Jesus Falls on the Road to the Cross

6 04 2007

The shrouded cross

Jesus Falls on the road to the Cross – Timothy McNeely


The earth was still heart-dark

between his toes. He breathed

the air of Eden. Dust of earth,

man rose from the ground

where God had formed his flesh.


John and the prophets came in skins

or bald; through holes in walls;

they were fed by birds,

or cooled by wild vines.

We wanted none of them.


Then the second Adam stood

to drink the brimful cup;

and hit again he fell again,

weighed down by burdens

and the tree he’d hang upon.

Ground in the dust, his blood

began to mingle back with earth.

God’s son collapsed,

Golgotha close at hand.


This single man who had no sin

was a thorn in the flesh

and an embarrassment to us.

We sought no word or counsellor;

we wished for silent gods.

This man on whom we spent our wrath,

he heard our wish; and God

was silent for a time,

and turned his face away

from us in our free will.


Bruised and bloodstained,

he crawled on towards that place

where we would fill his cup

and curse his name, who gave us wine,

who taught our consciences.

On the road to Calvary he fell

three times to earth – ground

that he had made himself –

the Word begotten for this day.

Jesus Falls

This poem was contributed by Timothy McNeely of Tacoma Washington. The photos come from a 2004 Stations of the Cross at Notrh Seattle Friends Church.




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