Twelfth Station Jesus on the cross; his mother and his friend John 19: 26,27 Gathered at the foot of the cross, we have come to grieve our loss. That this should be, we could not see; that he would leave us this way – as the one who had come to save. Through the pain he perceives them: a huddled group, united in distress. Their agony is for him, which moves him to the urge to give the comfort they deserve: the women, the disciple he loves, and she, who carried such responsibility. Can you see me, Jesus my son; can you see that I have come? How could I have been kept away, when I see what they have done. If I could, I would wipe your face, if I could, I would take your place. He still has enough time left to atone, for all the times he went alone; when it was first the Father’s voice he heard, and not hers; and yet she never complained when he went away, and could not explain, but now he can see; she is with the beloved – John ben Zebedee. My courage left me – I, John, fled away, when he was taken at Gethsemane. How could I then accuse Judas, when my love for him became a deceit; When it was tested by its defeat? Could he forgive if I ask again? My penance shall be my attendance: to be with him to the bitter end. He has become his pain, it ebbs and flows, with every breath; measured by the time he can take, while supported on the rest. And time, like his breath is sliding away; it spurs him to attend to their despair; he can feel their grief, one to another; he says to her: “Mother, here is now your son”, and to John: “Beloved, here is now your mother”. From this day they will care for each other.