Jesus, what can I do for you?

I was particularly moved by this reading on The Twenty-Seventh Day of Lent last Friday.

May it similarly affect you.

You stumble. A soldier yells at you. I am crying. I can’t watch. I can’t watch. People keep blocking my vision. Ah, God! The sun has risen halfway to heaven, dead-white, round, hot. There are some black clouds in the west. They’re coming here to Jerusalem. I don’t even feel the wind, but it’s blowing and they are coming.

Oh, how can I not watch? How can I not be with you, Lord?

I’ve pushed myself right into the soldiers’ path. I can be bold, because I love you. I make them notice me by standing in the way, and then I beg them, “Let me carry his cross. He can’t! Let me.”

One fool finds this amusing. “You’re a woman,” he tells me.

But another finds it practical and claps the closest pilgrim on the shoulder and commands him to take your cross and follow them out of the city. Oh, Jesus, but then I am left with nothing to do! Does that stranger understand the honor? You glance at him—I see this, my hand on my mouth—you glance at him when he lifts the beam from your arms. How dearly I long for such a glance! What can I do for you? Please look at me! Jesus, Jesus, what can I do for you now?

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       Follow.

~ RELIVING THE PASSION
                                                                                                             Walter Wangerin, Jr.

Can I? Will I?

Can you? Will you?

Follow.

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