Sitting with the Sacred

This post is a continuation of my Lenten reflections on the Scriptural Stations of the Cross. The station titles and scripture and verse citations, except where otherwise noted, are published on USCCB.org.

Thirteenth Station: Jesus Dies on the Cross

(Luke 23: 44-46)

Jesus, You began Your journey to the cross, in one sense, in the desert at the start of Your public ministry, and in another sense, in the Garden of Gethsemane. In both places, You let the Spirit lead you away from other people and from material comforts so that You could nurture Your relationship with the One who created You and sent You on Your mission. Times of retreat such as these allowed You to seek and to find the strength You needed to offer Yourself to Your brothers and sisters in the human family despite their spiritual blindness, weakness, greed, lust, fear, and impatience. You were able to surrender Yourself to others because You trusted Your Father would use their sins and frailties to accomplish the work of redemption. You knew that, ultimately, You were surrendering not to evil but to the Good of Your Father. For that purpose, You gave back to Your Father everything You received — Your desires, Your will, Your body, Your blood — every drop of it — and, in the moment to which I now turn my attention, Your spirit. You knew that only by dying, only by commending everything You had received to the Father, would You be free from the grip death had on You.

I, too, must embark on a lifelong journey of surrendering everything I have to Divine Love in order to receive Divine Life. I couldn’t travel this path if You hadn’t done so before me and didn’t continue to do so beside me and within me. I forget the sight and the feel of Your Way again and again, and You are with me to guide me back to it. Thank You for doing for me, with me, and in me what I cannot do by myself. Thank you for creating me for relationship in all its forms. Amen.

Fourteenth Station: Jesus is Placed in the Tomb

(Matthew 27: 57-60)

Jesus, in honor of the care Joseph of Arimathea showed You when You could not express Your gratitude, I offer prayers of thanksgiving.

• for those who share what they have
• for those who give of themselves and their possessions without expecting compensation or a reward
• for those who cannot express their gratitude for the care they receive
• for those who look after the dignity of the dignity of members of the human family who have died.

I’m grateful that You call to Yourself people from all walks of life.

I pray for those who have died, for those who mourn, for those who wait, and for all of us who grapple with anxiety amid the uncertainty of life. I bring to You Your beloved ones who face situations that seem hopeless.

And I pray for the virtues of patience and charity. Help me to recognize and to accept opportunities to practice these virtues. Teach me to rest in You. Amen.