and all the joy she brought into my life. The Lord giveth and the Lord taketh away. Blessed be the Lord. 

Even though I grieve the loss of my feline companion, I know I will welcome another in my home when the time is right. I leave it to Divine Providence to bless me with yet another cat who will continue to teach me about God in ways I can’t even imagine. 

Doubting everyone

Poor Thomas usually gets the nickname, Doubting Thomas, however, a closer inspection of the last chapter of each Gospel should prompt the question, Who doesn’t doubt?

“When they saw him, they worshiped, but they doubted.” (Mt 28:17) One of the last lines in Matthew’s Gospel is at the point Jesus gives the Apostles the mission to proclaim Him to the world. It seems a bit odd to see that the Apostles doubted the risen Jesus! From Matthew’s perspective, his message seems a little unfinished if the Apostles were still doubting. Perhaps it’s because the Gospels are written several decades after this time. In addition, Jesus’ ascension and Pentecost, the coming of the Holy Spirit, boosted their faith, which in turn prompted the Gospels to be written. Perhaps it’s a subtle acknowledgement that this can be a difficult teaching and it’s okay to question it. 

“When they heard that he was alive and had been seen by her, they did not believe.” (Mk 16: 11) “After this he appeared in another form to two of them walking along on their way to the country.  They returned and told the others; but they did not believe them either.” (Mk 16: 12-13) Mark’s Gospel account relates that the Apostles did not believe Mary Magdalene nor the two disciples who had returned to Jerusalem, most likely the two who were walking to Emmaus. Twice! How can the Apostles not believe two separate accounts? Did they believe all were imagining a ghost? 

“The women were Mary Magdalene, Joanna, and Mary the mother of James; the others who accompanied them also told this to the apostles, but their story seemed like nonsense and they did not believe them.” (Lk 24: 10-11) In Luke’s account, it is the women’s story that is received with disbelief. Later on in the chapter is the story of the disciples on the way to Emmaus as well as Jesus appearing to the Apostles. At that time period, women did not have legal status and could not be an eye witness in court. Thinking with that mindset, it seems plausible that the men would discount what the women said. However, these were women who most likely traveled with the itinerant band. They would have been familiar with the women and know they would not tell lies or make up stories. Perhaps because the subject matter was unthinkable, they couldn’t understand the resurrection?

“Then the other disciple also went in, the one who had arrived at the tomb first, and he saw and believed. For they did not yet understand the scripture that he had to rise from the dead.”  (Jn 20:8-9) John’s Gospel is almost the reverse of the others. While it doesn’t come out that Peter didn’t believe, it implies such because the other apostle stated his belief in the risen Lord. John’s Gospel also includes the story of Thomas as well as an epitaph remarking on why the Gospel was written so that people could come to believe in Jesus. 

It’s comforting to see that even those closest to Jesus struggled to comprehend the entirety of His mission. I do believe in all the aspects of Jesus’ birth, death, and resurrection, however, I cannot explain how Jesus did all of this. I believe these are all miracles that God can do, the God of all creation — from the smallest atom and particle to the largest planet and galaxy — He can do anything. What I struggle with is how God is working in my life. In the good times and in the troublesome times, God is always there with us, just like He was with all the Apostles as they came to the realization of Jesus and His mission, which became their own.

Everyone doubts something at some point. It’s more about what we do when we are in doubt that will determine how doubt affects us. We can either turn away from God, letting doubt be greater than God. Or we can turn it over to God and lean into Him to help us through it, in which case our doubt strengthens our faith. In these times, we can reach out to the Apostles for support as well, since they understand doubt and how it can transform us into messengers of the Gospel.

Where to look

Easter is about seeking and finding. However, it entirely depends on what you’re looking for. And during this season, why do we search for something that’s empty?

One of the optional Gospel readings for Easter is Luke’s account of the women who visit Jesus’ tomb. They meet up with angels who ask them, “Why do you seek the living one among the dead?” (Lk 24:5) It’s a fascinating question to ponder because it challenges us to reflect upon our faith. While it makes sense for the women to look for Jesus at the tomb, as they expected Him to remain buried. For us, living 2,000 years later, with scores of commentary, sermons, and prayers written about Jesus’ resurrection, we have to ask ourselves: where do we look for Jesus? Do we go to “dead” places to find Him? Are we surprised when our half-hearted attempts result in emptiness?

Ironically, many participate in seeking another type of emptiness: plastic Easter eggs. These colorful symbols of the season seem to contrast the empty tomb. While they may be a symbol of the holiday, they are not true correlations of the faith, rather they are merely a hollow imitation of the real symbol. Tradition teaches that an egg is a symbol of the resurrection when it is cracked open, not when it is whole, intact, and painted a pastel color. A plastic egg pales in comparison to a real egg. It is hollow inside, and, frankly, it’s fake. Yet we joyfully go after them on Easter to see how many we can find. Or for those who are hiding the frauds, to see how many others will find without hints. Do we chase after Jesus with the same mirth and excitement? Do our actions lead others to Jesus or drive them farther away?

It is an interesting juxtaposition: a plastic Easter egg and Jeus’ tomb; both are empty. Yet the tomb is responsible for more joy over the centuries than any single plastic Easter egg ever could. Our human nature makes us susceptible to hunt for these colorful but meaningless toys, which can correlate to our earthly desires and passions. It may make us happy in the moment, especially when we find one, but that moment is fleeting. When we dig down in our faith and seek Jesus, the empty tomb becomes our promise of hope in what’s to come for us. We, too, someday will be resurrected like Jesus; reunited body and soul. The empty tomb is not just some cave far, far away. It is theological proof that Jesus IS God in the second person of the Trinity, for only God can raise the dead and bring new life back to what is no longer. Jesus died for us, going to the farthest reaches any human can go, and came back again. He freed us from sin’s dark hold and put an end to the fear of death. 

God is not the God of the dead, but of the living. Like a real egg cracking to release the newly hatched chick, the tomb cracks open new life in Jesus Christ. Through our faith in Him, Jesus fills us with grace and the gifts of the Holy Spirit. Anything else is a cheap thrill that will only leave us empty inside.

Without a doubt

During this Holy Week, we conclude our reflection on the Stations of the Cross. These two may seem to be superfluous after the events leading up to the crucifixion and death of Jesus. However, they underscore the finality of death in order that Jesus’ resurrection should be that much more extraordinary.

The thirteenth station: Jesus’ body is taken down from the cross

While this action seems to be rather mundane, in actuality, it was rather surprising. Crucifixion was not only meant to be a punishment, but also a deterrent. If the crucified bodies were removed immediately after they died, the threat of the punishment would lose much of its power. The executed bodies would remain for all those who passed by, to remind them of the penalty in going against Rome. Perhaps due to the solemnity of the Passover that was celebrated at that time, Pilate allowed the quick removal of Jesus’ body and those crucified with Him. 

It is this station that evokes the image of Michelangelo’s Pietà, of Mary holding the body of her Son one last time. Jesus came down from heaven to be born of Mary, and she held Him in her arms at Bethlehem. Now His mission from His earthly body’s standpoint is complete and she holds His remains lovingly in her arms. While Jesus understands all emotions, Mary is one to seek during times of sorrow and grief. She allowed God’s will to unfold and supported it to the best of her ability. She trusted in God to get her through this, the most painful sorrow she had encountered as the Mother of Jesus. Simeon’s prophecy at His presentation in the Temple must have been ringing through her thoughts. A lance penetrated Jesus’ side and heart, but a spiritual and emotional sword pierced Mary’s motherly heart at what seemed like the end.

The fourteenth station: Jesus’ body is placed in the tomb

In a dark cave, hewed out of a rock, Jesus’ body is wrapped and placed for burial. A large stone is rolled to seal the entrance, the ancient equivalent to nailing a coffin shut. At the time, it seemed to all the world that the promised Anointed one was no longer. With His demise, the Apostles are left without a leader, without direction, and wholly uncertain of what to do next. 

The Church equates the time after the Liturgy of the Passion and through Holy Saturday in reflection of this station. We ponder the depths that God, via Jesus, would go to, in order to restore a relationship with us. Not just did Jesus die for us, but He also went to the depths of spiritual darkness, where all the souls who had perished previously were awaiting Him. Those souls went from no ability to be with God to the possibility of cleansing any remaining attachments and beholding the beatific vision. Jesus loves us that much, that He fulfilled the Will of the Father to redeem mankind throughout time.

These two stations set the foundation for the spectacular resurrection of Jesus. His death was verified by many people as He was removed from the cross and His lifeless body was placed in the tomb. When he rose from death on that first Easter morning, it was beyond belief. For us today, we still don’t understand it fully, even though we believe it as one of the main tenets of our faith. There is no doubt that Jesus died. And for Christians, there is no doubt that Jesus rose from the dead. 

In these last days of leading up to the most holiest day of the year, let us ponder our doubts and place them before the cross and before the tomb. Let us open our hearts to God to illuminate the way to trust in His Will for us. That’s what our faith journey on earth is all about; giving our whole selves, doubts and fears as well as love and sacrifices, to God so that our lives may be a song of praise to Him.

Not the end

This is not the end. While this week’s stations seem like they should be, they are not. They are, perhaps, the most difficult stations to meditate on.

The eleventh station: Jesus is nailed to the cross

The Romans soldiers seemed to have perfected brutality. While scholars may quibble about where the nail was placed, in the palm or in the wrist, Jesus was nailed to the cross. Ironically, all four Gospels only report that Jesus was crucified, but do not explain what that entails. It’s in John’s Gospel after Jesus’ resurrection when Thomas doubts that the nail marks are mentioned.

Perhaps it’s just me, but whenever I’m praying the stations of the cross and this station is prayed, I feel like I want to protect my hands and wrists. Just thinking about having nails hammered through makes me cringe. After all the pain and suffering Jesus had to go through, from the mock trial and abuse from the Sanhedrin, to the scourging by the Roman soldiers, to the forced walk to Golgotha for His crucifixion, this last detail humbles me. While being affixed to the cross in any manner may be part of the whole crucifixion method, metal nails that pierce sensitive tissue and nerves must have been excruciating. And Jesus allowed Himself to be thus treated. For me and my sins. He did it so that I can have a relationship with God. He did it because He loves me. 

The twelfth station: Jesus dies on the cross

This is only the culmination of all Jesus’ suffering. It is not the end of Jesus or of salvation history. Rather it is the turning point. We have confirmation of Jesus’ death with the Roman soldier who pierced Him with a lance, to make sure He was dead. There is no mistake. Jesus just didn’t faint from being hung on the cross. He died. His body ceased all function. Jesus is fully human and fully divine, so while His human body died, His soul, both human and divine, lives on after the crucifixion. His soul descended down to the dead, to those souls who perished before Him, all the way back to Adam and Eve. But to those who walked with Him in His earthly life, all they know is that Jesus is dead. 

We have the luxury of knowing what happened next, but to those at that time, it must have been absolutely heartbreaking. From Blessed Mother Mary, to the Apostles, to all those who followed or who were somehow touched by Jesus during His ministry, the loss of Jesus must have been felt down to their soul. Praying the stations of the cross is walking with Jesus and His companions through this difficult time. We may not have been there at that time in history, but praying these events takes us back and opens our eyes to all that Jesus endured. Too often we sum it up by referencing Jesus’ Passion and Death, like it is two checkmarks on a list of what Jesus did in salvation history. 

It can be hard to pray the stations of the cross, and we’re not even done reviewing them all yet! It’s easy to become overwhelmed at all the pain and suffering in each detail. However, without being there, this may be only part of the full story of what happened. We can find ourselves wondering why Jesus allowed all this to be done to Him. Why didn’t He say enough is enough? But that is our human perspective reflecting on these events. These details are meant to be a method of reflection for us, to recognize when we choose our way or a perceived “easy” way of sin. Sin is when we reject God and His will for us. Sin is actually worse than all that Jesus suffered. And yet even after contemplating all that Jesus has done to repair our relationship with God, we choose to sin, again and again.

During Lent, we practice prayer, fasting, and almsgiving in a focused manner to align our minds and hearts with Jesus’ Passion and Death. In this time leading up to the most Holiest celebration of the Liturgical Year, let us recognize the depth of Jesus’ love for us, and humbly offer our Lenten practices in thanksgiving to Jesus. 

Fallen and stripped

As we continue our journey through the Stations of the Cross, the next two are ones that we may not think as important as others. However, these two are still worth contemplation and reflection, every bit as the ones that seem even more important, especially as we get closer to the final stations.

The ninth station: Jesus falls for the third time

When we reach this station, it can be easily glossed over, as we have already reflected on the first two falls of Jesus. What more can be said? But that is way too much of a human perspective. We can get frustrated by repetition, especially when it comes to our sins. Sometimes when we realize just how often we sin in the same way, we can shrug it off and say that we can’t help it or that it’s just the way we are. What we are doing is giving up. Other times we may be so frustrated with ourselves that we think that God cannot forgive us yet again. Both attitudes are incorrect. 

The way of the cross only identifies three times that Jesus fell. But was that really the total amount? He was weak from the beatings, the loss of blood, the crown of thorns, walking to the crucifixion site while carrying the wooden beam or cross that He was to be nailed to. The road, even if it was paved in stones, may not have been very smooth, and certainly was not flat. Jesus definitely stumbled many times, and fell at least three times and perhaps more. His mission at this point is to become our Savior by dying and rising again. He fell, but He didn’t give up on us. Neither should we give up on His mercy, no matter how many times we fall into the same sin. That’s what confession is for; so that we can stand up again and learn to be mindful of what leads us into the same sin and try to avoid it. 

This third fall is a call to penetrate deep into our hearts and souls and to examine what separates us from a full relationship with God. What are the sins, even those that are minor, that have become habitual? It is these that we take to the third fall of Jesus and ask for forgiveness and mercy to help us do better in the future.

The tenth station: Jesus is stripped of His clothes

While the Gospels mention the soldiers casting lots for his garments, it skips over the obvious. Jesus is stripped of the last of His human dignity: His clothing. It may not seem like much, but it, too, is torturous for Jesus. Anyone who has had a bandage stuck to an open wound knows that it hurts when pulled off. After the severe beating Jesus had at the hands of the professional Roman soldiers, Jesus’ body would have been full of open and still bleeding wounds. Ones that His garments would stick to because they acted as bandages for Him. 

Since Jesus was going to die soon anyway the soldiers would have no incentive to remove His clothing gently. Yes, they were going to gamble for it, but that doesn’t mean having a full garment intact would be worth more. Perhaps garments won by the soldiers were considered their trophies and the competition was for who had the most. The soldiers didn’t care how Jesus felt when they removed His clothes. Perhaps in removing them quickly it was a mercy to Jesus. Or did the executioners know the pain in removing the clothes and did it slowly to cause more agony?

While depictions of Jesus on the cross always include a loin cloth for decency, the prevailing thought is that Jesus was naked on the cross. When we go to confession, do we bare our souls naked to Jesus? Do we confess all our sins, even those we would prefer not to admit or that have become a habit? 

Jesus willingly gave up His life, and in doing so, allowed Himself to the indignities of being treated as a criminal. He did that so that we could be forgiven and return to a relationship with God. There is no detail in Jesus’ passion, death, and resurrection that does not have meaning. Jesus willingly accepted it all for the love of us. Let us return the love by contemplating on the details of cross, even those that can seem repetitive and minor.