The Fourth Station; Jesus meets his Mother, by Sharon

Mary watches her son being dragged toward certain death.  She is helpless to save him.

As a nurse, I find it difficult to watch people come in to the ER and with all my training and experience I find myself helpless to do anything to save  them.  The most difficult scene which I see replayed over and over in the ER is when a child or infant come in and there is nothing their mother’s can do to save them.   I have seen children with tumors on the brain, mangled limbs from automobile accidents, teens overdosed on drugs, and babies with genetic blood disorders.   Pre-planning the funeral for a baby is not the way it is supposed to be.

What was Mary thinking when she saw her son’s battered and bruised body.  When their eyes met and they saw each other through the blood, the sweat, and the tears.   As heart wrenching as this scene is time and again, I am often touched by the scene of mother and child's eyes meeting, if just for a moment, there is a deep affection held in that sacred stare.

I pray that I always have the courage not to look away but to look toward the light and hold in our hearts the look of love.

Jesus, you feel so alone with all those people yelling and screaming at you. You don’t like the words they are saying about you, and you look for a friendly face in the crowd. You see your mother. She can’t make the hurting stop, but it helps to see that she is on your side, that she is suffering with you. She does understand and care.  Amen.

Ma Doge, Brandy

Doin' what she does.  Shepherd/Collie Mix. 

Great Flats Nature Trail

Rotterdam Flats, Schenectady, NY

Lake Tear In The Clouds, A Poem

Exodus 17:6
Behold, I will stand before you there on the rock at Horeb, and you shall strike the rock, and water shall come out of it, and the people will drink.” And Moses did so, in the sight of the elders of Israel.

Anybody who hikes, especially in the Adirondack State Park of upstate NY, can attest to the fact that water indeed can flow from rocks.  It is very common up in the High Peaks. 

Water seeping out of rock formed a lake called "Lake Tear In The Clouds," which has been traced to be the birthplace of the mighty Hudson River ("Co-ha-ta-te-a," - River from Beyond the Peaks, as interpreted by the Mohawk Tribe).  The lake rests just below the summit of Mount Marcy (Tahawas: Cloud Splitter) at 4,293 feet.  Its primary outflow is Feldspar Brook which then becomes Opalescent Stream.  This is the site where where Teddy Roosevelt learned that McKinley had been shot.  From the lake, it is about a ten hour hike to get back down to the town of Newcomb where Roosevelt then took a stage to Buffalo to be sworn in as President.

Birthplace of the Hudson

A mossy cushion on the mountain
dripping in wetness, mountain blood
exists the birthplace of a fountain
from deep dark springs destined to run

Like glossy birds o’er rocks they ripple
gift of mountain purity
traversing over feldspar pebbles
universal unity

The trickle pauses for a rest
where often mist enshrouds
beneath Mount Marcy’s edifice
lies Lake Tear in the Clouds

The lake at times had fallen away
by summer drought and noontime sun
the painted trunks and bank display
what springtime thaw had long since done

Nature takes her liberty
this little place, to occupy
unseen to human apathy
a dotted fleet of water flies

The outlet played its melodies
like tingling nerves it ran downhill
flowed in braided songful peace
shaping at its wild will

And fainting not to thirsty suns
the throbbing water darts with ease
to preordained symposium
to kneel at the foot of its emperor the sea

On its journey purely chastened
falling on, its swiftness doubles
plunging numerous black basins
glittering bright with silver bubbles

This gentle stream now mighty brook
leaps in white astonishment
interposing streams partook
a streaking shower opalescent

In fierce heedless chafing water
driftwood striped of bark and branch
terrific cataracts of slaughter
plunge in rabid avalanche

A crag, a perfect net that strangles
prostrate trees now lying entombed
the foaming steeps and channeled angles
catapults Opalescent Flume

-Malcolm Kogut.

The Third Station; Jesus falls the first time

The cross is heavy and the road is long, Jesus falls to the ground and the soldiers drag him to his feet again.  The world is filled with people who have fallen and are trying desperately to get up.  People released from prison, the persecuted, a student struggling in school or with peer pressure, a breadwinner losing a job, or someone being told they have cancer.

While driving in downtown Amsterdam, I stopped at a light and noticed a homeless man with a long scar across his face, like a map to a life of pain and strife.  He was picking through the trash scattered along the road looking for discarded cans and bottles.  This down and out man depended upon the waste and squander of other people in order to survive.  I can’t imagine what happened to this man which brought him to such low estate.

It doesn’t take long for Jesus to fall from the weight of the cross.  When he falls the first time, can we imagine his head hitting the pavement or the crown of thorns pushing down and embedding into his head or the welts beginning to rise on the body of Christ?  Are we like spectators at an accident, looking for gore and missing the meaning and the call?

When we fall to the ground under the weight of our crosses, the temptation is to stay down low.  When someone else falls, the temptations is to stare, mock, look the other way, not get involved, or to think that it’s not any of our business.  

When we take the time to notice that we are all on our knees in some way or another, we might see some of the broken pieces of our lives scattered on the ground and how brightly they can shine in the eyes of another when their courage swells.  Dorothy Day once kissed the countenance of a cancerous faced woman.  She said, "When we kiss the face of someone who has fallen, we kiss the face of Christ."    Do we see the face of Christ revealed in every person standing by our side?

Jesus, the cross you have been carrying is very heavy. You are becoming weak and almost ready to faint, and you fall down. Nobody seems to want to help you.  Sometimes we put things off. Sometimes we give up too easily, and don’t do our work or give other people a chance.  Help us to do our work as well as we can and to finish what we have started. When we fall, help us get up again and keep going.

Amazing Grace

The Second Station: Jesus Takes Up His Cross, by Nat.

A heavy cross is thrust into Jesus’ arms and he is ordered to carry it.  Jesus accepts it.  We are burdened by so many crosses in life.  Crosses of fear, loneliness, hunger, poverty, persecution, relationships.  We scarcely notice people who are also carrying crosses: students struggling in school, a grandmother who is nearing the end of life, people who are afraid or lonely, someone in a relationship of unrequited love, the loss of job, homelessness, hunger, a diagnosis of cancer.  Sometimes we feel like we’re not appreciated. Sometimes we feel as if we accept more responsibility than we need to. We can feel sorry for ourselves, even though the crosses others carry are much larger than our own. In our self-pity, we may not reach out to help.

While serving my country in the army during World War Two, my platoon was ambushed by enemy fire.  A shell went off nearby and shrapnel flew everywhere.  Several pieces hit me and I was overcome with pain as the searing metal fragments sliced into the bone and muscle of my foot and ankle.  As enemy fire flashed around us, I knew that we had to retreat to a more safe location.  Despite the pain, I rose to my knees and noticed that the other men were severely injured.  Just as Jesus took up his cross, I too had to do what was required of me.  Practically paralyzed with pain, one by one, on my backside I dragged my brothers to safety, lifting each of them over a stone wall, away from enemy fire, to life.

As the macabre crucifixion scene plays out, Jesus labors to be upright and impervious to the jeers of some in the crowd.  Yet, there is an oasis within, a place where psalms still flourish.  Just as Jesus lumbered forward, I too did what was the right thing to do, choosing life with each labored pull and step. 

Almighty God, whose beloved Son willingly endured the agony and shame of the cross for our redemption: Give us courage to take up our cross and follow him; who lives and reigns for ever and ever. Amen.

*Nat received a Silver Star, Bronze Star and Purple Heart for his heroism on that day.