The sixth Station:VERONICA WIPES THE FACE OF JESUS.
I gave My back to the scourgers and My cheeks to them that plucked out the beard. I hid not My face from shame and spitting. The prophet Isaiah was speaking about You, wasn't he Jesus? I'm shocked that You gave Yourself to this treatment, this ...mistreatment.
You are coming into view more clearly now. I can see Your face, bruised and battered, Your one eye nearly swollen shut, the down pour of blood from the thorns has made Your face completely discolored. Jesus I know how much blood can come from one small cut on the scalp and here You are with an entire crown of sharp thorns thrust upon Your head! I wonder, how can You walk? How can You see to place one foot in front of the other? The blood drips into Your eyes. For a moment You stand still trying to see through that curtain of blood and tears, looking like a lost man seeking to find his way in the dark.
It just isn't fair! Why You? Why would anyone want to spit on Your face? Yet, I see traces of saliva clinging to Your cheeks. If I could wipe Your face clean of all the hurt and abuse, the filth of my sins...Please! Someone help Him!
That woman! Was it love or courage that made her dare to defy the commands of the guards and their pointed spears and run straight to You? She looks frightened enough but she doesn't let her fears stop her. Quickly she removes her veil, spotless and white and presses it to that terrible mess on Your face. Mostly everyone has been looking away in disqust. Not her! She removes her veil and stares straight into Your deformity and for a second You see clearly her face full of compassion and love for You.
Was that gesture like a kiss to Your broken heart? Did her eyes strengthen Your resolve to continue Your difficult journey? She would have her moments also of pain and difficulty, so You left her something that would help her during hard times, the image of Your sufferingface imprinted on her veil.
Dear Jesus, I'm asking for the same gift. Please press the image of Your suffering into my heart. Help me never, never to forget this Jesus, the One who suffered all the agonies of His Passion for me. Give me grace to memorize every detail in this picture as I trace the source of every wound: my sins. Without You I can do nothing. I'm asking that You IMAGE Yourself, Your love in me and through me!
What hours will you spend wiping My soiled Face?
What tears will you shed for your Saviour's disgrace?
Many arrows have broken My heart.
But your kisses heal My wound in part!
~Jesus