land of milk and hummus
Issue 4 /// May 2017
The Way of the Cross
At sunrise on Good Friday, the Jerusalem/West Bank volunteers and I gathered in Jerusalem to commemorate Jesus’ crucifixion by tracing his steps through Jerusalem’s Old City along a path that is known as the Via Dolorosa or “The Way of the Cross.”
Christians from around the world travel to Jerusalem to process along the Via Dolorosa on Good Friday, commemorating the events of that day 2,000 years ago when Jesus was killed and laid in the tomb. Even in the early hours of the morning, the streets were crowded as we gathered to process through the 14 stations of the Way of the Cross with members of the Lutheran Church of the Redeemer’s English and Arabic-speaking congregations.
The third station on the Via Dolorosa marks where Jesus fell for the first time. The spot, designated by a small stone plaque, is the first of three that note places Jesus collapsed along the way under the weight of his cross. As we processed past the marker for station three, I too tried not to fall on the slippery cobblestones overcrowded with people. On those streets filled with masses of humanity, I was reminded of Jesus’ own.
Plaques and the prayerful mark the places that Jesus fell along the Via Dolorosa. Few of us have had our own struggles commemorated in quite the same way. It may seem strange to memorialize these places where the human weakness of God’s son incarnate was most obvious, but as we shuffled along to the next place Jesus would fall, it was obvious to me that each plaque that marks where Jesus fell, also marks a place where he rose again. Even on the day of his death, Jesus was already showing us that we too can rise and rise repeatedly.
Good Friday came as I near the end of my year in the Holy Land. My time here has been filled with joys and places where I too have struggled and stumbled, as I have tried to navigate new relationships, new experiences, new realities. And, like Jesus had Simon of Cyrene to help him carry his cross, I have found help and assistance in the people I have met along the way — those who have welcomed me into their homes and lives and helped me regain my footing when my feet have seemed to slip from under me. In the middle of a year of repeated falling and rising, it was nice to be reminded that no one, not even the Son of God, goes through life without occasionally succumbing to its weight.
Like Jesus, we, too, fall in our lives, and fall, and fall. We stagger under the weight of the crosses we’ve been asked to shoulder. Few have plaques to commemorate the location. In a world so dense with suffering, much of it necessarily happens with little recognition. But with or without plaques to mark the spot, we all struggle and fall. Luckily, we can know we fall in good company.
Ask Carrie:
Where have you gone lately?
For our mid-year retreat, the JWB volunteers headed to Jordan to visit the Lutheran Church in Amman. There, we joined the local congregation for evening services and spent some time talking with the local pastor about what their church is like. We also took some time to see some of the many different sites Jordan has to offer, including the Wadi Rum (above) and Petra. For more pictures from this trip, click here.
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Have any visitors lately?
I was exceptionally blessed to be able to spend the Easter holiday with my dad, Dale, in the Holy Land (retirement has its perks). It was great to show him the places that have become important to me during this year, and to introduce him to the people who have made my time here so unbelievably rich and full of life. Above, Dale and I after celebrating Easter Sunday with the Lutheran congregation in Ramallah.
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// A huge thank you to my colleagues who took many of the photos featured in this newsletter //