In his meditations crafted for the Good Friday Way of the Cross at the Colosseum—conducted on the evening of April 18 by Cardinal Baldo Reina on behalf of Pope Francis—the Holy Father articulates a profound reflection on our contemporary challenges. He underscores that in an era dominated by inhumane economies driven solely by calculations and algorithms, cold logic, and relentless interests, the only true path toward transformation is to turn to the Savior, Jesus Christ.
This journey offered to every individual is not merely a physical one; it is a deep and introspective path, requiring a reckoning of one’s conscience. As we pause to contemplate Christ’s sufferings along the way to Calvary, Pope Francis poignantly reveals that the Way of the Cross signifies a descent undertaken by Jesus “toward this world that God loves” (Station II). This journey embodies Christ’s response to human suffering—a profound acceptance of responsibility. Nailed to the Cross, Jesus intercedes for humanity, positioning Himself “between conflicting parties” (Station XI) and guiding them toward God. His cross serves as a powerful symbol that tears down walls, cancels debts, quashes judgments, and establishes a foundation for reconciliation. In the act of stripping Himself bare, even before those who watch Him die, Jesus sees each person as “beloved ones entrusted by the Father,” demonstrating His deep desire to save “all of us, each and every one” (Station X).
Pope Francis urges us to liberate ourselves from our own rigid schemes and insights, inviting us to embrace “God’s economy,” which is characterized by compassion rather than destruction. This divine economy “does not kill, discard, or crush; it is humble, attuned to the earth” and calls us to follow the path of Jesus, one marked by the Beatitudes. This path, unlike the merciless world of “calculation and algorithms,” is one that “cultivates, repairs, and protects” (Station III). The Pope reflects on the significance of “divine economy” (Station VII), which starkly contrasts today’s systems of cold efficiency and self-interest. For humanity’s sake, Christ accepted the burden of the cross, a heavy weight that symbolizes the breath of the Spirit, “who is Lord and gives life” (Station II). Yet, we often find ourselves “running out of breath” as we evade our responsibilities. The Pope implores us to stop fleeing from our duties and to remain present with those who are in our lives and in the situations assigned to us. Only then can we break free from being “prisoners” of our own making. What truly burdens us are the chains of “selfishness” and “indifference.”
In the introduction to the fourteen Stations of the Cross, Pope Francis highlights that through Jesus’ steps toward Golgotha, we witness “our exodus to a new land.” This is a call to recognize that Christ came to transform the world, prompting us to “change direction” and witness the goodness inherent in His traces. The Stations of the Cross thus become a powerful prayer “of people on the move,” a ritual that disrupts our habitual routines. It paves the way for a costly but necessary journey in a world where “gratuitousness comes at a dear price.” Yet, within this gift of self, the Pope observes, “everything blossoms anew” — healing can occur even in a city divided by conflict, a dry religious life can rediscover the vitality of God’s promises, and hardened hearts can be transformed into ones of compassion.
The gravity of Jesus’ death sentence leads us to reflect on the “dramatic interplay of our individual freedoms” (Station I). The trust with which God places Himself “in our hands” breeds a “holy restlessness” from which remarkable acts can unfold: freeing the unjustly condemned, navigating complex moral dilemmas, and countering lethal judgments that stifle hope. Despite this, we often remain “prisoners” to our identities, clinging to our roles and fearing the discomfort that comes with altering our life’s direction. We frequently overlook the transformative possibilities offered by the Way of the Cross. Jesus stands silently before us in every marginalized sister and brother subjected to judgment and prejudice, challenging us to engage. Yet, we allow a multitude of justifications—“religious arguments, legal quibbles,” and the so-called common sense that shies away from involvement in others’ lives— to pull us toward the specters of Herod, the priests, Pilate, and the crowd. Nevertheless, Jesus remains steadfast; He does not wash His hands of our struggles. In His moment of suffering, nailed to the wood of the Cross, He demonstrates that in every circumstance, there lies a choice to be made—the glorious “amazing reality of our freedom.” He extends His care even to the criminals beside Him, allowing one’s insults to pass while welcoming the other’s plea for mercy, exemplifying the depth of His love and forgiveness: “Father, forgive them; for they do not know what they are doing.”
