"I know the way!" Reflections on walking the Via Dolorosa in Jerusalem

Yesterday I drove from Jerusalem, where I lay my head, to the place where the little Lord Jesus lays down His sweet head. (aka Manger Square in Bethlehem!)

And then, after picking up my boss (who is visiting from Chicago) I successfully drove us both directly to the Lutheran School in Beit Sahour.

No detours! No backtracking! And never any Google Maps in Palestine. 

Just Point A, Point B, Point C. A small miracle.

This may seem a small thing, but to me it felt like a victory! After nearly three years as a missionary in Jerusalem and the West Bank, I feel like I really live here.

I know the way.

Of course, the day before I wasn’t so sure.

As part of our Lenten focus on the Stations of the Cross, I had planned a community walk of the Via Dolorosa in Jerusalem. On Wednesday afternoon, a small group met at Redeemer Church and then walked together to the first station:

Jesus Is Condemned to Death:

"Pilate again said to them, "Then what shall I do with the man whom you call the King of the Jews?" And they cried out again, "Crucify him.":

…and then my phone rings. Latecomers are trying to find us along the way.

Once they find us, we continue on to Station 2: Jesus Takes Up the Cross.

"When they had mocked him, they stripped him of the purple cloak, and put his own clothes on him. And they led him out to crucify him"

...and I have to jump out of the way, as a car comes zipping past!

Station 3 is behind the spot where the soldiers stand with their weapons and riot gear. When did they add that protective bulletproof box? I wonder.

Station 4 (Jesus Meets His Mother) now has a beer garden in front of it. (Sister Sylvia told me there used to be a lingerie shop there as well.)

Station 5: "As they led him away, they seized one Simon of Cyrene, who was coming in from the country, and laid on him the Cross, to carry it behind Jesus."

We huddle near a trash can to read this scripture, as there is already a crowd gathered here. A street cat, unbothered by my presence, walks across my foot to get to the trash/treasure. I am remembering how one day, on my way to work, I saw a young Palestinian man being searched by police, arms and legs splayed out against the stone wall underneath the sign that says “Station V: Simon Helps Jesus Carry the Cross.”

Station 6: Tourists Get in My Way.

Station 7: Small Boy Fires Toy Gun in My Direction.

Station 8: The One in Front of the Internet Café.

Station 9: Just past “Mike’s Place” Restaurant.

By the time we are entering the Church of the Holy Sepulcher, I am thinking, “What am I doing? This was a stupid idea. This doesn’t feel spiritual at all! I don’t know how to pray in this chaos! These people are following me, and I don’t even know the way.”

Being a pastor often feels like this. Nearly 8 years after ordination and I still want to stand in the pulpit and say:

“I don’t know! I don’t know how to love my enemy. I don’t know how to forgive some things. I don’t know how to persevere in faith and trust and hope in the midst of cancer, or of crippling anxiety, or of heinous crimes in Syria, or of a 50-year military occupation.

I don’t really know the Way.”

But Mr. Nusseibeh, the Muslim man who keeps the keys to the door of the Holy Sepulcher, greets me with a kiss. “Wen inti??” he asks. “Where have you been?” and our group ascends the steep staircase to Golgotha, where we read the next few Stations:

Jesus is Stripped of His Garments.
Jesus is Nailed to the Cross.

And Station 12: "Then Jesus, crying with a loud voice, said: "Father, into your hands I commend my spirit." And having said this, he breathed his last."

Two thousand years later, and we are still learning the Way. So many years, so many books, so many saints to learn from, so many songs sung, so many prayers prayed, so much theology systematized, and still we sometimes just need to walk in the footsteps of Jesus.

There’s no Google Map for Palestine or for discipleship! 

There’s just the walking, and the walking, and the walking:

In the chaos of the streets.
In the confusion of human relationships.
In times of doubt.
In times of war.
In every time, and in every place, the Way of Jesus is the Way of love and mercy. It is the Way of life, together. It is the Way of love, to the end.

Some days, I think I can get from Point A to Point B all by myself! 

Some days, this Way truly feels like the Via Dolorosa, the Way of Sorrows.

Most days, I'm just lost.

“We adore you, O Christ, and we bless you, for by your Holy Cross You have redeemed the world.”