stairway to heaven

“Apart from the cross,
there is no other ladder by which we may get to heaven.”

St. Rose of Lima


(Hotel Oud Huis de Peellaert stairway/ Bruges, Belgium/ Julie Cook 2011)

Remember back in the day, those heady days of the early 1970’s?
We had just crossed over the infamous Rubicon—a time of transition from the turbulent 60’s
crossing the threshold into a new decade—we did not want to look back.
Rather we crossed over, hoping the new decade would bring us
the gift of change….positive, war-free days change.

Musically it was a time just prior to the colorful days of spinning mirrored balls,
platform shoes, Night Fever and the world of all things Disco.
It was a quickly closing window of time…a time when rock bands still vied for the
waning spotlight.

It was a time when every sweaty-palmed young man and every young lady whose smile bore
the glint of silver braces, each felt a magical flutter when hearing the familiar and melodic
opening notes to the perfect slow dance song of all time—
the song that created an almost 10 full magical minutes of holding close slow dancing…

Should you dare rest your head on his shoulder??
Should you dare pull her closer to your chest??

Led Zepplin’s Stairway to Heaven

And if you listen very hard
The tune will come to you at last
When all is one and one is all, that’s what it is
To be a rock and not to roll, oh yeah
And she’s buying a stairway to heaven

Robert Plant, Jimmy Page / Led Zeppelin

Granted, I for one loved dancing to the song…especially if I was dancing
with “the one”—that particular boy who had stolen my fancy at that particular time
in life.

But I must admit, I often pondered those lyrics as the visual image of a stairway to Heaven
was akin to St. John Climacus’ The Ladder of Divine Ascent, also known as the Ladder of Paradise.


(The 12th century Ladder of Divine Ascent icon /Saint Catherine’s Monastery, Sinai Peninsula, Egypt/
showing monks, led by John Climacus, ascending the ladder to Jesus, at the top right.

There were 30 rungs to the ladder…each a nod to the thirty some odd years of Christ’s life.
“It is the Divine model of the religious,
it presents a picture of all the virtues and contains a great many parables and historical touches,
drawn principally from the monastic life, and exhibiting the practical application of the precepts.”

And all of these thoughts came flooding to the forefront of my thoughts when I read today’s quote
by St. Rose of Lima.
There is no avoiding the cross as we look to climb the ladder to Heaven.

Many of the faithful, more of our Protestant brethren, often don’t understand what is
most often perceived as a bizarre and often macabre view of the cross, or crucifix,
that our Catholic, Orthodox and Anglican brethren seem to fixate upon.

And I for one tend to be one of those who look toward that cross.

It is the dark shadow of our faith that so many prefer to ignore or simply look past
pretending it doesn’t exist…but I see it for what it is.
The only means by which I now have hope.

For it there was no cross, there would be no hope.
If there is no decent into Hell, there is no ascent to Heaven.

It is the ugly truth as some would say…but I say it is the only truth.

There would be no Easter, no resurrection, without the cross.

We are told that we must carry that cross if we wish to live.
We can not avoid it.

There is no Easter joy if there is no cross of Good Friday.

The sacrifice had to be made if any of us were to be saved.

So yes, the cross is indeed our stairway to Heaven…

Arise, shine; for your light has come, and the glory of the Lord has risen upon you.
For behold, darkness will cover the earth, and deep darkness the peoples;
but the Lord will rise upon you, and His glory will appear upon you.
And nations will come to your light, and kings to the brightness of your rising.

Isaiah 60:1-3

The assent

We want to avoid suffering, death, sin, ashes. But we live in a world crushed and broken and torn, a world God Himself visited to redeem. We receive his poured-out life, and being allowed the high privilege of suffering with Him, may then pour ourselves out for others.”
Elisabeth Elliot

DSC00247
(bronze hanging Crucifixion / Muzeum Polskie (Polish Museum) Rapperswil, Switzerland / Julie Cook / 2013)

We all are climbing upward are we not?
The task of scaling up along the rocky face of an arduous mountain.
Each of us burdened by the load that we carry across our shoulders.
Each load being different, one from the next. . .
My load is not the same as yours. . .
Some loads seem heavier than others.
Perhaps those who appear to bear the heavier burdens are pitted. . .
Perhaps others are thankful for a falsely perceived lighter load. . .
Yet no one really comprehends that all burdens equal out as dead weight in an uphill climb.
Nevertheless, the assent must continue, ever upward, for there is no going back down.
Everyone labors under the crushing weight strapped across their shoulders.
All souls battle putting one foot in front of the other.
Hands are bloodied and muscles ache as swollen mouths burn dry.
A desperate tongue works to find any remaining moisture in a mouth full of grit.
The howling winds pushing those trying to inch their way forward, sends many falling far behind.
Frustration mixes with the sense of doom.
The mind races debating the choices–continue or quit. . .
Live another moment or perish on the mountain.
The assent becoming greater than any climber seems able to bear.
Torn feet slip amongst the jagged rocks.
The path runs red as liquid begins flowing downward.
Hopelessness glances upward

At the top of the mountain a lone figure hangs lifeless against a raging sky
All journeymen along the mountain stop, as dimmed eyes turn toward the pinnacle.
A sudden silence overtakes the mountain.
The winds cease as the air becomes heavy.
Clouds no longer swirl overhead.
The earth is now without movement.
The only sign of life is the distant caw of a lone cock far below in the unseen valley.
No one moves along the mountain, yet the weight of each man’s burden mysteriously eases.
Bent and distorted frames begin to stand erect as all continue gazing at the lifeless form.
Burdens vanish in the stillness.
Torn hands and feet heal.
The jagged path now oddly smooth.
Life flows from one being to the next,
As mouths no longer yearn for moisture.
Time turns itself inside out,
as those who climb now find themselves descending
No longer the arduous climb, but rather an ease filled descent
All that was is suddenly no more
as everything has been left in the shadow of the lifeless form.