People can respond bravely to terrible situations. It takes a supreme order of bravery to hold fast when you have time and opportunity to walk away from danger, never mind walking directly towards it…
Each step a decision: forward or back?
What motivation to keep You on track?
Each step approaching that ghastly end;
His will or Your will – who would bend?
You suspected full well the coming cost:
Blasphemy! The establishment’s riposte.
Jerusalem, Your city, awaiting Your entry;
But grim forces, building their cruel tree.
To suffer and die for such a motley crew:
A fractious humanity ganging up on You.
Yet to show us how better we can be,
You freely walked towards Your destiny.
What manner of bravery is this quest?
The bravest would baulk at such a test!
This walk is beyond all comprehension;
Who would blame You for it’s suspension?
Every step, the opportunity to… delay,
To show the disciples quite another way.
To quietly halt – only You knew the plan;
You alone understood what You began.
The scripture prophesies concerning You:
Make or break to see them coming true.
A harsh noose around Your neck withal;
Dead man walking – to bring life to all.
A pure heart beats with fullest feeling.
You saw beyond the pain to our healing.
Purest love put one foot before another,
That sinful men might own You brother.
Time and again You could have turned aside,
Arguing to leave us lost in our sinful pride.
Yet You loved us, loved us just as we are;
Nothing would stop You being our Saviour.
The road to Jerusalem was an awful passage;
Personal example the core of Your message.
Filial resignation couldn’t lessen that horror;
No divine sedative to tide You till Easter.
The road to Jerusalem began Your passion;
Hosannas awaiting, scant compensation.
Your close friends were willing but unaware;
All save Your mother, unknowing what’s there.
Crushing expectation, laced with loneliness,
A cross You embraced in all it’s ugliness.
No angels to minister to You at Calvary,
And no chance of rescue by the cavalry.
Did that nightmare last a few days then,
Or do You suffer again and again and again?
Was that road You trod so very long ago,
To last as long as humanity’s sin and woe?
Our Holy Mass is a sanctified celebration,
Remaking real Your gut-wrenching passion.
May our heartfelt love and our devotion,
Dress Your wounds with some consolation.
No regrets? You’d do it again? Precisely,
The road to Jerusalem is for You an eternity.
In extreme and constant bravery, my hero!
Walked for me and mankind from long ago.