EAST BOSTON -- "We already have the cross over here," says Gloria Landaverde, a parishioner at Most Holy Redeemer Parish in East Boston.

Indeed, the 70-pound cross was resting on the St. Vincent de Paul drop box. It would soon be carried by two Jesuses. "Parking lot Jesus," as Pastor Father Thomas Domurat calls him, is Jesus Martinez (the name is merely a coincidence), a 19-year-old Boston College student who would reenact Calvary in the church parking lot for hundreds of onlookers on Good Friday, April 3. "Street Jesus" is parishioner Misael Palacios, who would carry the cross in a lavish procession through the streets of East Boston. Most Holy Redeemer's live Spanish-language dramatization of the Way of the Cross, a tradition in the parish for 17 years, is an epic on a biblical scale. The three-hour spectacle features multiple sets, dozens of actors in full costume, props, music, and special effects (a cackling black-robed Satan appears multiple times in puffs of smoke). Almost 100 cast and crew members rehearsed for over two months. This year's snowstorms limited the amount of time they had to prepare.

"It's hard to get all the people together and train them how they are supposed to act or try to do the best they can," said Carlos Ochoa, who has directed the Stations for about a decade. "It's hard. But we know God is the one that's going to take care."

His mission is to bring God into people's hearts.

"It keeps my faith getting stronger and stronger," he said.

On the morning of Good Friday, dozens of women in veils -- most actors in the passion play, one an actual woman religious, Sister Laura Mosqueda of the Missionaries Servants of the Word -- waited for their cues. Cast and crew members ate pizza and tamales. Volunteers were putting the finishing touches on a life-sized paper tomb. Outside, kids in biblical and modern garb sat on a stoop, drinking Gatorade and playing on their phones. A man with his arms folded leaned on a pickup truck and chatted with a Roman centurion. Across the lot from them was a bloody wooden pillar, a microphone tucked in its side. Atop the pillar was a bottle of children's washable red paint with a smiling seahorse on the label.

A panoramic backdrop of ancient Jerusalem stood against the severe stone walls of the church and the bleary East Boston sky. Pharisees wore sequin-studded robes. Caiaphas, a microphone jutting out of his beard, tended to a baby in a stroller. One of the Roman soldiers had a Hollister logo on his sleeve. Soon, it was showtime. The cast gathered in a circle and prayed the Seven Sorrows of Mary. A large crowd had gathered to watch the Stations. Johnny Cash's version of "Were You There" played on the speaker. Red capes fluttered in the wind. Car horns honked, and sirens blared.

Martinez was led in chains through the parking lot, kissed by Judas, condemned by Pilate, and brutally beaten with foam clubs.

"At first, I think it's something that you definitely have your doubts about, right?" said Martinez, a lifelong parishioner at Most Holy Redeemer. "But through prayer and constant practicing and constant prayer, you're able to ease the nerves."

The production was an unflinching portrayal of the physical and verbal abuse Jesus suffered. He said the foam clubs sometimes hurt, the makeup depicting his wounds made him feel sticky, and the cross is "pretty heavy."

"It's definitely a sacrifice," he said.

A drop of fake blood had congealed into a teardrop, suspended below his eye.

"It's something really empowering, and it causes change, like a radical change," he said.

At first, he said, he felt unworthy of playing Jesus. He spoke to multiple priests, who told him that no one is worthy of such a role.

"God doesn't choose the people who are prepared for such a thing, but he capacitates them," he said.

Palacios took over for Martinez during the procession through East Boston. Father Domurat helped coordinate the marchers. Solemn band music thundered from speakers attached to pickup trucks. Frightened dogs barked and stared. People watched from their windows, and stood astonished in the doorways of bodegas and butcher shops.

"God help us," one woman said.

The Romans' cries of "Rapido!" rang out through the neighborhood as they flogged Palacios with foam rods. Right beside him was Elias Martin, who has played Gestas, the "impenitent thief" crucified alongside Jesus, 15 times. Covered in fake blood, he carried a wooden beam on his shoulders.

"Every time we come to this time of year, I renew my faith," he said. "And I think this role introduced me to what I am, because I always feel like I fell in my faith."

His performance is a sacrifice, something for him to offer the Lord.

"I want to thank God for everything he has done for me," he said.

The long procession wrapped around the neighborhood before returning to the parking lot. Martinez was "nailed" to the cross and lifted. His side was "pierced," he said his last words, expired, and was lowered. After that, the cast retreated to the lower church to pray, then had a group photo. The two bloodied Christs, crowned with thorns, were smiling.