STATION 13: JESUS IS TAKEN DOWN FROM THE CROSS

Afterward Joseph of Arimathea, who had been a secret disciple of Jesus (because he feared the Jewish leaders), asked Pilate for permission to take down Jesus’ body. When Pilate gave permission, Joseph came and took the body away. With him came Nicodemus, the man who had come to Jesus at night. He brought about seventy-five pounds of perfumed ointment made from myrrh and aloes. Following Jewish burial custom, they wrapped Jesus’ body with the spices in long sheets of linen cloth. The place of crucifixion was near a garden, where there was a new tomb, never used before. And so, because it was the day of preparation for the Jewish Passover and since the tomb was close at hand, they laid Jesus there.
— John 19:38-42 (New Living Translation)

Station 13

The crowd has gone.
The noise has quieted.
The sky, once torn by thunder,
now sits in heavy stillness.

And there he hangs—
lifeless, bruised, still bearing the marks of love.

Joseph and Nicodemus step forward.
Quiet men, once fearful, now moved by loss.
They do what love does in the aftermath—
they make room for grief.
They honor the body.
They hold what others turned away from.

There is something sacred about this tenderness—
this moment of unhurried care.
The cross is not erased.
The pain is not undone.
But it is cradled, held,
wrapped in cloth,
and prepared for rest.

This is the holy work of mourning.
And it matters.
Jesus is no less the Son of God
in death than he was in life.

Even here,
he is wrapped in reverence.

Let us pray.

Jesus, your body was taken down with care, held by those who had once stayed in the shadows. Grief gave them courage.

We pray for those who tend to death with love: for funeral home workers, for mothers who bathe a child one last time, for friends who sit in vigil, for all who say goodbye with reverence.

Help us not to rush past sorrow, but to honor what has been lost.

And when we feel helpless in the face of suffering — teach us that presence matters. That compassion is enough.

Let us cradle what is broken, not with fear, but with love that does not run away.

Amen.