As a Deacon, my heart is often pulled between two distinct poles: the Altar and the Streets. During Lent, we often find ourselves in the hushed, candlelit sanctuary, moving from one wooden plaque to the next as we pray the Stations of the Cross. It is a beautiful, ancient devotion. But if we look closely, the Via Dolorosa—the Way of Sorrows—did not end two thousand years ago. It is being walked every single day in our own neighborhoods, on our street corners, and in our local hospitals.
The Fifth Station: Simon of Cyrene in the 21st Century
Consider the moment Simon of Cyrene was pressed into service to help Jesus carry his cross. Simon didn't volunteer; he was a bystander caught in the middle of someone else’s tragedy.
In our modern context, who is Simon? He is the social worker who carries the secondary trauma of a broken foster care system. He is the daughter who has spent the last five years changing the linens for a parent with Alzheimer’s. He is the stranger who stops to help a person whose car has broken down in the rain. When we look at the "Stations of the Street," we realize that "carrying the cross" is rarely a grand, cinematic gesture. It is the quiet, often begrudging work of helping someone else bear a weight they cannot carry alone.
The Modern-Day Veronicas
Then there is Veronica, who stepped out of the crowd to wipe the bloody, dusty face of Jesus. She couldn't stop the crucifixion. She couldn't change the law. All she could do was offer a moment of human dignity in the midst of state-sponsored humiliation.
Today, the Veronicas are those who sit with the dying in hospices so they don't pass away alone. They are the volunteers at the soup kitchen who make eye contact and learn the names of the "unhoused," restoring the dignity that society tries to strip away. To "wipe the face of Christ" today is to look at the marginalized and say, "I see you. You are an image-bearer of the Creator."
Almsgiving as an Act of Resistance
In this Lenten theme, we reframe almsgiving. It isn't just about dropping a few coins into a box to appease a sense of religious duty. It is an act of resistance against a culture of greed. Every time you give sacrificially—whether it’s your money, your time, or your advocacy—you are taking a hammer to the "Way of the World" and helping build the "Way of the Cross."
Invitation to the Journey
This week, I challenge you to create your own "Station of the Street." On your commute, at the grocery store, or in your office, look for the struggle. Where is someone falling? Who is being mocked? Where is a mother weeping for her children? Do not look away. Lent calls us to stand at the foot of the cross, and in the 21st century, that cross is often located in the places we’d rather not go.
Questions
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The Observation: On your daily commute or walk, where do you see "The Way of the Cross" manifesting? Is it in a local food bank, a lonely neighbor, or a stressed coworker?
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The Action: Simon of Cyrene didn't choose his burden; it was thrust upon him. Has a "burden" been placed on you lately that you’ve been resisting? How might that burden actually be an invitation to walk with Christ?
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The Prayer: "Lord, open my eyes to see Your face in the people I usually overlook."