Via Crucis

Yesterday, Good Friday, we wanted to go see the Via Crucis of Citta Sant'Angelo. We have gone twice before and I blogged about it here last year. I love Citta Sant'Angleo because of its historic buildings and great view. Going to see the Via Crucis, or Way of the Cross has become a special thing for me and this year, even though I was exhausted from walking all day, I was determined to join others in this significant moment. A moment where I can recall inside of me the great sacrifice someone had for me and what that means.

We got into the car weary from the long trod under the sun on the beach. My feet ached, his feet ached and before you knew it we took a wrong turn and were lost on some winding road. I am not a fan of turning roads in Italy and especially not in the dark where only the locals will know when to slow down and when to turn. Wrong turns turned into cranky turns and we decided to forget arriving to Citta Sant'Angelo and head home. I was grumpy and disappointed to say the least, I really wanted to share this special moment with others. As we found the right street home a police officer stepped into the middle of traffic and stopped our car. "Great" we thought, "A car accident." We would have to wait. Then, out of the darkness we heard the crackling sound of a cheap speaker with the voice of the local town priest announcing the 14 stations of the cross, each station is a point in the walk Jesus made on his road to Calvary. Cars behind us lined up by the hundreds, everyone impatient to get going. Then, infront of our car stepped the priest with a very simple cross, followed by altar boys, men carried the statue representing a dead Jesus. Here is one in the church nearby. It is lifesize and shows what Jesus may have looked like.

And other men carried a statue of the Mourning Mary in black.

Mary in Mourning brings comfort to all who suffer the death of a loved one, especially a child.

You can see my video of it by clicking on the blog rather than reading in email format.

I was stunned. Here I was complaining bitterly about missing the Via Crucis and it came to me. The procession stopped our car and walked in front of me. We could have been the 50th car in the line of stopped cars but we were the fist.

There pasted the priest, a very simple cross, a very simple statue of Jesus and a small black statue of Mary. Then, what impressed me the most were the hundreds, maybe even a thousand people from the small town who all followed in solemn silence behind the statues. All silent in the dark with a single candle, remembering the one who came to show us how to live, how to love, how to pray then was killed for our sins so we could one day have life everlasting and pure. I watched the people pass: moms, boy scouts, teens. No one impressed me as particularly intellectual or smart. In fact, many of the town people looked quite simple and some even stupid. I thought about that realizing that Jesus died for all of us, even the stupid ones, perhaps especially the stupid ones (myself included). You don't have to be a church goer, have a perfect house, fake politician-wife smile or a degree to deserve His love every minute, every day. Of course, a politician-wife smile is desirable but that can be reached with a good dentist and Crest Whitestrips. I have made remarkably amusing errors in my life and could never work my way to heaven with spectacular goodness or money, as some think, nor do I deserve to have a God that cares when I am my grossest version of myself. But there he is, still caring everyday. He died even for stupid ol' me who should pray more sincerely every day and be less vain, use better grammar, stand straight, be less judgemental and a be better person than what I am. But he likes me even when I am a grouchy unbearable witch and is there to listen when my heart aches, there to praise and thank for all the good I have in my life. I was pretty happy we got front row seats in our car, so unexpectedly and were able to see the Via Crucis.

We drove home quietly after that and the lights on the hills of Abruzzo all dimmed then turned off in respect and remembrance of the day Jesus was crucified.