STATION 1

JESUS IS CONDEMNED


In somber mind amidst the feasts, with attitude they come to me.
Now Priests, Elders, Pharisees a circled crowd grown vast I see.
Release of one who has done wrong becomes my own ordeal,
Before me most want to be heard, the mass shouts morbid appeal.

Questioned man in my command, his innocence my true belief,
Another one who suffers others, steals, cheats, is truly thief.
Upon my hands their freedom rests, appeasing those here now their cost.
   Screams outside for thief’s parole weakens me, courage fades, then lost.

Let me flog him and be done with the anger outside my door.
Incited voices cry for death, crucifixion they implore.
Declaration from my wife to let this Jesus please be heard.
 From Judea He has come so I turn for King Herod’s word.

King Herod laughs and mocks the man, dresses up and sends Him back.
Once more my turn for immunity, yet bravery I lack.
To crowd I cry for Jesus’ sake, He is free of harmful charge.
Barabbas they bellow for, the angry crowd has grown so large.

Curses, threats aimed at me, to Caesar I am no longer friend. 
There is no out but to deny I am guilty for this end.
Amazement fills my deepest thoughts, as Jesus will to me not speak.
I rush outside; I plead His case, wrested from my hand, too weak.

Water on my hands to now wash away my dreadful error.
I set him on the Judge’s Bench to ease my growing terror.
I give in to their own ways to have him scourged for death.
Then with my hands now soft, cleaned, dry, I exhale my held in breath.

Jesus is condemned, doomed by the Priests, Elders, Pharisees.
Roman soldiers take Jesus away; there are not any pleas.
Barabbas is then released, the crowd roars cheers vehemently.
Turned away from this day’s faults I go so not to have to see.

 Governors must do their work with careful tact for what is best
For all the ones under his command. And now I go to rest.
The afternoon has come to bear the pain of a deathly hour.
Oh I am feared but may not help if I am to have power.