The Way of the Cross

We adore Thee O Christ and we praise Thee ~ Because by Thy holy Cross Thou hast redeemed the world.

 

3.18 – We pray the Stations of the Cross in front of our home altar when we are unable to make it to mass.  We use The Way of the Cross for Children and these wonderful candles.

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Stabat Mater

At the cross her station keeping,
Stood the mournful Mother weeping,
Close to Jesus to the last:
Through her heart, His sorrow sharing,
All His bitter anguish bearing,
Lo! the piercing sword had passed!

O how sad, and sore distressed,
Now was she, that Mother Blessed
Of the Sole-begotten One;
Woe-begone, with heart’s prostration,
Mother meek, the bitter Passion
Saw she of her glorious son

Who could mark, from tears refraining,
Christ’s dear Mother uncomplaining,
In so great a sorrow bowed?
Who, unmoved, behold her languish
Underneath His Cross of anguish,
‘Mid the fierce, unpitying crowd?

For His people’s sins rejected,
She her Jesus, unprotected,
Saw with thorns, with scourges rent;
Saw her Son from judgment taken,
Her beloved in death forsaken,
Till His Spirit forth He sent.

Fount of love and holy sorrow,
Mother! may my spirit borrow
Somewhat of thy woe profound;
Unto Christ, with pure emotion,
Raise my contrite heart’s devotion,
Love to read in every Wound.

Those five Wounds on Jesus smitten,
Mother! in my heart be written,
Deep as in thine won they be:
Thou, my Savior’s cross who bearest,
Thou, thy Son’s rebuke who sharest,
Let me share them both with thee!

In the Passion of my Maker
Be my sinful soul partaker,
Weep till death, and weep with thee;
Mine with thee be that sad station,
There to watch the great Salvation
Wrought upon the atoning Tree.

Virgin thou of virgins fairest,
May the bitter woe thou sharest
Make on me impression deep:
Thus Christ’s dying may I carry,
With Him in His Passion tarry,
And His wounds in memory keep.

May His Wounds transfix me wholly,
May His Cross and Life Blood holy
Ebriate my heart and mind;
Thus inflamed with pure affection,
In the Virgin’s Son protection
May I at the judgment find.

When in death my limbs are failing,
Let Thy Mother’s prayer prevailing
Lift me, Jesus! to Thy throne;
To my parting soul be given
Entrance through the gate of Heaven,
There confess me for Thine own.
Amen.