The above photo is of the Tenth Station of the Cross at St. Louis Bertrand, a Dominican parish in Louisville. The Stations of the Cross are a powerful meditative experience, and as such you could choose any of them to focus on as an example of the deep suffering and love of our savior. Lately, I have been drawn to thinking about this station in particular a symbol of the great humility our Lord had to exhibit in going to the cross. As horrible as the pain of crucifixion might be, we should not forget that it was coupled with tortures designed also to strip away a sense of dignity that might make the victim's experience seem more inspirational. A man who is brave can be inspirational. It is hard to be brave when you have nothing between you and the eyes of your accusers. What do we see when we look on the body of Jesus on the cross of salvation? If we see with the eyes of the world, we are relieved to ignore him and turn away, for there is nothing there that we want. If we see with the eyes of faith, we are called to go to our own Calvary and do exactly the same for the greater glory of God, for this is the entire meaning of life.
I have recently listened to an audio recording of a man named Jeremiah Denton who recounted the story of his time as an American prisoner of war in Vietnam. In his story, he shared how much he was able to endure as the ranking officer among the prisoners, always remembering that they were looking to him for leadership. Eventually, his Vietnamese captors managed to put him in a situation where he knew he could no longer endure the pain even for the sake of his comrades. Although he had carried his faith with him throughout the experience, it was only at this point that Denton truly cried out to God as his last resort. In answer to his prayer, the pain went away, he lit up with joy in the midst of his suffering, and some of his captors even refused to do anything more to him because they knew he could not be broken. Jeremiah Denton had everything stripped away, just as our Lord did right before he was lifted up on the cross. Only after this stripping away was the power of God to be seen in its full force.
In our own lives, we must often endure humiliations that seem to have nothing to do with the experience of Christ. We are seldom called to risk death and torture in a literal sense. Perhaps this fact is why it is so very hard to be a Christian in this day and age and in this society. Our crosses are much more subtle. For myself, I desire to excel at what I do in my professional life, to have my contributions acknowledged by others, and to have others listen to my wisdom and tell me how smart I am. Even though all of these good things have happened to me in greater or lesser measure from time to time, it is those moments when I feel isolated and unappreciated that I cling to so much in my thoughts. I cling to my dignity in the eyes of others as if it were a garment without which I would be naked. I fear that if I do not have these things, my life will become unendurable. On the contrary, the only unendurable thing for a human being is to lose God. The purpose of humility is to allow us to accept the opportunities life presents us with to suffer like Christ did. We all must go through a revolution in our thinking so that we see moments of humiliation as the very means by which we will become the people we were made to be.
As we continue to celebrate this time of sorrow and joy, may the death of our savior remind us again of how much we are loved. May we realize that, as our defenses are stripped away, we have less and less between us and the loving gaze of the Father. May we find inspiration to carry on with our personal struggles, realizing through the juxtaposition of the crucifixion and death of Jesus Christ that they are so very small, and yet allow us the dignity to be there beside him as sons and daughters of God.
