Way of Suffering
Mar 6, 2026 | By Joseph Yu BF ‘28
In a seriously convoluted (and miraculous) series of circumstances, I joined a Christian a cappella group last fall. My debut song was one I heard every Good Friday growing up, often set to the crucifixion scene from The Passion of the Christ. Our church elders would often warn parents with young children to politely remove themselves from the sanctuary due to the graphic content (which, in my opinion, is precisely what makes Mel Gibson’s film so powerful).
Whether through walls or sitting in the pews, that song I heard every year was none other than Sandi Patty’s Via Dolorosa—Latin for “Way of Suffering.” To this day, the Via Dolorosa remains a real route that purports to be Jesus’ final path from Pilate’s court to his crucifixion site at Golgotha.
Someday, all of us will experience our very last day on Earth. Perhaps we’d hope for it to be quick and peaceful. Jesus’ was quite the opposite. He was flogged beyond recognition, made to carry his own execution instrument, and pierced for our transgressions [1]. A part I often overlook is just how long his humiliation lasted—a full day. We might walk the short corridor pictured above in a minute. Jesus, beaten to such weakness that Simon of Cyrene had to step in and help carry the cross, might have taken upwards of half an hour. All while being berated by the very people who chanted “Hosanna!” (Save us!) at him a week prior.
Have you ever done a plank for a minute, which proceeded to feel like the longest minute of your life? I encourage us to view the Passion with time slowed down to that level. There’s a reason why all four gospels take several chapters (out of 10-20 total chapters) to describe this roughly 12-hour ordeal. As the lyrics of Via Dolorosa sing, “He bore with every step / The scorn of those who cried out for His death.” The sin of the world crashes down on his shoulders with every single step. Your sin. My sin. Each and every step.
Though the most ironic part of this, I will confess, is that the cross is the element of Christianity I’ve had the most trouble understanding. I think I’ve experienced God’s love, God’s power, and God’s plan, to name a few. But why, if God is already all of these, does he need to die for me? And why does Paul pinpoint the subsequent resurrection as so central that without its occurrence, our faith is wholly in vain? [2].
My journey of reflecting on this topic is not complete. I don’t know if it ever will be. But what I do know is that no other religion, prior or posterior, has ever come close to purporting something like the cross. As Nietzsche notes, the cross is such a radical departure from the only standard of “bigger army diplomacy” that the world knew before [3]. There is something special in the cross, in the only man who has ever been raised from the dead by his own power.
What might this special spark be? Perhaps none can fully comprehend, but I believe that, at the very least, part of it is God’s love. Jesus takes the cross upon himself because he loves each and every one of us so much. If you were the only person left on this pale blue dot, Jesus would still die on that cross for you. For no other reason than that he loves you. More than anyone on this earth could love you, even yourself.
After less than a month of rehearsals, I stepped forward from the choir and stared into the stage lights, holding a microphone in my right hand. At the penultimate line in the chorus, I opened my mouth to sing:
“But He chose to walk that road out of / His love for you and me.”
Please don’t search for the recording online. I promise I’ve improved drastically in the time since. My rendition last fall points to where I stand with the song now. Just as the crucifixion points to what’s yet to come. The best is yet to come [4].
[1] Isaiah 53:5
[2] 1 Corinthians 15:14
[3] https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jNgP6d9HraI. And no, even if the Golden Rule predates Christianity, that is not enough to suggest that a man like Jesus should suffer the worst possible form of execution. Jesus didn’t do unto others what he wanted done unto him. He did what he wishes we will all avoid.
[4] https://www.chicagotribune.com/2000/08/12/keep-your-fork-best-is-yet-to-come/