Holy Thursday at the Spiritan seminary in Enugu, Nigeria. Holy hour in the evening. I look forward to quiet prayer. No, it’s constant vocal prayer: Rosary, litanies, etc. Hour upon hour. Later, I spend a few days with some Nigerian sisters. By 6:00 in the morning, we are on our knees in the chapel reciting morning prayer, Rosary, etc., etc. before Mass. I’m definitely the outsider here in my expectations of prayer. Then I remember hearing about the American Passionists first setting up a retreat house in Korea, with private bedrooms, of course. But the Koreans didn’t want to sleep alone, so brought mattresses into other rooms so they could be together.

I’d like to begin with a story:

“In the ancient days, when the first quiver of speech came to my lips, I ascended  the holy mountain and spoke unto God saying, "Master, I am thy slave. Thy hidden will is my law and I shall obey Thee for evermore." But God made no answer and like a mighty tempest passed away. And after a thousand years I ascended the holy mountain and again spoke unto God, saying,  “Creator, I am Thy creation. Out of clay hast thou fashioned me and to thee I owe mine all.” And God made no answer, but like a thousand swift wings passed away.

And after a thousand years I climbed the holy mountain and spoke unto God again, saying,  “Father, I am thy son. In pity and love thou hast given me birth and through love and worship I shall inherit thy kingdom.” And God made no answer, and like the mist that veils the distant hills passed away. And after a thousand years, I climbed the sacred mountain and again spoke unto God, saying, “My God, my aim and my fulfillment;  I am Thy yesterday and thou art my tomorrow.  I am thy root in the earth and thou art my flower in the sky, and together we grow before the face of the sun.”

This morning let us take this time to be with the women on the way of the cross and enter into their minds and hearts. In particular, let us focus on the wound in each of their hearts as a way to enter into their heart-suffering, that of others, and perhaps our own.  I will be offering you my reflections on what I imagine they may have been thinking and feeling. I invite you to imagine what you think they may have been thinking and feeling. After each station, let us take a moment to pray silently.