Lourdes High Station 01 is a climb upward on a steep, paved and unpaved path, this station hits me a little differently because this time I am alone without my pilgrimage group around me? Or am I just overwhelmed by the design and art of this station?
As I reach this station from the incline makes the body ache, and my breath shorten, could this be part of the grace. Condemnation feels heavier with Jesus standing so close to me.
As I climbed each step closer and closer to Jesus it's becoming more real inside of me as I am approaching my Lord.
It's 2:00 p.m. high sun, my cheeks are rosy, red from the incline, but I am taken aback by this first station.
Lourdes is known for the healings that occur here. People come from every corner of the world with the hope of being restored in body, mind and heart.
Faith, I feel in restored in this place. But the first station can be a reminder that healing often begins at the point of our deepest rejections.
Jesus standing here condemned looking out at me He trusts in the Father. Jesus is not weak he is free, free to obey the Father, even though there is injustice.
From up here looking down the mountain the town is still busy with pilgrims moving about. I wish I had brought a bottle of water with me, but instead that thirst is quenched by the grace I am receiving as I visit this station. Grace often begins in hidden, painful places — far above comfort, but close to Heaven. Maybe that’s why this station had to be placed high above the rest. So we could see just how far love is willing to go.
Jesus is Condemned to Death
Lord Jesus, You accepted the sentence without any defense.
Even though this was unfair you bore the weight of the moment.
From time to time the burdens I carry aren't anything like yours, My Lord.
Even today I am so unsure of many things and only look to you.
You have taught me to trust in You my Lord, let my journey through your Passion today be a descent into your Grace.
So many questions fill my mind as to what happened, how did this happen so quickly. I am more afraid of the crowds around me as I imagine me standing with them watching.
What is wrong with the people then and today, no one is listening. Everyone is jumping to conclusions, social media is exploding with so much violence. Again another question comes to mind; Why are we so far away from God?
What happened?
How did they shift so quickly?
What were they afraid of?
Back then was it fear of losing their place in the world? Was it fear of change, fear of standing alone? I’ve felt that fear too — in meetings where I knew something wasn’t right, in conversations where truth was inconvenient, in moments where staying silent seemed safer. But in truth it is not the thing to do.
I’ve been part of the crowd. And I’ve let fear drown out truth.
Their voices echo still — not just back then, but today, in every decision I make. And up here at the first station, far above the noise of daily life, I can finally hear what I’ve been avoiding. Truth still stands silent in the face of condemnation, waiting for me to see.
As I contemplate your condemnation it is hard, sharp and demanding. I remember being accused of something I did not do in the workplace. It's a heaviness of being believed.
The religious leaders didn’t condemn Jesus because of truth — they condemned Him because they feared His influence. He exposed their pride, their comfort, their control. Instead of changing, they twisted the truth to protect themselves.
Revealing something in someone else is dangerous because it gets personal. I admit because I’ve done that too, I have bent the truth to avoid conflict. The cost is too much, so I have rationalized my way out of an uncomfortable situation.
The only one not hiding anything in this scene is Jesus. And that’s why His silence feels so loud.
“An honest man is a child of God.” — St. John Vianney
This Lourdes High Station 01 is painful — not because it’s long ago, but because it’s still happening. Truth is still being put on trial. And I’m still being asked which side I’ll stand on.
Mary teaches me how to be steady and strong in my faith. I think about her just being present in this moments watching her son Jesus stand before Pilate. Their wasn't anything for her to do to stop it, she stayed steady, yet sorrowful and believing.
No one defended Him or stood with Him. I remember Peter or any of his disciples, saying they would not leave Him. But they did was if fear of dying? How many times I ask myself this question, will I be strong enough?
I just want the faith of Mary even when everything looks lost. I want to be able to hold on to the moment and watch God’s plan unfold, even in the shadow of death.
It didn’t make the pain easier for Mary, but it gave it meaning. As I climb this hill, step by step, I ask for that same faith — not a feeling, not an answer, but a choice. A decision to trust when the path is steep and the reasons aren’t clear.
Mary reminds me that faith isn’t certainty — it’s fidelity. And her presence at this first station is an invitation: to believe when belief costs something.
I talked about comfort zones and this being a place to test that.
I believe there were 28 steps to the top of this display.
These steps are called the Holy Stairs also known as Scala Sancta a replica of the original Scala Sancta in Rome.
I did not do the climb on my knees, but others did. I could only imagine the profound experience achieved or suffering.
As a final note about this station as the beginning of the Passion of our Lord Jesus Christ. As I take the time to think more about this journey at that time the people didn't know why he had to take this journey.
Today I know why he had to take this journey for me. I sit in the silence of knowing now. Just as Jesus didn't come to fix the Romans or the religions back then, I don't believe he will do that now.
What am I condemning today that I don't fully understand. I need to be watchful of my thoughts in these trying times.
Will I have courage to see the pain and walk through as Jesus did. I can only pray for that strength, faith and love.
I am not afraid to move forward in this time, my time, are you?