Stationed at the Cross

When Katia first asked me whether I wanted to be involved with the 'Stations of the Cross Service', I was battling with the thought of having yet another thing that would cut into my already busy timetable. However, I loved the idea of being able to worship creatively, and her vision for the service was really inspiring; also, I increasingly base my decisions on the time I can then spend with people I want to learn from, so I saw this as an opportunity to get to know her (and some of the other postgrads involved) better. Therefore, I agreed to help out.

Looking back on the week just past, I am more than glad that I gave in; the making of the stations really was an extraordinary experience.

We almost invaded the Parish Centre, and turned various rooms into wonderful dumps of glue, paper, craft knives and mount boards. What fun! As we were working away throughout the week, a number of people commented on our messy creativity, with bursts of admiration ranging from the UK-ian "quite nice" to the continental "IMPRESSIVE!!" One of the more inquisitive people thought (to our amusement) that we were cutting the stations for Lauren's wedding on Saturday... which would have turned it into a rather sombre occasion I believe!

A beautiful confirmation of God's delight in His worshippers were the details of His provision. On Thursday, when we were in full flow and had quite a number of people working on the stations, we got really hungry but didn't want to lose any time getting food. Just at this moment, someone walked past us with a plate of five leftover baked potatoes, which then filled our five hungry stomachs... they must have been the best baked potatoes we had ever dug our teeth into! We even got dessert by a different person who offered us leftovers from another church event. And on Saturday Katia and I were invited to the leftovers from the wedding – which means we didn't just get ANY food, but WEDDING food!! It's almost as if the Lord wanted to remind us of what will come after that last station...

And then there were those random acts of kindness, like people getting us coffee, vergers renewing the play list every time it ran out, and turning up the music so we could hear it in another room, or staff offering to hoover up our mess after we'd finished.

All this was beautiful. However, one of my key moments (which changed my approach to the whole project after having been very frustrated at the slow progress on Wednesday night) occurred on Thursday, when I was carving the contours of a praying Jesus in the garden of Gethsemane; his figure was stooped down, and just like in the gospel, drops of sweat like blood were falling from His forehead. As most will agree, there is something deeply moving about fully grown men in such agony; this hour of Jesus in the garden, with His disciples asleep, however was only the beginning of an ever-increasing darkness He had to enter. As I was cutting and carving out this figure of Jesus, I entered anew into the realisation of His sacrifice, and it hit me again: "HE DID THIS FOR YOU!!"

Cutting, carving and assembling the stations was not at all about craftsmanship - although for the glory of God I did not want to give less than my very best. But really it was about worshipping and loving the one whose passion we would reflect on as we journeyed through these stations of the cross.

I must say that at first I had been slightly annoyed at the unrealistic plans of carving relieves of several figures for each of the A0-stations, and at the precision and relentlessness that went into the actual process; it would take us days on end, when really we could have put together something much faster and possibly equally effective. But then I realised - isn't the Most High King worthy of such extravagance? In fact, He is worth much more than this; my efforts are like a droplet in the ocean of the sea of praise that should constantly engulf Him! This is only a tiny bit of what I can do to show Him how much I love Him...

As I was cutting and carving, I anticipated the actual service and became aware of the responsibility of the 'visual worship leading' that we had embarked upon; the representation of these stations are likely to have an (even subconscious) impact on people's understanding of the scenes, so the expression of the figures' emotions needed to be faithful. This, too, made me want to give that extra bit, not be satisfied with second-class results: no fringed edges were tolerated, no pencil mark left to smudge the white cardboard. Soon I became completely engrossed in the scenes of the stations. So much so that it was a weird sensation to be cutting the spears that would later pierce Jesus' side, and before that cause Him so much threat and pressure and mocking. Or to cut the beams that would form His cross - my initials are carved right into them... after all, this is what led Him there in the first place.

I think now I can understand a bit more the gift of Mary who poured precious oil over Jesus' feet... yes, if she had sold the oil, she could have given the money to the poor. Yes, if had used my time this week more effectively, I would have got things done. And so could all of us, especially those who had presentations for their courses to do, or Dphils to complete... I found that the hours upon hours spent in creating these stations really epitomised my mission for this Lent - not to prove that I can go without biscuits or coffee for a set amount of time, but to just BE in His presence and go with His gentle promptings. I had tried to consciously give a tenth of my time each day for this, as way of forming a lifetime habit. The results have been incredible, even though they are secondary. The creation of these twelve stations especially will be a reminder of what Lent (and our life really) is all about, and I think I will always think back to this week as a highlight of this season.