28 Steps

We had been in Rome for several days by the time we reached the seemingly inauspicious building next to the Basilica of St. John Lateran in Rome.

Fr. Conley, the guide for our pilgrimage (he's a bishop now, based in Denver), told us the building held the holy staircase, the Scala Santa, that Jesus reputedly climbed on his way to trial before Pontius Pilate in Rome. He told us it was a tradition for pilgrims in Rome to climb those stairs one at a time on our knees, saying a prayer on each step.

There were more than 20 of us on the pilgrimage, and most of us quickly agreed to climb those stairs on our knees. It can't be that bad, I thought.

And the first few steps weren't. But then the stairs, worn to the consistency of a roiling sea by centuries of foot steps, began biting into my knees. Marble just doesn't give much, and it kept finding nerves I didn't even know I had. At least, I think it was marble. Bishop Conley tells me the stairs were covered with wood even then...but I didn't think wood undulated that much from wear. No matter what we were kneeling on, every step became painful.

Skin began to burn as I slowly, carefully climbed. I tried to scoot up on the stairs to shift the "landing point" to spots that didn't hurt so much. But the steps gnawed on my shins. My prayers were filled with pain -- and I wasn't even halfway to the top.

Yet what I was feeling was a faint echo of what the man who climbed these same stairs on His way to being crucified ultimately endured. And that's what kept me going. By the time I reached the top, my knees were bloody. My shins felt like notches had been carved into the bone.

For months after that, it was quite painful to kneel. To this day, 15 years later, I can't kneel without thinking of that journey up the Scala Santa --- and by extension, Jesus' Passion.

When Mel Gibson's "Passion of the Christ" came out, Protestant ministers admitted to me they focus on Easter and bypass Good Friday because the crucifixion isn't pleasant for their flocks to reflect upon. My brother recently told me the parish council at St. Vincent de Paul Catholic parish in Andover chose a crucifix for its new church that only has a faint hologram of Christ because they feared having a crucified Jesus up there would scare children.

But they're missing the fact that Christ knew full well His Passion was a fundamental piece of His mission. He warned His apostles repeatedly of it.

His suffering and death served as ransom for the souls of all mankind. If that seems challenging to grasp, ponder this: He knows what it's like to be wrongly accused and to suffer for it. He knows what it's like when we wonder if God has abandoned...or is ignoring....us. After all, He asked from the cross, "My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?"

He knows what it's like when we're facing difficult times and we're tempted to find a way to not drink that "cup." He's been there, too, in the Garden of Gethsemane.

His excruciating journey to and death on Calvary should serve as an invitation to turn to Him in difficult times...because He understands. I suspect that could resonate with even non-Christians.
While Christ's resurrection is the culmination -- and the ultimate purpose -- of His ministry, I'm convinced His Passion is a core part of His message: "This is how much I love you."

We deprive ourselves of something profound and powerful if we ignore it.