Praying the Stations of the Cross with St. Joseph
There was something about that face. Rugged and strong . . . the face of a carpenter that had known the fatigue of a hard day’s work and was not unaccustomed to struggles, and worries, and disappointments ... yet it also reflected the serenity of one who appreciated the beauty of His Father’s creation - the sun glistening on the Sea of Galilee, the scent of the wildflowers growing in the fields, and the patches of Aleppo pine trees that grew in the forests. It was a gentle face, one that beckoned both the righteous and the sinner to come and see, to hear and listen, to discover and be transformed. His was a gentle face, that reassured woman and children, the outcast and the poor, the sick and the brokenhearted, that He had come for them too, and that they had a place in His kingdom. There were laugh lines on His face which revealed that He laughed heartily and often, but there were also furrows on his brow which were windows to an inner sadness, a depth of thought, and a seriousness in His nature. And those eyes! Those eyes that were beacons of his love, his compassion, and his mercy . . . but above all, the depth of his soul.
All of this was the imprint that was captured on the cloth that the woman named Veronica pressed against Jesus’ face as she bravely, compassionately, broke from the crowd and pushed her way to Him amidst insults, shouts, curses and threats. But there was more, so much more, that the streams of blood, sweat and spit which dripped copiously from the condemned man’s face could not hide, that also became part of that imprint. Yes, pain and exhaustion, but more than that . . . courage - beyond that which is humanly possible; determination – a resolve to see this through to the end; a serenity that comes from the knowledge that, through it all, he has been true to Himself and true to the will of His Father; a sense of purpose - that all of this is not in vain, and He is accomplishing everything that He was born to fulfill, all that had been promised to humankind since Man first ate of the fruit of sin; and holiness - “For it was indeed fitting that we should have such a high priest, holy, innocent, unstained, separate from sinners, and exalted above the heavens.” (Hebrews 7:26).
All of that was captured on the cloth of the woman named Veronica, let we ever forget.
Let us pray . . . St. Joseph, in ancient Israel, people gave great thought to the name they gave to a child. Names were often translatable, and so, the name spoke of a virtue or quality they wished their child to possess, or something they hoped the child would accomplish. In recalling the passion of your son, we remember the brave and compassionate woman who pushed through the crowd to offer a simple act of kindness to Jesus by wiping his dirty, bloody, sweat-filled face. Her name, Veronica, means “true image” - a fitting name, not so much because of the imprint of His face left on her veil, but because. in her compassion, she, herself, became the “true image” of Jesus. St. Joseph, assist me to so reflect your son to others . . . by the warmth of my smile, the compassion and love in my eyes, and the kindness of my actions . . . that I, too, might be the “true image” of Jesus, so that when they see me, they see Him.
St. Joseph, Most Faithful, pray for us.
