STATION 3

JESUS FALLS THE FIRST TIME


An Elder walked along a stone path behind Jesus set to die.
He took in guards, the scourged burns on Jesus, the brilliance of the sky.
He walked best with cane, his robes real loose, for sticky was the day.
With piercing eyes still in good use, he thought to watch, to now stay.

Down the path, no grunts of wrath, the bloodied man pulled cross along,
When lagging on, a whip that stung, He kept on, weary but strong.
The Elder approved of man’s abuse, Jesus had abused tradition.
If custom died to nothing what would happen to his life’s station?

The Elder cheered the weakening, he nodded his approval
Perhaps this man would never make it to the Place of the Skull.
The Elder glanced at some youth that raced along within his reach,
He decided this was a good experience he could teach.

As Jesus stumbled forth a guard kicked the cross and Jesus fell.
The Elder waited to see Jesus move, so bruised it was hard to tell.
Jesus spat out dirt, coughed up blood, tried to rise up, endure.
The Elder laughed for this road would never lead him to a cure.

Jesus with his face in dirt, hands no use, breathed and gasped for air.
His eyes swollen, hard to see, he searched for any friend there.
The Elder thought, ‘There’s no one here to help you face your own fate.’
But Jesus crawled His way upright; to His God He still had a date.

‘This man disgraced the laws, customs, inciting others to aid.
Jesus must be stopped from changing ways,’ the Elder thought, afraid.
As Jesus stood the Elder pulled on his beard and prayed for the death
Of this Jesus who preached different ways with every breath.

The Elder followed dusty road as procession went forward,
He stopped every few moments to rest, to recall the word
Of God in his mind, the commandments, all from the book.
Slowly Jesus moved along, The Elder did not want to look.

Decision gripped upon his chest, the Elder changed his mind.
Back to temple square, away from man to his own priestly kind.
The Elder stood but cane was gone, he looked for it by his side.
Laughing on the wall, were two kids the cane they tried.


The Elder roared annoyed at kids who had his cane in hand.
Turned away they didn’t hear, now the Elder could not stand.
He watched as Jesus made His way up the path for man he cried.
The Elder’s turn for tears, helpless, he tried to walk but legs denied.

He heaved a sigh then turned to look as Jesus crept along.
This journey was too slow for him, this Jesus much too strong.
The Elder wished for temple to pray in his own peace,
Without the thought that some miracle would Jesus find release.

The Elder sat, his body useless to walking back to temple’s square.
He moaned, and groaned at how life could be so unfair.
He scanned the backs of guards with whips that slapped them so very swift.
If only one would stop their fuss and come to give him a lift.

But no one came for the old Elder as he wished back in town.
He looked ahead at Jesus still getting up when He fell down.
‘Irony has come to me,’ spat out the Elder as he sat.
‘Jesus walks and I am stuck, what’s the meaning of that?’

The Elder watched as Jesus climbed up to the top of the hill.
The Elder’s legs were cramped and wouldn’t do his will.
The Elder closed his eyes and looked for kids who had his cane.
But there was none all was up ahead.  No one knew his pain.

Tired from his pain the Elder leaned against the wall of stone.
He closed his eyes, his breath slowed; he tried to feel not so alone.
Each breath was calming, he felt better, stronger, all right.
Slowly with fear he opened his eyes, he saw relief in sight.

For here there came a woman with child holding his cane in hand.
She marched him to the Elder made him help the Elder stand.
He prayed to God, thanked His mercy, He stretched his legs so tired.
He looked up hill, waited still for that Jesus to be expired.

The Elder went back on the path to head to temple for prayer.
As he walked a brief thought hit him, what if he was in error?
What if this Jesus was really special, God’s beacon of light?
What if that Jesus was really a healer come from God’s great sight?

The Elder shivered in the heat, a cold chill pierced through his skin.
At the Place of the Skull, Jesus was there dying for everyone’s sin.
‘But who could  possibly stop the death of the man up on hill?
‘Perhaps’, thought the Elder with regret, ‘Perhaps this is God’s will.’