XIV. Jesus is Laid in the Sepulchre

V. We adore Thee, O Christ, and we bless Thee.
R. Because by Thy holy Cross, Thou hast redeemed the world.

Somehow death always feels like the end.  Even though we say that we believe in the resurrection of the dead, it is hard not to face a parting as if it were forever.

Think of how the apostles must have felt to see the body of Jesus laid in the tomb.  The finality of it must have struck their hearts with numb terror.  Everything they had given up to follow Him must have seemed in vain.  They had followed Him, believing that He was the Messiah, the Christ, the One who would set them free.  Instead, He had died the most horrible death of a criminal and now His body lay in the coldness of a sepulcher intended for another.

Our Lady must have sustained them by her presence, by her faith in God, but still what consolation could she give them?  How do you ever speak words of comfort to one who has suffered loss?

When one is in the darkness of grief, no light seems possible.  In the face of death, how can one believe in resurrection?

Yet it is precisely through that death and darkness that God crashes with His tremendous power, destroying all our expectations of gloom and doom.  What of the sealed tombs in our own lives?  Do we close off our hearts at the loss and turn our back on all that was good when it turns out wrong?  Or do we linger, waiting for the moment when the angel will roll back the stone?

Oh, my buried Jesus, I kiss the stone that encloses Thee. But Thou didst rise again the third day. I beseech Thee, by Thy resurrection, make me rise glorious with Thee at the last day, to be always united with Thee in heaven, to praise Thee and love Thee forever. I love Thee, and I repent of ever having offended Thee. Never permit me to offend Thee again. Grant that I may love Thee always; and then do with me what Thou wilt. (From the Stations of the Cross according to Saint Alphonsus Liguori.)

~

As we descend with our Lord into the darkness with the beginning of the Triduum tomorrow, I pray that each of you will deeply encounter the Paschal Mystery.

Please share any more particular prayer intentions with me if you wish.

Blessings to you this Holy Week!

XIII. Jesus is Taken Down from the Cross

V. We adore Thee, O Christ, and we bless Thee.
R. Because by Thy holy Cross, Thou hast redeemed the world.


What a terrifying experience it must have been to have stood beneath the cross on Calvary as the Savior of the world died, the earth quaked, and the veil of the temple was torn in two.  Then to receive His body....

Our Lady must have thought of the first time she held her Son in her arms when she held His broken body.  Then she must have marveled at how God could rest in the fragile flesh of an infant.  Now she grieved at the tortured body of that Son who had borne incomprehensible sufferings by taking on the sins of the whole world.

Her own heart had been pierced by the sword of sorrow foretold by Simeon in the temple.  Thus her suffering too became a well of love united with that of her Son, earning her the title Co-Redemptrix.

Although her heart must have broken as she pressed the body of her Son to her heart, still in the depths of her heart she uttered still that simple word of love: "Fiat."  Whatever she willed, she knew that God's will must be done.  She knew that no matter how cruel it seemed, no matter how dark the path that she must tread forward, that the Father's Providence would bring good out of evil.

Now by her prayers she seeks to obtain for us that same grace.

O Mother of sorrow, for the love of this Son, accept me for thy servant, and pray to Him for me. And Thou, my Redeemer, since Thou hast died for me, permit me to love Thee; for I wish but Thee, and nothing more. I love Thee, my Jesus, and I repent of ever having offended Thee. Never permit me to offend Thee again. Grant that I may love Thee always; and then do with me what Thou wilt. (From the Stations of the Cross according to Saint Alphonsus Liguori.)

XII. Jesus Dies on the Cross

V. We adore Thee, O Christ, and we bless Thee.
R. Because by Thy holy Cross, Thou hast redeemed the world.

When Nietzsche wrote, "God is dead," doubtless he intended it to be a startling statement, but surely it is far more startling to say that "God has died."  Even more powerful is to say: "God has died the most excruciating death to show you how much He loves you and wants you to live with Him forever, freed from the pain and suffering you inflict upon yourself by your sins."

Death cleaves soul from body, but also destroys all earthly hopes for glory and power.  In the light of death none of these paltry things to which we cling so strongly mean more than the dust that covers the earth.

Our Beloved Savior knew better than we what truly matters.  He knew that in the end all that remains is love.

It was love that carried Him through the torturous journey that brought Him to the place of execution.  It was love that filled His heart with every breath He took—every painful breath to draw in voice to speak His last words of love upon His enemies and those close to Him alike.

O my dying Jesus, I kiss devoutly the Cross on which Thou didst die for love of me. I have merited by my sins to die a miserable death; but Thy death is my hope. Ah, by the merits of Thy death, give me grace to die, embracing Thy feet, and burning with love for Thee. I yield my soul into Thy hands. I love Thee with my whole heart; I repent of ever having offended Thee. Never permit me to offend Thee again. Grant that I may love Thee always; and then do with me what Thou wilt. (From the Stations of the Cross according to Saint Alphonsus Liguori.)

And every word He spoke while He hung upon that cross carries such a weight of love:

"Father, forgive them, for they know not what we do."  For we never know what we do: we never know how deeply we offend Him not just by our sinning, but by failing to turn to Him with the loving tenderness in each moment that He deserves for His goodness to us.

"Truly I say to you, today you shall be with Me in Paradise."  All it took to gain Saint Dismas this promise was one act of love.  How overwhelmingly our Lord responds to any act made for love of Him!

"Woman, behold your son.  Son, behold your mother."  He wanted even to share His Mother with us, to share her pure and loving heart with us, knowing that she would intercede for us with all the power of her being.

"My God, My God, why hast Thou abandoned Me?"  Crying out in union with our torment, He shows us that He too knows the depths of despair that sometimes threatens our hearts' peace.

"I thirst."   How greatly He thirsts for our love!

"It is finished."  When He had reached the end of His strength, He knew that His sacrifice was complete, ready as if a gift to be wrapped and handed to those He loves.

"Into Thy hands, I commend My spirit."  In the end He gave Himself back into the hands of His Father whose Providence had guided each moment of His earthly life and which directs also each moment of ours.

Three hours of agony it cost Him before He had expended all the strength of His mortal body in an outpouring of love.  Even then He had more to give: when the soldiers pierced His side, blood and water flowed forth like an ocean of mercy for the whole world, preparing the way for the most beautiful prayer given to Saint Faustina and known as the Divine Mercy chaplet and which begins thus:

You expired, Jesus, but the source of life gushed forth for souls, and the ocean of mercy opened up for the whole world. O Fount of Life, unfathomable Divine Mercy, envelop the whole world and empty Yourself out upon us.

XI. Jesus is Nailed to the Cross

V. We adore Thee, O Christ, and we bless Thee.
R. Because by Thy holy Cross, Thou hast redeemed the world.

Why should God have chosen the cross as the means for our salvation?

Think of it: Christ was nailed to the cross, the large nails boring through His hands and His feet.  Not only must it have been excruciatingly painful, but they also left wounds there that He would later show to His apostles.

Why did He choose to allow Himself to be thus marked?  Why did He want His wounds to be visible even in His glorified body?

Was it not for our sake?  For He wanted to remind us at every moment of how much He loves us.  Even more than that, He wants us to know that we are not alone in our suffering.  If we are nailed to our cross (so often ourselves or whatever suffering we bear) then we are not alone: He still bears His wounds, displaying them openly that we might remember that it was through sufferings that our salvation was won.

Sometimes we are afraid of pain, of illness, of suffering in any form because we think that it will shatter us.  Yet these things united to Him have a great power and if they remain burned in our flesh it is only that we might have some means of unity with our Blessed Savior.

My Jesus! loaded with contempt, nail my heart to Thy feet, that it may ever remain there, to love Thee, and never quit Thee again. I love Thee more than myself; I repent of having offended Thee. Never permit me to offend Thee again. Grant that I may love Thee always; and then do with me what Thou wilt. (From the Stations of the Cross according to Saint Alphonsus Liguori.)

X. Jesus is Stripped of His Garments

V. We adore Thee, O Christ, and we bless Thee.
R. Because by Thy holy Cross, Thou hast redeemed the world.

Finally Christ reached the place of execution and there He was stripped of His last possessions: the clothing His Mother had made for Him.  There He stood, naked, with nothing to call His own but His blood streaming over His body.

We are ashamed when we have nothing.  We cannot bear our own poverty.

Yet He stood without humiliation because He placed His trust not in things of this world, but in doing the will of the Father, which He did so perfectly.  He knew that, although stripped of all worldly possessions, He possessed the treasures of the Kingdom of Heaven as promised by His Father.

If only we trusted in nothing bound to pass away with this world.  If only we could have for ourselves nothing but the blood of Christ shed for us.

If we ask Him, certainly He will strip us of our attachment to things of this earth.  He loves to draw us near to Him, wanting us to live with Him eternally.  Although He knows that we must suffer, just as He did, to prepare us for such glory, He is ever gentle with us.

My innocent Jesus, by the merits of the torment Thou hast felt, help me to strip myself of all affection to things of earth, in order that I may place all my love in Thee, who art so worthy of my love. I love Thee, O Jesus, with my whole heart; I repent of having offended Thee. Never permit me to offend Thee again. Grant that I may love Thee always; and then do with me what Thou wilt. (From the Stations of the Cross according to Saint Alphonsus Liguori.)

IX. Jesus Falls the Third Time

V. We adore Thee, O Christ, and we bless Thee.
R. Because by Thy holy Cross, Thou hast redeemed the world.

"Third time's the charm," as people say.  There is something significant in the number three: a powerful expression of finality.

When Christ fell the third time, how weak He must have been, how near unto the place of crucifixion and yet how far.  In His weakness He must have lain for a moment, trying to draw strength to rise, His will bent still toward our salvation, loving us with every moment of the immense torment He suffered as He lay against the rock-strewn ground.

Think of what the devil whispered into His ears.  For He was not left alone in that moment of weakness, but laid bare to all the snares of enemy.

What about your own falls?  It is when we are weakest that the devil likes to strike, for he cannot get us when we are wrapped about with the power and love of Christ.  It is only when we lie prone in our weakness and do not wish to go on that he can tempt us not to go on.  Then he can make us feel that all is hopeless, that we are powerless, and that we shall never rise from this darkness.

How much more must Christ have been tempted as He lay there.  Was it because He was God that He did not give in?

Rather it was love.  For only love can carry one through temptation.  Only love can make us so little heed our own darkness that we will to suffer it so long as God wills it.  Only love can raise us up when we have fallen.  Only love can give us hope in a brighter dawn.

And our Lord did not remain on the ground.  He struggled to His feet again, the cross still upon His shoulders.

Perhaps His entire human nature cried out that it was futile and that He would never have the strength to reach the place of crucifixion.  The enemy may have whispered of our infidelity, our lack of care for Him, our turning away and complete disdain for all that He was doing for us.  Yet He loved us still.  He went on because He wanted to show us that love in the most powerful way He could: by dying for us.  That death He had already begun, dying for us in each moment, and dying to the temptations that assailed even Him.

May He grant us the grace to rise from our hardest falls and to go on for love of Him.

Ah, my outraged Jesus, by the merits of the weakness Thou didst suffer in going to Calvary, give me strength sufficient to conquer all human respect, and all my wicked passions, which have led me to despise Thy friendship. I love Thee, Jesus my love, with my whole heart; I repent of having offended Thee. Never permit me to offend Thee again. Grant that I may love Thee always; and then do with me what Thou wilt. (From the Stations of the Cross according to Saint Alphonsus Liguori.)

VIII. Jesus Consoles the Women of Jerusalem

And there followed him a great multitude of people, and of women, who bewailed and lamented him. But Jesus turning to them, said: Daughters of Jerusalem, weep not over me; but weep for yourselves, and for your children. Luke 23:27-28

The title of this station has always struck me. Of course it is often rendered in another less confusing fashion, but it is the strangeness of this particular title that draws my attention, and therefore my reflection.  How is it that Jesus consoles the women by telling them to weep for themselves and their children?  For surely that would not be cause for consolation, but rather desolation.  How could He intend to console them by telling them to weep at all?

So often He overturns our expectations.  We want Him to tell us that everything will be okay and by okay we mean that we and our loved ones will not have to suffer.

Yet He does not tell us that.  Rather, He tells us to weep for ourselves and for our children—He tells us we may grieve for the sins that we commit and will commit, lament our failings, and even mourn our losses.

The women did not need to weep for Him.  He knew perfectly well why He suffered: to bring us salvation.  It is only we who do not know why we suffer that deserve such pity. We deserve those loving women's tears—and our own tears—because we have no concept of the numinous quality of suffering and cannot grasp its salvific effect.  Only He could truly understand such a mystery.  Only He could bear all our sins in the cross, carrying us to the Father and pouring out the last drop of His blood for us.

Let us take consolation in that love then.  For that is the only place where we can find true consolation, especially when the way before us seems dark and those about us struggle mightily with sufferings that seem beyond their strength to bear.

We may weep for them and for ourselves.  Yet let those tears not be in vain: let our weeping be united with His sacrifice that they may bear fruit in abundance.

My Jesus, laden with sorrows, I weep for the offences I have committed against Thee, because of the pains they have deserved, and still more because of the displeasure they have caused Thee, who hast loved me so much.  It is Thy love, more than the fear of hell, which causes me to weep for my sins.  My Jesus, I love Thee more than myself; I repent of having offended Thee.  Never permit me to offend Thee again.  Grant that I may love Thee always; and then do with me what Thou wilt. (From the Stations of the Cross according to Saint Alphonsus Liguori.)

VII. Jesus Falls the Second Time

V. We adore Thee, O Christ, and we bless Thee.
R. Because by Thy holy cross, Thou hast redeemed the world.

It is harder the second time that you fall.  The first time it is easier to get up and go on, thinking that you will not fall again.  The second time you may not be able to bear the thought of the pain that you know will ensue when you fall again and the more you fall the more likely you will begin to think with trepidation about the likelihood of falling again.

Christ's second fall must have caused Him so much pain, shaking His entire body with excruciating agony, crushing Him to the ground.  He must have known that He would fall again in His weakened state.  Yet for love of us He got up again and went on.

We must do the same.  When we confess our sins, we might like to think that we will not fall again, but we know also that we are weak.  Our crosses weigh us down so much that we cannot always stand strong beneath them.  No matter how we struggle onward, we fall again.  In those falls we can find humiliation, but then also we can find humility.  We can separate our image of ourselves from our falls and remember that we are children of God, that we belong to Him and that our sins can never mar His image in us so long as we keep turning back to Him.

My most gentle, Jesus, how many times Thou hast pardoned me, and how many times have I fallen again, and begun again to offend Thee!  Oh, by the merits of this new fall, give me the necessary help to persevere in Thy grace until death.  Grant that in all temptations which assail me I may always commend myself to Thee.  I love Thee, Jesus, my love; I repent of having offended Thee.  Never permit me to offend Thee again.  Grant that I may love Thee always; and then do with me what Thou wilt.  (From the Stations of the Cross according to Saint Alphonsus Liguori.)

VI. Veronica Wipes the Face of Jesus

V. We adore Thee, O Christ, and we bless Thee.

R. Because by Thy Holy Cross Thou hast redeemed the world.

Do you think Veronica knew what she would do when she stepped out of the crowd to come to Christ as He carried the cross, His face disfigured by blood and grime?  Why did she not hide behind the others, expecting someone else to do something if anything could be done?

Perhaps Christ Himself caught her eye.  Perhaps she saw in that look such a longing for her love that she no longer cared what others would think and no longer cared what would happen if she stepped out.  His love has given so many the courage to die as martyrs.  It certainly would have been enough to compel her toward Him, His look answering the longing in her own heart.

When she reached Him, she must have wanted desperately to do something for Him.  She had nothing to give Him, no way to save Him.  Surely she must have felt powerless and hopeless in the face of such suffering.

Yet she did not let her powerlessness stop her.  She took off her own veil to wipe His face.  She did not lament the fact that she could not do more or that she could not remove His suffering, but she contented herself with making her own small act of love by wiping His face.  With her love, she brought Him consolation and at the same time accepted the Providence of God and the sacrifice of Christ her Lord whom she could not yet have fully known.

She expected nothing in return, but He gave her the image of His face impressed upon her veil.  What a great gift for so little!

Is it not so in our own lives as well?  We have nothing to give.  We are like the widow who can only give two pence.  Yet when we give what we do have in all of our weakness we find that God repays us with unfathomable generosity.

How can He love us so much?  And all He asks is that we love Him, thereby opening our hearts to His love...

V. Jesus is Helped by Simon

V. We adore Thee, O Christ, and we bless Thee.

R. Because by Thy holy Cross, Thou hast redeemed the world.

And they forced one Simon a Cyrenian who passed by, coming out of the country...to take up his cross. (Mark 15:21)


Why was Simon of Cyrene chosen to be the one to help Christ when He grew so weak that the soldiers feared He would die before He reached the place of crucifixion?  The man was chosen apparently at random from the crowd.  He did not wish it.  Perhaps he even averted his gaze and tried to hide behind others to escape notice when the soldiers sought a man to help this seeming criminal.

Yet our Lord had chosen him from all eternity.  By His will, Simon came forth from the crowd, forced by the soldiers, to help Him with the weight of the cross and thereby with the weight of all our sins.

So too it is with our own cross.  Although we may hide or avert our eyes, we are forced to bear the weight of suffering whether we recognize in it our Lord's cross or mistake it for a punishment or something to avoid at all costs or to remove at the earliest opportunity.

Did Simon grudge those moments carrying the cross with Christ?  Perhaps He saw in Christ's gaze a look of such gratitude that he felt embarrassed for his reluctance.

If only we could see Christ look at us as we shoulder our burdens and bear our sufferings.  Then it would seem a light yoke indeed to lift our end of the cross and spare Him some pain by our loving gift.  If only we desired more the salvation of souls—if only we desired it more than our own comfort.  If only we loved Him more than we love ourselves.

My most sweet Jesus, I will not refuse the Cross, as the Cyrenian did; I accept it; I embrace it. I accept in particular the death Thou hast destined for me; with all the pains that may accompany it; I unite it to Thy death, I offer it to Thee. Thou hast died for love of me; I will die for love of Thee, and to please Thee. Help me by Thy grace. I love Thee, Jesus my love; I repent of having offended Thee. Never permit me to offend Thee again. Grant that I may love Thee always; and then do with me what Thou wilt. (From the Stations of the Cross according to Saint Alphonsus Liguori.)

IV. Jesus Meets His Mother

V. We adore Thee, O Christ, and we bless Thee.

R. Because by Thy holy Cross, Thou hast redeemed the world.

How could our Lady bear to see her Son suffer so dreadfully?  Every mother's heart aches for her children and she longs to be able to take those pains herself so that sometimes she offers a greater sacrifice by seeing others suffer than by suffering herself.  Mothers hate to feel powerless, for they must reach out to serve, to love, to lift up: it is their very nature.

Yet Mary, the Mother of God, did not try to take away her Son's suffering as she followed Him on the way to the cross.  Her willingness to suffer with Him by seeing Him suffer united her loving heart with His.

When finally she broke through the crowd to meet Him face to face, the tears must have streamed down her wordless face that saw His face so disfigured.  She must have longed to take Him into her arms to comfort Him as she had when He had been a little child, but she could not, for that would have renewed His pains a thousand-fold.

Perhaps she reached out to touch Him gently, her fingertips softly caressing His cheek in the only place still unhurt.  In that touch, He who had felt power flow out of Him so many times to heal must also have felt power flow into Him: the power of His mother's love, a constant love that embraced the will of the Father in all its unpleasant manifestations.  So too in the meeting of their gaze must love have flowed.  In that moment, the God of the universe drew strength from His dear creation.

In our sufferings, may we look to our Blessed Mother, knowing that she longs to take away our pain and grief, but knowing also that she bears to see us suffer out of love.  She knows that what our Lord allows to happen to us out of His most abundant Providence will transform us, transfiguring the muck of our lives into a brilliant pearl to offer Him.

My most loving Jesus, by the sorrow Thou didst experience in this meeting, grant me the grace of a truly devoted love for Thy most holy Mother. And thou, my Queen, who wast overwhelmed with sorrow, obtain for me by thy intercession a continual and tender remembrance of the Passion of thy Son. I love Thee, Jesus my love; I repent of ever having offended Thee. Never permit me to offend Thee again. Grant that I may love Thee always; and then do with me what Thou wilt. (From the Stations of the Cross according to Saint Alphonsus Liguori.)

III. Jesus Falls the First Time

V. We adore Thee, O Christ, and we bless Thee.

R. Because by Thy holy Cross, Thou hast redeemed the world.

We have such a fear of falling—a fear of failure.  We do anything we can to avoid admitting our own brokenness, our own inadequacy.

Do you think Christ thought of that as He fell beneath the weight of the cross?

Imagine Him, fallen on one knee, barely keeping from pitching head-first upon the ground, and then imagine Him turning to look at you, as if to say: "See, I have fallen.  I will get up and go on for love of you.  Will you get up and go on for love of Me?"

When we fall, we do not want to get up.  We want to remain where we lie.  After all, if we do not rise we cannot fall again.  If we are failures, we need not fear failing.

Yet we must strip aside those lies.  We must stand up again from each fall no matter if we know that we shall fall again.

He knew that He would fall again.  He knew how painful those falls would be.  At least we are spared that knowledge.  We do not know when or how we will fail.  We do know, however, that we weak mortal creatures will fall as surely as did our Lord beneath the weight of our sins.

If He could get up and go on, so can we because He told us to follow Him.  He would not have said it were it not possible.  Therefore, even from the depths of our failures and inadequacies causing us to muck about in the mire, we can stand again, muddy and bloodstained perhaps, but with eyes flaming with the fire of love.

Only love will carry us up and onward.  Only love will bring us face to face with Him.

My beloved Jesus, it is not the weight of the Cross, but my sins, which have made Thee suffer so much pain. Ah, by the merits of this first fall, deliver me from the misfortune of falling into mortal sin. I love Thee, O my Jesus, with my whole heart; I repent of having offended Thee. Never permit me to separate myself from Thee again. Grant that I may love Thee always; and then do with me what Thou wilt. (From the Stations of the Cross according to Saint Alphonsus Liguori.)

II. Jesus Takes Up His Cross

(If you missed my introduction to these meditations on the Stations of the Cross you can find it here.)

The Second Station

Jesus Takes Up His Cross

If any man will come after Me, let him deny himself, and take up his cross, and follow Me. (Matthew 16:24)

Imagine Christ, having been scourged and crowned with thorns, wearied unto death and then they hold out the cross to Him.  Would you rush forward to embrace the cross in such a state?  Would you in any state?

Yet our Lord, with the fire of love burning so intensely within Him, embraced that cross as had never done any criminal before Him.  He chose to take it up.  He did not require the soldiers to force Him to carry it, even in his extreme weakness, even though He had already lost so much blood He could easily have been near to death.

Do you think He thought of you in that moment?  Why did He take up the cross except for love of you so why should He not have thought of you?

Perhaps then by thinking of Him we too can take up our crosses and follow Him.  We can embrace the cross that is so often our own selves with all our flaws and failings.  There are few things more difficult to bear than our own inadequacies.  Perhaps it is no accident that we were created in such a way that we can extend our arms to form a cross.

Yes, you are your own cross.

Be patient with yourself, be willing to suffer, and with that cross that is yourself step out following Him.  Imagine Him turn as He carries His own cross and smile at you in gratitude.  Seeing you follow Him makes His journey that much more bearable.

My most beloved Jesus, I embrace all the tribulations Thou hast destined for me until death. I beseech Thee, by the merits of the pain Thou didst suffer in carrying Thy Cross, to give me the necessary help to carry mine with perfect patience and resignation. I love Thee, Jesus my love; I repent of having offended Thee. Never permit me to separate myself from Thee again. Grant that I may love Thee always; and then do with me what Thou wilt. (From the Stations of the Cross according to Saint Alphonsus Liguori.)

I. Jesus is Condemned to Death

One of my earliest memories associated with church (aside from lying under the chairs to benefit from someone's ability to make origami water bombs and singing "I Sing a Song of the Saints of God" with the rhyming words such as "beast" and "priest" switched) is the praying of the Stations of the Cross and the singing of the Stabat Mater.  That memory became all the more precious to me once I discovered that Blessed Jacopone da Todi is credited with writing that beautiful Marian hymn.

The Stations of the Cross remains one of my favorite devotions.  What power there is in this meditation on the suffering that we wish to flee at all costs and that our Lord took on solely out of His great love for us.

Because of my attraction to this devotion, and impelled to take up some small Lenten practice here on the Interweb that the Holy Spirit may work through these petty words I scatter about now and again, it seems right to look at each of the stations throughout Lent.  So accompany me, if you will, on this journey with our Lord to find whatever insights He will give through these ponderings.

The First Station

Jesus is Condemned to Death

And [Pilate] entered into the hall again, and he said to Jesus: Whence art thou? But Jesus gave him no answer.  Pilate therefore saith to him: Speakest thou not to me? knowest thou not that I have power to crucify thee, and I have power to release thee?  Jesus answered: Thou shouldst not have any power against me, unless it were given thee from above. Therefore, he that hath delivered me to thee, hath the greater sin.
John 19:9-11


The power of Christ shines so brightly through its human shroud in His words answering Pilate.  There are thousands of responses He might have made to Pilate, but the fact that He chose these words must draw our attention to what He means.  One phrase in particular stands out in bold assertion:

Thou shouldst not have had any power against Me, unless it were given thee from above.

He might have said to Pilate: "I am not afraid of you because I know that My Father has given this power into your hands and it is My will to accomplish all that He desires of Me."  He might have said: "The Father's Providence has taken even your small part into account."  He might have said it hundreds of different ways.  The meaning remains the same: God, the Almighty Father, gives power to men that they may choose to do the most cruel and evil things because through the suffering that results He will work the greatest good any could ever imagine.

So it is in our lives.  Many things say to us in one way or another: "Look at the power I have over you.  Aren't you going to do something about it?"

Of course we do.  We complain.  We look for a way out.  We try to justify an easier path.

If only we could respond as boldly as our Lord: "No, you have no power over me except what has been given from above.  Therefore I will trust in the Father's Providence to arrange for good to come from all the suffering and evil in my life that I have no power over.  If I have not the power, He does."

Jesus, give us this grace, we beg You!

My adorable Jesus, it was not Pilate, no, it was my sins that condemned Thee to die. I beseech Thee, by the merits of this sorrowful journey, to assist my soul in its journey towards eternity. I love Thee, my beloved Jesus; I repent with my whole heart for having offended Thee. Never permit me to separate myself from Thee again. Grant that I may love Thee always; and then do with me what Thou wilt. (From the Stations of the Cross according to Saint Alphonsus Liguori.)