Stations of the Cross While Walking Home From Work on Good Friday Morning
A reflection on Good Friday, contrition, the death of Christ, the arrogance and sins of the church, the current hope of lasting reform, and for a church and faith stronger in future through being humble and honest, not a political powerhouse.
Cold and calm, Good Friday morning
Walking home from work, was it like this
When carrying the cross he fell three times
His apostles fled, them did he miss?
The wind is still, trees of Terryland Forest not swaying
As I ponder – the morning has taken the fleeing dark –
The whips whizzed down again and again
Leaving in the Holy Flesh the deepest mark
I see the crosses at Bohermore:
He had walked the bog road, was nailed down
Whipped and scourged, as king of the Jews mocked
Thorns woven round his head as a crown
I walk past Plunketts Church, another martyr
Was it so the church could deny
The wrong they done, as if to God himself
It was not for that that Christ did die.
I see the cranes above Renmore
The soldiers drew lots for his clothes
His body limp, to a tomb to be taken
The soldiers were the police of their day I suppose.
Forgive them, for they know not what they do
He commanded before his spirit he commended
I cant forgive those who did know what they done
Can only pray that such has now ended.
I can only wish for a humbler church
Having great faith in Francis the current Pope
Like John XXIII, but after his time
Will the hardliners return? That they don’t we can only hope
To no Church I went this Good Friday morning
Not being a great man for prayer
Yet as I walked home from my work
I did the stations as I wandered there.
