OFFICE FOR THE LITURGICAL CELEBRATIONS

OF THE SUPREME PONTIFF

WAY OF THE CROSS

AT THE COLOSSEUM
LED BY THE HOLY FATHER
POPE BENEDICT XVI

GOOD FRIDAY 2007

MEDITATIONS BY

Monsignor GIANFRANCO RAVASI

Prefect of the Ambrosian Library and Gallery
of Milan
 PRESENTATION

It was a late spring morning, somewhere between the years 30 and 33 of our era. In a street of
Jerusalem – which in centuries to come would be known simply as the “Via Dolorosa” – a small
procession was winding its way: escorted by a patrol of Roman soldiers, a man condemned to death
advanced, carrying the patibulum, the horizontal arm of a cross whose vertical arm was already
standing amid the stones of a small, rocky promontory called in Aramaic, Golgotha, and in Latin,
Calvary, “the place of the skull”.

This was the last chapter of a familiar story whose central figure is Jesus Christ, the man crucified
and humiliated, the Lord risen and glorious. It was a story that began in the darkness and gloom of
the evening before, beneath the olive branches of a field called Gethsemane, “the olive-press”. A
story that quickly unfolded in the strongholds of religious and political power and culminated in a
sentence of death. Yet the case of that condemned man was unlike that of so many other victims of
the brutal torture of crucifixion, which the Romans reserved for the punishment of revolutionaries
and slaves. Not even the tomb, offered by a man of means named Joseph of Arimathea, could be
the end of the story.

There would in fact be another chapter, astonishing and unexpected: the condemned man, Jesus of
Nazareth, would splendidly reveal another nature hidden beneath the features of his human
countenance and body: that of the Son of God. The end of the story was not the Cross and the
tomb, but rather the brilliant light of his Resurrection and his glory. As the Apostle Paul, a few
years later, would say: the one who renounced his glory to become powerless and weak like us, and
abased himself even to accepting a shameful death by crucifixion, was exalted by the Father, who
made him the Lord of earth and heaven, of history and eternity (cf. Phil 2:6-11).

For centuries Christians have retraced the steps of the Via Crucis, a path that leads to the hill of the
crucifixion, with their gaze fixed on its ultimate goal, the light of Easter. They have made that
journey as pilgrims along that same street in Jerusalem, but also in their cities, their churches and
their homes. For centuries writers and artists, both famous and forgotten, have sought to touch the
hearts of the faithful by bringing to life those steps or “stations”, making them moments of
meditation along the way to Golgotha. They have painted pictures ranging from the striking to the
ordinary, from the sublime to the simple, from the dramatic to the plain and unaffected.

In Rome, this spiritual journey in the footsteps of Jesus sets out anew each Good Friday, led by the
Pope, the Bishop of this City and the universal pastor, in union with Christians the world over. This
year’s reflections for each station are narrative and meditative in character, and follow the story of
the Passion as recounted by the Evangelist Saint Luke. They have been written by a biblist,
Monsignor Gianfranco Ravasi, prefect of the Ambrosian Library and Gallery in Milan, a cultural
institution founded four centuries ago by Cardinal Federico Borromeo, Archbishop of that city and a
cousin of Saint Charles Borromeo. A century ago, among its prefects, was Achille Ratti, the future
Pope Pius XI.

Let us now begin together this journey of prayer, not simply for the sake of remembering past
events and a tragic death, but to experience the crude realism of a story which nonetheless speaks of
hope, joy and salvation. Perhaps others who are still searching, uncertain and troubled will make
this journey alongside us. And as we make our way, step by step, along this path of suffering and of
light, we will be able to hear an echo of the stirring words of the Apostle Paul: “Death has been
swallowed up in victory. Where, O death, is your victory?… But thanks be to God, who gives us
the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ!” (1 Cor 15:54-55, 57).

***

OPENING PRAYER

The Holy Father:

In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.

R. Amen.

Dear brothers and sisters,

the shadows of evening have fallen on Rome,
just as they did that evening on the houses and gardens of Jerusalem.
We too will now go out to the olive trees of Gethsemane
and follow in the steps of Jesus of Nazareth
during the final hours of his life on earth.

It will be a journey into pain, solitude and cruelty,

into evil and death.
But it will also be a path trod in faith, hope and love,
because the tomb which is the final stop on our way
will not remain sealed for ever.
Once the darkness has passed,
at the dawn of Easter, the light of joy will arise,
silence will be replaced by the word of life
and death will give way to the glory of the Resurrection.

Let us now pray,

and join our words
to those spoken by an ancient voice of the Christian East.

Lord Jesus,
Grant us the tears we lack,
that our sins may be washed clean.
Grant us the courage to implore your mercy.
On the day of your final judgment
tear out the pages listing our sins
and consign them to oblivion.[1]

Lord Jesus,
you repeat to us this evening
the words you once spoke to Peter:
“Come, follow me”.
Obedient to your summons,
we wish to follow you, step by step,
along the way of your Passion,
so that we too may learn
to think as God thinks
and not by human standards.

Amen.

[1] NIL SORSKIJ (1433-1508), from the Penitential Prayer.

 S.P. 42: "Borromeo" Liturgy of the Hours miniated by Cristoforo de Predis, Cent. XV
Ambrosian Library

FIRST STATION
Jesus in the Garden of Olives

V/. Adoramus te, Christe, et benedicimus tibi.

R/. Quia per sanctam crucem tuam redemisti mundum.

From the Gospel according to Luke. 22:39-46

Jesus came out, and went, as was his custom, to the Mount of Olives; and the disciples followed
him. And when he came to the place, he said to them, "Pray that you may not enter into
temptation." And he withdrew from them about a stone’s throw, and knelt down and prayed,
"Father, if you are willing, remove this cup from me; nevertheless not my will but yours be done."
And when he rose from prayer, he came to the disciples and found them sleeping for sorrow, and he
said to them, "Why do you sleep? Rise and pray that you may not enter into temptation."

MEDITATION

When the veil of darkness descends upon Jerusalem, the olives of Gethsemane even today seem to
bring us back, with the rustling of their leaves, to that night of suffering and prayer that Jesus
experienced. He stands out, alone, at centre stage, kneeling on the soil of that garden. Like every
person facing death, Christ too is filled with anguish; indeed, the original word used by the
Evangelist Luke is "agonia", struggle. Jesus’ prayer is dramatic, tense as if in combat, and the sweat
streaked with blood running down his face is evidence of a harsh, bitter torment.
He cries out to heaven, to that Father who seems mysteriously silent: "Father, if you are willing,
remove this cup from me", the chalice of suffering and death. One dark night, on the banks of a
tributary of the Jordan, one of the patriarchs of Israel, Jacob, had also encountered God as someone
mysterious, and "wrestled with him until the breaking of the day"[2]. Praying at times of trial is an
experience which disturbs the body and soul alike, and Jesus, in the darkness of that evening,
"offered up prayers and supplications, with loud cries and tears, to him who was able to save him
from death"[3].

***

In the Christ of Gethsemane, struggling and filled with anguish, we see ourselves reflected,
whenever we pass through the night of searing pain, of separation from friends, of God’s silence. In
this sense, it has been said that Jesus "will be in agony until the end of the world: we cannot sleep
until that moment, for he seeks companionship and comfort"[4], like everyone else who suffers on
this earth. In him too, we see our own face, when it is wet with tears and racked by distress.

But Jesus’ struggle does not yield to the temptation of despair and surrender, but to a profession of
confident trust in the Father and his mysterious plan. In that bitter hour it is the words of the "Our
Father" that he holds out to us: "Pray that you may not enter into temptation… Not my will, but
yours be done!". And then an angel of consolation, strength and comfort appears, who helps Jesus,
and us, to persevere to the end of the journey.

All:

Pater noster, qui es in cælis:

sanctificetur nomen tuum;
adveniat regnum tuum;
fiat voluntas tua, sicut in cælo, et in terra.
Panem nostrum cotidianum da nobis hodie;
et dimitte nobis debita nostra,
sicut et nos dimittimus debitoribus nostris;
et ne nos inducas in tentationem;
sed libera nos a malo.

Stabat mater dolorosa,

iuxta crucem lacrimosa,
dum pendebat Filius.

[2] Cf. Genesis 32:23-32.

[3] Cf. Hebrews 5:7.

[4] Blaise Pascal, Pensées, No. 555, ed. Brunswieg.

 S.P. 42: "Borromeo" Liturgy of the Hours miniated by Cristoforo de Predis, Cent. XV
Ambrosian Library

SECOND STATION
Jesus is betrayed by Judas and arrested

V/. Adoramus te, Christe, et benedicimus tibi.

R/. Quia per sanctam crucem tuam redemisti mundum.

From the Gospel according to Luke. 22:47-53

While Jesus was still speaking, there came a crowd, and the man called Judas, one of the twelve,
was leading them. He drew near to Jesus to kiss him; but Jesus said to him, "Judas, would you
betray the Son of man with a kiss?" And when those who were about him saw what would follow,
they said, "Lord, shall we strike with the sword?" And one of them struck the slave of the high priest
and cut off his right ear. But Jesus said, "No more of this!" And he touched his ear and healed him.
Then Jesus said to the chief priests and officers of the temple and elders, who had come out against
him, "Have you come out as against a robber, with swords and clubs?" When I was with you day
after day in the temple, you did not lay hands on me. But this is your hour, and the power of
darkness."

MEDITATION

Amid the olives of Gethsemane, plunged in darkness, a small crowd now comes forward: leading
them is Judas, "one of the twelve", one of Jesus’ disciples. In Luke’s account he does not say a
single word, he is merely an icy presence. It almost seems that he does not succeed in kissing the
face of Jesus, stopped by the one voice that rings out, the voice of Christ himself: "Judas, would you
betray the Son of man with a kiss?" These words are regretful but firm; they lay bare the knot of
evil lodged in the restless, hardened heart of the disciple, who may have been disillusioned,
disappointed and on the verge of despair.

Down the centuries, that betrayal and that kiss have become a symbol for countless infidelities,
apostasies, deceptions. And so Christ faces another trial: betrayal and its resulting sense of
abandonment and isolation. This is not the kind of solitude he loved when he would withdraw to the
mountains to pray, it is not the interior solitude which is a source of peace and quiet, since it gives
us a glimpse of the mystery of the soul and of God. Rather, it is the bitter experience of all those
persons who, at this very moment when we are gathered here, as at other times of the day, find
themselves alone in a room, facing a bare wall or a silent telephone, forgotten by everyone because
they are elderly or infirm, foreigners or outsiders. Along with them, Jesus drinks from this chalice,
which contains the gall of abandonment, loneliness and hostility.

***

The scene of Gethsemane, then, suddenly comes alive: the earlier picture of prayer, solemn,
intimate and silent, is now replaced, beneath the olive trees, by agitation, uproar and even violence.
Yet Jesus remains always at the centre, unmoved. He knows full well that evil encircles human
history with its shroud of bullying, aggression, brutality: "This is your hour, and the power of
darkness".

Christ does not want his disciples, ready to draw their swords, to react to evil with evil, to violence
with more violence. He is certain that the power of darkness – apparently invincible and never sated
by its triumphs – is destined to be defeated. Night will give way to dawn, darkness to light, betrayal
to repentance, even for Judas. That is why, in spite of everything, we must continue to hope and to
love. As Jesus himself taught us on the mount of the Beatitudes, if a new and different world is to
come about, we need "to love our enemies and to pray for those who persecute us"[5].

All:

Pater noster, qui es in cælis:

sanctificetur nomen tuum;
adveniat regnum tuum;
fiat voluntas tua, sicut in cælo, et in terra.
Panem nostrum cotidianum da nobis hodie;
et dimitte nobis debita nostra,
sicut et nos dimittimus debitoribus nostris;
et ne nos inducas in tentationem;
sed libera nos a malo.

Cuius animam gementem,

contristatam et dolentem
pertransivit gladius.

[5] Matthew 5:44

 M.S. Vat. Lat. 2639 - Miniated by Nicola da Bologna (1370)
Vatican Apostolic Library

THIRD STATION
Jesus is condemned by the Sanhedrin

V/. Adoramus te, Christe, et benedicimus tibi.

R/. Quia per sanctam crucem tuam redemisti mundum.

From the Gospel according to Luke 22:66-71

When day came, the assembly of the elders of the people gathered together, both chief priests and
scribes; and they led him away to their council, and they said, "If you are the Christ, tell us." But he
said to them, "If I tell you, you will not believe; and if I ask you, you will not answer. But from now
on the Son of man shall be seated at the right hand of the power of God." And they all said, "Are
you the Son of God, then?" And he said to them, "You say that I am." And they said, "What further
testimony do we need? We have heard it ourselves from his own lips."

MEDITATION

The dawn of Good Friday is breaking from behind the Mount of Olives, after brightening the
valleys of the desert of Judah. The seventy-one members of the Sanhedrin, the highest Jewish
institution, are gathered in a semicircle around Jesus. The hearing is about to begin, and it will
follow the usual judiciary procedure: the identification of the defendant, the bringing of charges, the
hearing of witnesses. The trial concerns a religious matter which falls within the competence of that
tribunal. This is also clearly seen from the two principal questions: "Are you the Christ? … Are you
the Son of God?."

Jesus’ answer starts from an almost discouraging premise: "If I tell you, you will not believe; if I
ask you, you will not answer." He knows, then, that incomprehension, suspicion and
misunderstanding are in store for him. He can feel himself surrounded by a icy wall of distrust and
hostility, all the more oppressive because it is erected around him by his own religious and national
community. The Psalmist before him had experienced such disappointment: "If this had been done
by an enemy, I could bear his taunts; if a rival had risen against me, I could hide from him. But it is
you, my own companion, my intimate friend! How close was the friendship between us. We walked
in together in harmony in the house of God"[6].

***

And yet, despite that incomprehension, Jesus does not hesitate to proclaim the mystery within him,
a mystery which from that moment on will be revealed as in an epiphany. Using the language of
scripture, he acknowledges that he is "the Son of man, seated at the right hand of the power of
God." The messianic glory awaited by Israel is now manifested in this prisoner. Indeed, it is the Son
of God who now, paradoxically, appears in the guise of one accused. Jesus’ response – "I am" –,
which at first sight seems like the confession of a crime, is in reality a solemn profession of his
divinity. In the Bible, the words "I am" are the name and title of God himself[7].

The accusation, which will end in a death sentence, thus becomes a revelation, and also our own
profession of faith in Christ, the Son of God. That defendant, humiliated by a disdainful court, by
the sumptuous courtroom, by a sentence already sealed, reminds us of our own duty to bear witness
to the truth. A witness which must be forcefully rendered even when there is a powerful temptation
to hide, to give up, to go along with the prevailing opinion. In the words of a young Jewish woman
destined to die in a concentration camp[8]: "each new horror or crime, we must oppose with a new
fragment of truth and goodness which we have gained in ourselves. We can suffer, but we must not
surrender".

All:

Pater noster, qui es in cælis:

sanctificetur nomen tuum;
adveniat regnum tuum;
fiat voluntas tua, sicut in cælo, et in terra.
Panem nostrum cotidianum da nobis hodie;
et dimitte nobis debita nostra,
sicut et nos dimittimus debitoribus nostris;
et ne nos inducas in tentationem;
sed libera nos a malo.

O quam tristis et afflicta

fuit illa benedicta
mater Unigeniti!
[6] Psalm 55(54): 12-15.

[7] Cf. Exodus 3:14.

[8] Etty Hillesum, Diary 1941-1943 (3 July 1943).

 M.S. Vat. Lat. 2639 - Miniated by Nicola da Bologna (1370)
Vatican Apostolic Library

FOURTH STATION
Jesus is denied by Peter

V/. Adoramus te, Christe, et benedicimus tibi.

R/. Quia per sanctam crucem tuam redemisti mundum.

From the Gospel according to Luke 22:54-62

Then they seized Jesus and led him away, bringing him into the high priest’s house. Peter followed
at a distance; and when they had kindled a fire in the middle of the courtyard and sat down
together, Peter sat among them. Then a maid, seeing him as he sat in the light and gazing at him,
said, "This man was with him." But he denied it, saying, "Woman, I do not know him." And a little
later someone else saw him and said, "You also are one of them." But Peter said, "Man, I am not."
And after an interval of about an hour still another insisted, saying, "Certainly this man was also
with him; for he is a Galilean." But Peter said, "Man, I do not know what you are saying." And
immediately, while he was still speaking, the cock crowed. And the Lord turned and looked at Peter.
And Peter remembered the word of the Lord, how he had said to him, "Before the cock crows today,
you will deny me three times." And he went out and wept bitterly.

MEDITATION

Let us go back to the night we had left behind when we entered the hall where Jesus’ first trial was
taking place. The darkness and the cold are pierced by the flames of a brazier in the courtyard of the
palace of the Sanhedrin. The servants and guards are holding out their hands to the warmth; their
faces are lighted up. And three voices, one after another, speak out, and three hands point towards a
face they recognize, the face of Peter.

The first is a woman’s voice. She is one of the maids in the palace; looking the disciple in the eye,
she exclaims, "You too were with Jesus!" A man’s voice follows: "You are one of them!" Another
man later makes the same accusation, after hearing Peter’s northern accent: "You were with him!".
Faced with these declarations, the Apostle, as if in a desperate crescendo of self-defence, does not
hesitate to lie: "I do not know Jesus! I am not one of his disciples! I don’t know what you are
talking about!" The light of that brazier penetrates far beyond Peter’s face, it lays bare his wretched
heart, his frailty, his selfishness, his fear. And yet only a few hours earlier, he had proclaimed, "Even
though all fall away, I will not! … If I must die with you, I will not deny you!"[9]

***

The curtain, however, does not fall on this betrayal, as was the case with Judas. That night a noise
pierces the silence of Jerusalem, but above all Peter’s own conscience: the sound of the cock
crowing. Precisely at that moment Jesus comes forth from the tribunal that has condemned him.
Luke describes the exchange of glances between Christ and Peter with a word in Greek that
suggests a penetrating stare at someone’s face. But, as the Evangelist notes, this is not just any man
who looks at another; it is "the Lord", whose eyes peer into the depths of the heart, into the deepest
secrets of a person’s soul.

From the eyes of the Apostle fall tears of repentance. In his story are condensed countless stories of
infidelity and conversion, of weakness and liberation. "I wept, and I believed!" – in these two
simple words, centuries later, a convert [10] would compare his own experience to that of Peter,
thus speaking for all of us who daily make petty betrayals, protecting ourselves with cowardly
justifications, letting ourselves be overcome with base fears. But, like the Apostle, we too can take
the road that brings us to Christ’s gaze and we can hear him give us the same charge: you, too,
"once you have turned back, strengthen your brothers!" [11].

All:

Pater noster, qui es in cælis:

sanctificetur nomen tuum;
adveniat regnum tuum;
fiat voluntas tua, sicut in cælo, et in terra.
Panem nostrum cotidianum da nobis hodie;
et dimitte nobis debita nostra,
sicut et nos dimittimus debitoribus nostris;
et ne nos inducas in tentationem;
sed libera nos a malo.

Quæ mærebat et dolebat

pia mater, cum videbat
Nati pœnas incliti.

[9] Mark 14:29, 31.

[10] FRANÇOIS-RENÉ DE CHATEAUBRIAND, The Genius of Christianity (1802).

[11] Luke 22:32.

 S.P. 42: "Borromeo" Liturgy of the Hours miniated by Cristoforo de Predis, Cent. XV
Ambrosian Library

FIFTH STATION
Jesus is judged by Pilate

V/. Adoramus te, Christe, et benedicimus tibi.

R/. Quia per sanctam crucem tuam redemisti mundum.

From the Gospel according to Luke. 23:13-25

Pilate called together the chief priests and the rulers and the people, and said to them, “You
brought me this man as one who was perverting the people; and after examining him before you,
behold, I did not find this man guilty of any of your charges against him; neither did Herod, for he
sent him back to us. Behold, nothing deserving death has been done by him; I will therefore chastise
him and release him.” But they all cried out together, “Away with this man, and release to us
Barabbas – a man who had been thrown into prison for an insurrection started in the city, and for
murder. Pilate addressed them once more, desiring to release Jesus; but they shouted out, “Crucify,
crucify him!” A third time he said to them, “Why, what evil has he done? I have found in him no
crime deserving death; I will therefore chastise him and release him. But they were urgent,
demanding with loud cries that he should be crucified. And their voices prevailed. So Pilate gave
sentence that their demand should be granted. He released the man who had been thrown into
prison for insurrection and murder, whom they asked for; but Jesus he delivered up to their will.

MEDITATION

Jesus is now surrounded by the insignia of empire, the banners, eagles and standards of Roman
authority, in yet another fortress of power, the palace of the governor Pontius Pilate, an obscure man
whose name is overlooked in the histories of the Roman Empire. And yet it is a name which is
heard every Sunday throughout the world, precisely because of the trial now taking place: for
Christians proclaim in the Creed that Christ “was crucified under Pontius Pilate”. On the one hand,
he seems to incarnate repressive brutality, inasmuch as Luke, on one page of his Gospel, speaks of
the day in the temple when he had mingled the blood of Jews with that of the sacrificial animals
[12]. At his side we encounter another dark, strange power: the savage power of the masses,
manipulated by occult forces hatching plots in the shadows. The result is the decision to release an
insurgent and a murderer, Barabbas.

On the other hand, however, a different image of Pilate emerges: he seems to stand for the
traditional equity and impartiality of Roman law. Three times, in fact, Pilate attempts to release
Jesus for insufficient evidence, imposing at most the disciplinary sanction of scourging. The charges
against him did not stand up to a serious judicial inquiry. As all the Evangelists show, Pilate
displays a certain openness, a receptiveness that nonetheless slowly fades away and dies.

***

Pressured by public opinion, Pilate embodies an attitude which appears common enough in our own
times: indifference, lack of concern, personal expediency. To avoid trouble and to get ahead, we are
ready to trample on truth and justice. Explicit immorality generates at least a shock or some
reaction, whereas this approach is pure amorality; it paralyzes the conscience, stifles remorse, and
blunts the mind. Indifference is the lingering death of authentic humanity.

The outcome is found in Pilate’s final choice. As the ancient Romans would say, a false and
apathetic justice is like a spiderweb in which gnats are caught and die, but which birds can tear
apart by the strength of their flight. Jesus, one of the little ones of the earth, powerless to utter a
word, is smothered by this web. And as we ourselves so often do, Pilate looks on from afar, washes
his hands and, as an alibi, tosses off – so the Evangelist John tells us [13] – the age-old question
typical of every form of scepticism and ethical relativism: “What is truth?”.

All:

Pater noster, qui es in cælis:

sanctificetur nomen tuum;
adveniat regnum tuum;
fiat voluntas tua, sicut in cælo, et in terra.
Panem nostrum cotidianum da nobis hodie;
et dimitte nobis debita nostra,
sicut et nos dimittimus debitoribus nostris;
et ne nos inducas in tentationem;
sed libera nos a malo.

Quis est homo qui non fleret,

matrem Christi si videret
in tanto supplicio?

[12] Cf. Luke 13:1.

[13] John 18:38

 S.P. 42: "Borromeo" Liturgy of the Hours miniated by Cristoforo de Predis, Cent. XV
Ambrosian Library

SIXTH STATION
Jesus is scourged and crowned with thorns

V/. Adoramus te, Christe, et benedicimus tibi.

R/. Quia per sanctam crucem tuam redemisti mundum.

From the Gospel according to Luke. 22:63-65

Now the men who were holding Jesus mocked him and beat him; they also blindfolded him and
asked him, “Prophesy! Who is it that struck you?” and they spoke many other words against him,
reviling him.

From the Gospel according to John. 19:2-3

And the soldiers plaited a crown of thorns, and put it on his head, and arrayed him in a purple
robe; they came up to him, saying, “Hail, King of the Jews!” and struck him with their hands.

MEDITATION

One day, walking in the valley of the Jordan not far from Jericho, Jesus halted and spoke to the
Twelve with words of fire, words they found impossible to understand: “Behold, we are going up to
Jerusalem, and the Son of Man will be delivered to the Gentiles, and will be mocked and
shamefully treated and spit upon; and they will scourge him and kill him, ….[14]”. Now at last, the
full meaning of those enigmatic words is revealed: in the courtyard of the pretorium, the residence
of the Roman governor in Jerusalem, the grim ritual of torture has begun, while outside the palace
the murmur of the crowd begins to swell, in expectation of the spectacle of the death march.
In that room closed to the public, things take place that will be repeated down the centuries in a
thousand sadistic and perverse ways, in the darkness of countless prison cells. Jesus is not only
physically struck but mocked. Indeed, the Evangelist Luke, to describe those insults, uses the word
“blaspheme”, as if to bring out the deepest meaning of the violent abuse which the soldiers heap on
their victim. And the torments inflicted upon Christ’s flesh are accompanied by a gruesome farce
that is an affront to his personal dignity.

***

The Evangelist John recounts that insulting parody, based on the popular game of the mock king.
There is a crown whose points are made of thorny twigs; the royal purple is replaced by a red
mantle; there is the imperial salute: “Hail, Caesar!”. And yet, behind all this mockery, we can see a
glorious sign: yes, Jesus is reviled like a mock king, yet in reality he is the true Sovereign of history.

When, in the end, his kingship will be revealed – as another Evangelist, Matthew, tells us[15] – he
will condemn every torturer and tyrant, and summon into his glory not only their victims, but all
those who visited prisoners, healed the wounded and the suffering, and assisted the hungry, the
thirsty and the persecuted. Now, however, the face transfigured on Tabor [16] is disfigured; the one
who is “the reflection of God’s glory”[17] is darkened and abased; as Isaiah had proclaimed, the
messianic Servant of the Lord has his back furrowed by the lash, his beard plucked, his face
covered with spittle [18]. In him, the God of glory, our suffering humanity is revealed; in him, the
Lord of history, the frailty of every creature is revealed; in him, the Creator of the world, the painful
cry of every living creature finds an echo.

All:

Pater noster, qui es in cælis:

sanctificetur nomen tuum;
adveniat regnum tuum;
fiat voluntas tua, sicut in cælo, et in terra.
Panem nostrum cotidianum da nobis hodie;
et dimitte nobis debita nostra,
sicut et nos dimittimus debitoribus nostris;
et ne nos inducas in tentationem;
sed libera nos a malo.

Pro peccatis suae gentis

vidit Iesum in tormentis
et flagellis subditum.

[14] Luke 18:31-32

[15] Cf. Matthew 25:31-46.
[16] Cf. Luke 9:29.
[17] Cf. Hebrews 1:3.
[18] Cf. Isaiah 50:6
 S.P. 42: "Borromeo" Liturgy of the Hours miniated by Cristoforo de Predis, Cent. XV
Ambrosian Library

SEVENTH STATION
Jesus takes up his cross

V/. Adoramus te, Christe, et benedicimus tibi.

R/. Quia per sanctam crucem tuam redemisti mundum.

From the Gospel according to Mark. 15:20

And when they had mocked him, they stripped him of the purple cloak, and put his own clothes on
him. And they led him out to crucify him.

MEDITATION

In the courtyards of the imperial palace the grim sport has ended, the silly royal robes have been
taken away, the doors open. And Jesus comes forth, dressed in his own clothing, in a tunic “without
seam, woven from top to bottom”[19]. His shoulders are bent beneath the cross-beam which will
receive his arms and then be attached to the pole of the crucifix. His is a silent presence, his
footprints stain with blood that street of Jerusalem which even today bears the name “Via
Dolorosa”.

Now begins the real Way of the Cross, the route we repeat tonight, which leads to the hill of
executions, outside the walls of the holy city. Jesus slowly makes his way forward, his mangled,
weak body staggering beneath the weight of the cross. Tradition has symbolically marked that route
by three falls. They reflect the unending story of all those women and men laid low by poverty or
starvation: frail children, the aged and infirm, the weak and the poor, those from whose veins all
strength has been sucked.

Those falls also contain the story of all those who are desolate and unhappy, ignored by the busy
and distracted crowd which hurries by. In Christ, bent beneath the weight of the cross, we see that
frail and sickly humanity of which the prophet Isaiah says[20] “deep from the earth shall you speak,
from low in the dust your words shall come; your voice shall come from the ground like the voice
of a ghost, and your speech shall whisper out of the dust.”

***

Today too, as then, surrounding Jesus as he picks himself up and pushes forward carrying the wood
of the cross, is the daily life of the street, with its business deals, its bright shop windows, its pursuit
of pleasure. Surrounding him, however, there is not only hostility or indifference. Even today there
are those who choose to follow him, to walk in his footsteps. They have heard the summons that he
had issued one day as he walked through the fields of Galilee: “If anyone would come after me, let
him deny himself and take up his cross daily and follow me”[21]. “Let us, then, go forth to him
outside the camp and bear the abuse he endured”[22]. At the end of the Via Dolorosa is not only the
mount of death or the darkness of the tomb, but also the mount of his glorious Ascension, the mount
of light.

All:

Pater noster, qui es in cælis:

sanctificetur nomen tuum;
adveniat regnum tuum;
fiat voluntas tua, sicut in cælo, et in terra.
Panem nostrum cotidianum da nobis hodie;
et dimitte nobis debita nostra,
sicut et nos dimittimus debitoribus nostris;
et ne nos inducas in tentationem;
sed libera nos a malo.

Quis non posset contristari,

piam matrem contemplari
dolentem cum Filio?

[19] John 19:23.

[20] Isaiah 29:4.

[21] Luke 9:23

[22] Hebrews 13:13

 M.S. Vat. Lat. 2639 - Miniated by Nicola da Bologna (1370)
Vatican Apostolic Library

EIGHTH STATION
Jesus is helped by the Cyrenean to carry his cross

V/. Adoramus te, Christe, et benedicimus tibi.

R/. Quia per sanctam crucem tuam redemisti mundum.

From the Gospel according to Luke. 23:26

And as they led him away, they seized one Simon of Cyrene, who was coming in from the country,
and laid on him the cross, to carry it behind Jesus.

MEDITATION

He was returning from the countryside, perhaps after a few hours of work. Awaiting him at home
were the preparations for the holy day: sunset, in fact, would mark the beginning of the Sabbath, as
the first stars began to shine in the evening sky. His name was Simon; he was a Jew, a native of
Cyrene, a city on the Libyan strand which was home to a large community of the Jewish
Diaspora[23]. A curt order by the Roman soldiers escorting Jesus stops him in his tracks and forces
him to take a turn at carrying the cross of that half-dead convict.

Simon was a chance passerby; he did not know how extraordinary that encounter was to be. As
someone once wrote[24], “how many men over the centuries would have wanted to be there, in his
place, to have been passing by just at that moment. But it was too late; he was the one who had
passed by and over the centuries he would never have yielded his place to others.” Here we see the
mystery of the unexpected encounter with God which happens in so many lives. Paul, the Apostle,
had been intercepted, seized and “overcome”[25] by Christ on the way to Damascus. And this led
him to ponder anew those astonishing words of God: “I have been found by those who did not seek
me; I have shown myself to those who did not ask for me”[26].

***

God lies in waiting along the paths of our daily life. At times he knocks on our door and asks to sit
at our table to eat with us[27]. Even a chance encounter, like that of Simon of Cyrene, can become a
gift of conversion. Indeed, the Evangelist Mark will name of the sons of that man, Alexander and
Rufus, as fellow Christians[28]. The Cyrenean is thus the emblem of the mysterious embrace of
divine grace and human effort. In the end, the Evangelist paints him as the disciple who “takes up
the cross behind Jesus” and follows in his footsteps [29].

His gesture, carried out under constraint, becomes a symbol for every act of solidarity with the
suffering, the oppressed, the weary. The Cyreanean thus represents the innumerable host of
generous persons, missionaries, Samaritans who do not “pass by on the other side” of the street
[30], but bend low to assist the suffering, to lift them up and to give them support. Over Simon’s
head and shoulders, bent beneath the weight of the cross, echo the words of Saint Paul: “Bear one
another’s burdens, and so fulfil the law of Christ”[31].

All:

Pater noster, qui es in cælis:

sanctificetur nomen tuum;
adveniat regnum tuum;
fiat voluntas tua, sicut in cælo, et in terra.
Panem nostrum cotidianum da nobis hodie;
et dimitte nobis debita nostra,
sicut et nos dimittimus debitoribus nostris;
et ne nos inducas in tentationem;
sed libera nos a malo.

Tui Nati vulnerati,

tam dignati pro me pati,
pœnas mecum divide.

[23] Cf, Acts 2:10; 6:9; 13:1.

[24] CHARLES PÉGUY, The Mystery of the Charity of Saint Joan of Arc (1910).
[25] Philippians 3:12.
[26] Romans 10:20.
[27] Cf. Revelation 3:20.
[28] Cf. Mark 15:21.
[29] Cf. Luke 9:23.
[30] Cf. Luke 10:30-37.
[31] Galatians 6:2.
 S.P. 42: "Borromeo" Liturgy of the Hours miniated by Cristoforo de Predis, Cent. XV
Ambrosian Library

NINTH STATION
Jesus meets the women of Jerusalem

V/. Adoramus te, Christe, et benedicimus tibi.

R/. Quia per sanctam crucem tuam redemisti mundum.

From the Gospel according to Luke. 23:27-31

And there followed him a great multitude of the people, and of women who bewailed and lamented
him. But Jesus turning to them said: "Daughters of Jerusalem, do not weep for me, but weep for
yourselves and for your children. For behold, the days are coming when they will say, 'Blessed are
the barren, and the wombs that never bore, and the breasts that never gave suck! 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?"

MEDITATION

On that spring Friday, the path leading to Golgotha was thronged not only with the idle, the curious
and those hostile to Jesus. There was also a group of women, perhaps the members of a group
devoted to consolation and ritual lamentation for the dying and those condemned to death. Christ,
during his earthly life, had overcome convention and prejudice, and had often surrounded himself
with women, conversing with them, listening to their troubles, small and great: from the fever of
Peter’s mother-in-law to the tragedy of the widow of Nain, from the weeping prostitute to the
interior anguish of Mary Magdalen, from the affection of Martha and Mary to the sufferings of the
woman afflicted by hemorrages, from the young daughter of Jairus to the crippled elderly woman,
from the noble Joanna, the wife of Chuza, to the poor widow and the women in the crowd that
followed him.

Jesus, to his final hour, is thus surrounded by a world of mothers, daughters and sisters. Standing at
his side we now can also imagine all those women who have been abused and raped, ostracized and
submitted to shameful tribal practices, anxious women left to raise their children alone, Jewish and
Palestinian mothers, and those from all countries at war, widows and the elderly forgotten by their
children… a long line of women who bear witness before an arid and pitiless world to the gift of
tenderness and compassion, even as they did for the Son of Mary on that late morning in Jerusalem.
They teach us the beauty of emotions: that we should not be ashamed when our heart is moved by
compassion, when tears sometimes come to our eyes, when we feel the need of a caress and
comforting words.

***

Jesus does not disregard the charitable concern shown by those women, just as once he had
accepted other gestures of kindness. But paradoxically, he is now the one who is concerned for the
sufferings about to befall those “daughters of Jerusalem”: “Do not weep for me, but weep for
yourselves and for your children.” Looming on the horizon is a firestorm about to break upon the
people and the holy city, a “dry wood” ready to stir up the blaze.

Jesus’ gaze turns to the divine judgement soon to be visited on the evil, injustice, and hatred that
feed that flame. Christ is distressed at the grief that is about to overtake those mothers once God’s
just intervention bursts in upon history. But his ominous words are not the seal set upon a hopeless
fate, because he speaks with the voice of the prophets, a voice that creates not suffering and death,
but conversion and life: “Seek the Lord and live… Then shall the maidens rejoice in the dance, and
the young men and the old shall be merry. I will turn their mourning into joy, I will comfort them,
and give them gladness for sorrow”[32].

All:

Pater noster, qui es in cælis:

sanctificetur nomen tuum;
adveniat regnum tuum;
fiat voluntas tua, sicut in cælo, et in terra.
Panem nostrum cotidianum da nobis hodie;
et dimitte nobis debita nostra,
sicut et nos dimittimus debitoribus nostris;
et ne nos inducas in tentationem;
sed libera nos a malo.

Eia mater, fons amoris,

me sentire vim doloris
fac, ut tecum lugeam.

[32] Amos 5:6; Jeremiah 31:13.

 S.P. 42: "Borromeo" Liturgy of the Hours miniated by Cristoforo de Predis, Cent. XV
Ambrosian Library

TENTH STATION
Jesus is crucified

V/. Adoramus te, Christe, et benedicimus tibi.

R/. Quia per sanctam crucem tuam redemisti mundum.

From the Gospel according to Luke. 23:33-38

And when they came to the place which is called The Skull, there they crucified him, and the
criminals, one on the right and one on the left. And Jesus said, “Father, forgive them; for they know
not what they do.” And they cast lots to divide his garments. And the people stood by, watching; but
the rulers scoffed at him, saying, “He saved others; let him save himself, if he is the Christ of God,
his Chosen One!” The soldiers also mocked him, coming up and offering him vinegar, and saying,
“If you are the King of the Jews, save yourself!” There was also an inscription over him, “This is
the King ofthe Jews.”

MEDITATION

It was merely a rocky spur, called Golgotha in Aramaic and, in Latin, Calvary, “the Skull”, perhaps
because of its physical appearance. On that peak rise three crosses, the crosses of men sentenced to
death, two “criminals”, probably anti-Roman revolutionaries, and Jesus. The last hours of Christ’s
earthly life begin, hours marked by the rending of his flesh, the dislocation of his bones, progressive
asphyxia, interior desolation. These are hours that demonstrate the complete solidarity of the Son of
God with human beings who suffer and slowly die.
A poet[33] once said: “The thief on the left and the thief on the right / felt only the nails driven into
their hands. / But Christ felt the pain offered for salvation, / his side torn open, his heart run
through. / It is his heart that burned. / His heart consumed by love.” Truly, all around that cross
there seem to echo the words of Isaiah: “He was wounded for our transgressions, he was bruised for
our iniquities; upon him was the chastisement that made us whole, and with his stripes we are
healed. He makes himself an offering for sin”[34]. The outstretched arms of that mangled body
want to draw to themselves the entire horizon, embracing humanity, “as a hen gathers her brood
under her wings”[35]. For this was his mission: “When I am lifted up from the earth, I will draw all
men to myself”[36].

***

Beneath that dying body files the crowd, anxious to “view” a ghastly spectacle. It is a scene of
superficiality, crass curiosity, thrill-seeking. A picture in which we can also see a society like our
own, which looks for stimulation and excess as if they were a kind of drug capable of arousing a
sluggish soul, an unfeeling heart, a darkened mind.

Beneath that cross there is also cold hard cruelty, that of the leaders and the soldiers who in their
ruthlessness are even capable of profaning suffering and death by their mockery: “If you are the
King of the Jews, save yourself!” They are unaware that their words of sarcasm and the official title
above the cross – “This is the King of the Jews” – are full of truth. Certainly, Jesus does not come
down from the cross in a sudden dramatic turnabout: he does not desire servile obedience based on
miracles, but a faith that is free, a love that is authentic. And yet, in his abject humiliation and in the
very powerlessness of his death, he opens the door to glory and life, and reveals himself as the true
Lord and King of history and of the world.

All:

Pater noster, qui es in cælis:

sanctificetur nomen tuum;
adveniat regnum tuum;
fiat voluntas tua, sicut in cælo, et in terra.
Panem nostrum cotidianum da nobis hodie;
et dimitte nobis debita nostra,
sicut et nos dimittimus debitoribus nostris;
et ne nos inducas in tentationem;
sed libera nos a malo.

Fac ut ardeat cor meum

in amando Christum Deum,
ut sibi complaceam.

[33] CHARLES PÉGUY, The Mystery of the Charity of Saint Joan of Arc (1910).
[34] Isaiah 53:5, 10.
[35] Luke 13:34.
[36] John 12:32.
 S.P. II, 189: Liturgy of the Hours of French German countries, first half of 15th Cent.
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ELEVENTH STATION
Jesus promises his Kingdom to the good thief

V/. Adoramus te, Christe, et benedicimus tibi.

R/. Quia per sanctam crucem tuam redemisti mundum.

From the Gospel according to Luke. 23:39-43

One of the criminals who were hanged railed at him, saying, “Are you not the Christ? Save yourself
and us!” But the other rebuked him, saying, “Do you not fear God, since you are under the same
sentence of condemnation? And we indeed justly; for we are receiving the due reward of our deeds;
but this man has done nothing wrong.” And he said, “Jesus, remember me when you come into
your kingdom.” And he said to him, “Truly, I say to you, today you will be with me in Paradise.”

MEDITATION

The minutes pass, as the crucifed Jesus approaches his death; his life and his strength are slowly
ebbing away. And yet he still has the strength to make a final gesture of love to one of the two men
condemned to death who are beside him at that tragic moment, when the sun is still high in the
heavens. Between Christ and that man a brief dialogue takes place, consisting of two essential
phrases.
First, there is the plea of the criminal, whom tradition calls the “good thief”, who is converted at the
final hour of his life: “Jesus, remember me when you enter into your kingdom!” It is almost as if he
was reciting his personal version of the “Our Father” with its invocation “Thy Kingdom come!” But
he addresses it directly to Jesus, calling him by name, a name of extraordinary significance at that
moment: “The Lord saves”. Then, an imperative: “Remember me!” In the language of the Bible this
verb has a particular force which conveys much more than our colourless word “remember”. It is
word that breathes certainty and confidence, as if to say: “Take care of me, do not abandon me, be
like a friend who supports me and defends me!”.

***

Then there is the reply of Jesus, quick, almost a whisper: “Today you will be with me in Paradise.”
This word, “Paradise”, so rare in the Scriptures as to appear only two other times in the New
Testament[37], in its original meaning suggests a lush and fruitful garden. It is a fragrant image of
the Kingdom of light and peace that Jesus had proclaimed in his preaching and inaugurated with his
miracles and which would shortly appear in its glory at Easter. It is the goal of our toilsome journey
through history, it is fullness of life, it is the intimacy of God’s embrace. It is the final gift which
Christ makes to us, in the sacrifice of his death which opens up to the glory of the resurrection.

On that day of anguish and pain, those two crucified men said nothing else, yet the few words
gasped from their parched throats echo even today. They will continue to echo as a sign of hope and
salvation for those who have sinned, but have also come to believe and trust, even at life’s final
frontier.

All:

Pater noster, qui es in cælis:

sanctificetur nomen tuum;
adveniat regnum tuum;
fiat voluntas tua, sicut in cælo, et in terra.
Panem nostrum cotidianum da nobis hodie;
et dimitte nobis debita nostra,
sicut et nos dimittimus debitoribus nostris;
et ne nos inducas in tentationem;
sed libera nos a malo.

Sancta mater, istud agas,

Crucifixi fige plagas
cordi meo valide.

[37] Cf. 2 Corinthians 12:4; Revelation 2:7.

 S.P. II, 162: Liturgy of the Hours of French countries, second half of 15th Cent.
Ambrosian Library

TWELFTH STATION
The crucified Jesus, the Mother and the disciple

V/. Adoramus te, Christe, et benedicimus tibi.

R/. Quia per sanctam crucem tuam redemisti mundum.

From the Gospel according to John. 19:25-27

Standing by the cross of Jesus were his mother, and his mother's sister, Mary the wife of Clopas,
and Mary Magdalene. When Jesus saw his mother, and the disciple whom he loved standing near,
he said to his mother: "Woman, behold your son!" Then he said to the disciple: "Behold your
mother!". And from that hour the disciple took her to his own home.

MEDITATION

She had begun to distance herself from her Son since the day when, at twelve years old, he had told
her that he had another home and another mission to accomplish, in the name of his Father in
heaven. But now Mary faces the moment of complete separation. At that hour she felt the agony of
all mothers who, contrary to the very nature of things, see their children precede them in death. But
the Evangelist John wipes away every tear from her sorrowful face, silences every cry of lament
from her lips, and keeps Mary from flinging herself to the ground in despair.

Instead, there is an aura of silence broken by a voice that descends from the cross and from the lips
of her dying Son. It is much more than the usual testament: it is a revelation which marks a turning-
point in the life of his Mother. That supreme separation of death is not barren but unexpectedly
fruitful, like a mother giving birth. Just as Jesus himself had said a few hours earlier, on the final
evening of his earthly life: “When a woman is in travail she has sorrow, because her hour has come;
but when she is delivered of the child, she no longer remembers the anguish, for joy that a child is
born into the world”[38].

***

Mary goes back to being a mother: it is significant that in the few lines of the Gospel account this
word – mother – appears fully five times. Mary goes back to being a mother, and her children will
be those who are like “the beloved disciple”, that is, all those who take shelter under the mantle of
God’s saving grace and follow Jesus in faith and love.

From that moment on, Mary will no longer be alone. She will become the mother of the Church, an
immense assembly of every language, nation and people, who down the centuries will join her in
clinging to the cross of Christ, her firstborn Son. From that moment on, we too walk with her along
the path of faith, we stay with her in the house where the Spirit of Pentecost blows, we sit at the
table where the bread of the Eucharist is broken and we await the day when her Son will return to
bring us, like her, into the eternity of his glory.

All:

Pater noster, qui es in cælis:

sanctificetur nomen tuum;
adveniat regnum tuum;
fiat voluntas tua, sicut in cælo, et in terra.
Panem nostrum cotidianum da nobis hodie;
et dimitte nobis debita nostra,
sicut et nos dimittimus debitoribus nostris;
et ne nos inducas in tentationem;
sed libera nos a malo.

Fac me tecum pie flere,

Crucifixo condolere,
donec ego vixero.

[38] John 16:21.

 S.P. II, 162: Liturgy of the Hours of French countries, second half of 15th Cent.
Ambrosian Library

THIRTEENTH STATION
Jesus dies on the cross

V/. Adoramus te, Christe, et benedicimus tibi.

R/. Quia per sanctam crucem tuam redemisti mundum.

From the Gospel according to Luke. 23:44-47

It was now about the sixth hour, and there was darkness over the whole land until the ninth hour,
while the sun’s light failed; and the curtain of the temple was torn in two. Then Jesus, crying with a
loud voice, said, “Father, into your hands I commend my spirit!” And having said this, he breathed
his last. Now when the centurion saw what had taken place, he praised God, and said, “Certainly
this man was innocent!”.

MEDITATION

At the beginning of our journey, the veil of night had fallen upon Jerusalem; now it is the darkness
of an eclipse that spreads like a shroud over Golgotha. The “power of darkness”[39] seems to loom
over the land where God is dying. Yes, the Son of God, to be truly human and our brother, must also
drink from the chalice of death, that death which is really the mark of every descendent of Adam.
And so Christ “has been made like his brethren in every respect”[40]; he has become fully one of
us, standing at our side even in that final struggle between life and death. A struggle perhaps taking
place even now for a man or a woman in this city of Rome, and in countless other cities and towns
throughout the world.

This is no longer the God of the Greeks and Romans, impassible and remote, like an emperor
confined to the gilded skies of his Olympus. In the dying Christ, God is now revealed as
passionately in love with his creatures, even to the point of freely imprisoning himself within their
twilight of pain and death. The crucifix is thus a universal human sign of the solitude of death, and
of injustice and evil. But it is also a universal divine sign of hope for the fulfilment of the
expectations of every centurion, that is, of every restless and searching person.
 ***

Indeed, even high on the cross, dying on that gibbet, Jesus, as he breathes his last, does not cease to
be the Son of God. At that moment every human experience of suffering and death is embraced by
the divine. It is made radiant with eternity, a seed of eternal life is planted within it, a spark of
divine light bursts forth.

Death, while losing nothing of its tragedy, now shows an unexpected face: it has the same eyes as
the heavenly Father. That is why Jesus at that final hour utters a touching prayer: “Father, into your
hands I commend my spirit.” Let us make that plea our own, in the prayerful words of a poet:[41]
“Father, let your fingers also close my own eyes. / You who are a Father to me, turn to me like a
tender Mother, / at the bedside of her gently sleeping child. / Father, come to me and take me into
your arms.”

All:

Pater noster, qui es in cælis:

sanctificetur nomen tuum;
adveniat regnum tuum;
fiat voluntas tua, sicut in cælo, et in terra.
Panem nostrum cotidianum da nobis hodie;
et dimitte nobis debita nostra,
sicut et nos dimittimus debitoribus nostris;
et ne nos inducas in tentationem;
sed libera nos a malo.

Vidit suum dulcem Natum

morientem desolatum,
cum emisit spiritum.

[39] Luke 22:53.

[40] Hebrews 2:17.

[41] MARIE NOËL, Song and Hours (1930).

 S.P. 42: "Borromeo" Liturgy of the Hours miniated by Cristoforo de Predis, Cent. XV
Ambrosian Library

FOURTEENTH STATION
Jesus is laid in the tomb

V/. Adoramus te, Christe, et benedicimus tibi.

R/. Quia per sanctam crucem tuam redemisti mundum.

From the Gospel according to Luke 23:50-54

Now there was a man named Joseph from the Jewish town of Arimathea. He was a member of the
council, a good and righteous man, who had not consented to their purpose and deed, and he was
looking for the kingdom of God. This man went to Pilate and asked for the body of Jesus. Then he
took it down and wrapped it in a linen shroud, 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.

MEDITATION

Wrapped in the winding sheet, the “shroud”, the crucified, torn body of Jesus slips slowly from the
loving and gentle hands of Joseph of Arimathea into the tomb hewn from the rock. In the hours of
silence which follow, Christ will truly be like all men and women who enter into the dark womb of
death, the stiffening of the limbs, the end. And yet in that twilight of Good Friday something was
already in the air. The Evangelist Luke notes that “the Sabbath was beginning;” lamps were already
flickering in the windows of the homes of Jerusalem.
The vigil kept by the Jews in their homes becomes, as it were, a symbol of the hope of those
women, of that secret disciple of Jesus, Joseph of Arimathea, and of the other disciples. An
expectation that now fills with warmth the heart of every believer who stands before a tomb or feels
the cold touch of sickness or death. It is the expection of a new and different dawn, which in just a
few hours, once the sabbath has passed, will appear before our eyes, the eyes of Christ’s followers.

***

When that day breaks, we will be met on the street of the tombs by the angel who will say to us:
“Why do you seek the living among the dead? He is not here, but has risen”[42]! And as we return
home, the Risen One will draw near and walk with us, coming to stay with us and breaking bread
with us at table[43]. Then we too will pray in the faith-filled words of the magnificent Saint
Matthew Passion, set to music by one of mankind’s greatest musicians:[44]

“Though my heart is tearful because Jesus bids me farewell, yet his testament gives me joy. He
bequeaths to me a precious treasure, his flesh and his blood… I will offer you my heart; immerse
yourself therein, my Saviour! I will cast myself upon you! If the earth is too small for you, then you
alone shall be for me more than earth and heaven!”

All:

Pater noster, qui es in cælis:

sanctificetur nomen tuum;
adveniat regnum tuum;
fiat voluntas tua, sicut in cælo, et in terra.
Panem nostrum cotidianum da nobis hodie;
et dimitte nobis debita nostra,
sicut et nos dimittimus debitoribus nostris;
et ne nos inducas in tentationem;
sed libera nos a malo.

Quando corpus morietur,

fac ut animæ donetur
paradisi gloria.
Amen.

[42] Luke 24:5-6.

[43] Luke 24:13-32.

[44] JOHANN SEBASTIAN BACH, St Matthew Passion, BWV 244, Nos. 18-19.

The Holy Father addresses those present.

At the end of his address, the Holy Father imparts the Apostolic Blessing:

BLESSING

V/. Dominus vobiscum.

R/. Et cum spiritu tuo.

V/. Sit nomen Domini benedictum.

R/. Ex hoc nunc et usque in sæculum.

V/. Adiutorium nostrum in nomine Domini.

R/. Qui fecit cælum et terram.

V/. Benedicat vos omnipotens Deus,

Pater, et Filius, et Spiritus Sanctus.
R/. Amen.

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