Way of the Cross

We often use the language of path or journey to describe the shape of our spiritual life, and we understand ‘walking with Jesus’ to mean living our lives in accordance with his. Walking with Jesus is a metaphor, and yet there is a sense in which walking is also not a metaphor – we must quite literally take steps toward God sometimes. Nowhere did this concept become clearer for me than on a particular walk in January when I joined my fellow pilgrims on the Via Dolorosa in Jerusalem’s Old City. This walk is commonly called “The Stations of the Cross,” but those who have prayed the Stations know that experience of it can be both literally and metaphorically the Walk of the Cross.

Our walk began at St. George’s College at 6:00AM, early enough that the city was still dark and quiet. We carried with us an eight-foot-tall wooden cross as we silently made our way to Station I where Jesus is judged. (For those who may be curious, the Old City has all fourteen stations marked on along the Via Dolorosa leading to the Church of the Holy Sepulcher, which is the traditional site of Jesus’ death and resurrection). Our group walked from one station to the next, pausing at each one to read Scripture and to pray.

Growing Self-Awareness

As we walked, the sun began to peak over the outer wall of the Old City, vendors began to unlock their shops, and residents and tourists alike began to walk the narrow cobblestone streets. I noticed that my self-awareness (and perhaps my self-consciousness) grew as the commotion about us grew. Even in a city where public displays of religion are so common that they are basically expected, I was seeing just how public our Walk of the Cross had become. When it was my turn to carry the big wooden cross to the next station, I was aware of the gaze of every passerby along the way. I was aware of the cross’ weight in my hands. I was aware of how slow my pace was, how awkward my grip on it felt, and how deafening the silence was in between stations.

Gratitude for the Opportunity

My self-consciousness on the Via Dolorosa in Jerusalem was quickly matched by my gratitude for the opportunity to express my faith in this profoundly visible way. I wear a cross sometimes, I tell people I am in seminary, and I read my Bible in coffee shops on occasion, but walking down a busy market street carrying a cross that is taller than I am brought a whole new level to my public faith-sharing. Those who have left an Ash Wednesday service to go to the grocery store may know what I mean here. Such experiences are rare gifts – they can bring discomfort at first, but they invite us to encounter God through our physical bodies in visible and unavoidable ways.

Closer to God

This Holy Week we will gaze upon and venerate the cross and we will remember Jesus’ death. I doubt any of us will be carrying a big wooden cross down the street during Holy Week, but I know that our walk with Jesus these past 40 days has (literally) brought us closer to God. May God continue to bless and surprise us as our Lenten journey comes to an end this week, and may our steps bring us ever closer to our risen Lord!

Dorota Pruski