The Stations of the Cross is such a venerable custom that all churches will have their own representations around the walls of the nave. At the Oratory, we have stations recited publically by one of the Fathers on Fridays, which is a wonderful gift during Lent.
I hope that these stations I have compiled will help you appreciate Franz Liszt's work, and to derive the special graces which such a meditation entails.
To continue from Station XIII (taking down Jesus from the Cross) go here. To start the Stations from the beginning, go here, or to my Introduction.
The image of the Pieta, which features in my final credits slide (Michaelangelo) is a wonderful meditation in itself. The hymn usually sung during the Stations of the Cross, Stabat Mater, accompanies this slide in plainchant and is a beautiful Lenten hymn. Here follows the English translation suitable for singing:
At the cross her station keeping,
stood the mournful mother weeping,
close to Jesus to the last
Through her heart, his sorrow sharing,
all his bitter anguish bearing,
now at length the sword had passed.
Oh how sad and sore distressed
was that mother highly blessed,
of the sole-begotten One!
Christ above in torment hangs;
she beneath beholds the pangs
of her dying glorious Son.
Is there one who would not weep,
whelmed in miseries so deep
Christ's dear Mother to behold?
Can the human heart refrain
from partaking in her pain,
in that Mother's pain untold?
For the sins of His own nation
saw Him hang in desolation,
all with bloody scourges rent.
Bruised, derided, cursed, defiled,
she beheld her tender child,
till His Spirit forth he sent.
O, thou Mother, fount of love,
touch my spirit from above,
make my heart with thine accord.
Make me feel as thou has felt;
make my soul to glow and melt
with the love of Christ our Lord.
Holy Mother, pierce me through;
in my heart each wound renew
of my Saviour crucified.
Let met share with thee his pain,
who for all my sins was slain,
who for me in torments died.
Let me mingle tears with thee,
mourning Him Who mourned for me,
all the days that I may live.
By the cross with thee to stay,
there with thee to weep and pray,
this I ask of thee to give.
Virgin, of all virgins blest,
O refuse not my request:
let me in thy weeping share
Let me, to my latest breath,
in my body bear the death
of that dying Son of thine.
Wounded with his every wound,
steep my soul till it hath swooned
in His very blood away.
Be to me, O Virgin, nigh,
lest in flames I burn and die,
in that awful judgment day.
Christ, when thou shalt call me hence,
be Thy mother my defense,
be Thy cross my victory.
While my body here decays,
may my soul Thy goodness praise,
safe in