The Eighth Station: Jesus Consoles the Women of Jerusalem
But Jesus, turning to them, said, “Daughters of Jerusalem, do not weep for Me, but for yourselves and for your children For behold, the days are coming when they will say, “Blessed are the barren, and the wombs that never bore. And the breasts that never nursed!” (Luke 23:28-29)
Some women have gathered toward the end of the way. They had heard what had happened and needed to see for themselves. As they see Jesus for the first time, He is not the man they remember. His matted hair is caked with blood. His eyes are all but swollen shut. His lips are pale and cracked. He struggles with each step. They realize that this was the man Who fed their families the loaves and fish and Who spoke so confidently of God’s kingdom. The contrast is overwhelming. When they see Him on the brink of death, they burst into tears. Despite His exhaustion and suffering, He stops to offer them words of reassurance and conviction.
Lord, when I think about these women, I often wonder what group I would have fallen into along the road to Calvary. Would I have been one of your former followers who hid in fear? Would I have been one of the self-righteous jeerers? Would I have been as brave in offering You comfort like Veronica? Or would I have been one of these women, unable to contain my compassion, weeping but unable to do anything to help? Jesus, you have compassion on these women, You comfort them. They see that You are not afraid and that You are at peace with Your sentence, despite your thoroughly abused countenance. More important, You encourage them to not stop at tears of pity. You remind them to consider that Your innocent blood is being shed for their sakes. You help them to recognize—with your characteristic gentleness—that they—that I—am the guilty ones.
Points to consider:
The conviction of my guilt should have profound repercussions on how I live every day. Do I treat my family both with mercy and with justice?
Am I a self-righteous, authoritarian dictator in my house, or do I see my husband and children as fellow sinners in need of compassion and truth, just like I am?
When I am moved by the pain and suffering of others, do I stop at my emotional reaction, or do I follow through with real help through my prayers and sacrifices?
Can you expect to go to heaven for nothing? Did not our Savior track the whole way to it with his tears and blood? And yet you stop at every little pain. Saint Elizabeth Ann Seton, mother