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Jesus
Can you be brave enough,
my other self,
to wipe my bloody face?
Where is my face, you ask?
At home whenever eyes fill up with tears,
at work when tensions rise, on playgrounds
in the slums, the courts, the hospitals, the jails
--
wherever suffering exists --
my face is there.
And there I look for you
to wipe away my blood and tears.
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Response
O Lord, grant me a momento of yourself. Print your face upon my thoughts and your likeness within my heart.
Live in me. Act in me. Love in me but not in me alone -- in all of us who follow you -- so that we may reveal no more your bloody but your glorious face on earth.
O God, who before the passion of your only-begotten Son revealed his glory upon the holy mountain: Grant to us that we, beholding by faith the light of his contenance, may be strengthened to bear our cross, and be changed into his likeness from glory to glory; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen
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| The procession moved upward toward Ghareb, the
peak of Calvary standing out against the sky to the west.
Suddenly from the ranks of bystanders a women, Veronica, breaks away running towards Jesus a piece of wet cloth in her hands. With not even a glance towards the soldiers or consideration of her own safety she sought to alleviate his suffering by gently wiping his face.
Jesus felt the comfort of the cloth and opened his eyes able to see her without the blood and sweat trickling down his face. She was crying as she gazed upon this man she recalled sitting under a tree to hear his words. She wanted to reach out and to hug him but the soldiers roughly pushed her back, they had had enough of these soft scenes.
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