|
|
The Way of the Cross In recent days I have been struck by the number of times I have heard people refer to ‘taking something up’ rather than ‘giving something up’ for Lent (even on The Archers I think!) If we take this further, perhaps it enables us to think of the journey through Lent and Holy Week and Easter, as one that helps us to live more fully, rather than in a half-hearted way – to be present to the heights and depths of living in a way that enriches, rather than diminishes us. The events recalled by the writers of the gospels, that led to Jesus being arrested and crucified, portray for us a deeply human picture of the one who would be proclaimed Christ. Once again, as we journey through this season of Lent, we call to mind this profoundly human figure, experiencing betrayal, abandonment and agonising physical suffering, as a result of being completely the person whom he is called to be. None of us can literally walk in the shoes of this ‘man of sorrows’, and yet in some small way when we walk with him as our companion, we catch some intimation of his suffering resonating with ours, of our pain and sadness being absorbed in his; of the stark cruelty and devastating grief that we witness / experience / perpetrate in our world, being held and embraced by the One who can bear it. And because it is borne, it is somehow transformed. If we sometimes, as human beings, and as level-headed Christians, become stuck in one emotional register, the season of Lent and the events of Holy Week and Easter carry us out of our comfort zone into challenging places. To use a musical analogy, they are a reminder to us of all the notes on the piano, not just the safety of ‘middle C’. Throughout the history of the Church, choral music has been one of the most powerful means of expressing the depth of human emotion surrounding the sacred stories of our faith. We might think of Bach’s St Matthew Passion and Handel’s Messiah, or a great Requiem mass. Music and poetry together have a unique ability to express the deep yearning of faith for a fullness of life both here and now, and in a life beyond this one. The way of the Cross cannot simply be seen as a path of self-denial. It is a path of transformation. To walk the way of the Cross is to be more fully present to life: it is also the way of love.
Liz Smith
| ||||||||||||||||