These women had followed Jesus
when he was in Galilee...
Near the cross of Jesus
there stood his mother.
--Mark 15. 40; John 19.25
This may just be the most heart-rending of all the Stations. Surrounded by curses, spittle rocks and stones and jeers—Jesus sees his mother in the crowd. There are other women there but we will talk about them later on this journey. But first he sees his mother. He must see her tears. He must see in her face her anguish. And standing there amid all that hate she is one with her first-born in solidarity. Who knows? I think the memory of that face would follow him all the way to Calvary.
And so I hope that all those mothers in Newtown can stop at this Station.
I hope the mother of the mother that shooter in Newtown can stop at this Station.
I hope the mother of majorette Hadiya Pendleton in Chicago can stop at this Station.
I hope Trevon Martin’s mother in Florida can stop at this Station.
I hope the mother of Pakistani schoolgirl Malala Yousufizia can stop at this Station.
I hope that all those other mothers around the world whose tears and aches seem almost unbearable can draw strength at this Station.
For Jesus carries the heavy burden of this cross down whatever lane or project or door or apartment or mansion or hut in Africa there may be. For this is their Station.
He cannot stop the suffering in so many of these terrible places. But that Savior who takes away the sins of the world also brings mercy to all in need. I do not understand it. But somehow this is enough.
(This series of the Stations were done by the African artist, Bruce, Onobrakpeya.)