The Twelfth Station: Jesus Dies on the Cross

I have been blessed with the incredible gift of praying the Stations of the Cross several times during Lent this year. Meditating upon our Lord’s passion always moves me deeply. I feel real terror at the terrible price He paid to atone for my sins, for the truth of the matter is that I put him on that cross.

Every flash of pride is a hateful scream, “Crucify him, crucify him!”
Every wrathful act is a lash upon his back, a thorn driven deeper into his scalp, a nail hammered into his weeping flesh.
Every lustful thought is a wicked leer at the female disciples who bemoan his fate on the road to Calvary.
Every envious glance is a hankering for Judas’s blood-stained golden coins.
Every ticking second of sloth is an inhuman indifference to Christ’s howls of pain and torment upon the cross.
Every avaricious design is a diabolical game of dice for his tunic and a mockery of his nakedness.
Every gluttonous indulgence is a sponge soaked in my own bitter gall.

The Stations of the Cross remind me of my complete dependence on the grace of Christ. It is only Christ who can redeem the world. And it is for this reason that I mournfully pray the following words with heartfelt gratitude on this Good Friday:

We adore you, O Christ, and we bless you.
Because by your holy cross you have redeemed the world.