Station VI
Asterix and Red Scripture denotes station in conversation with art piece.
Catholic *
Veronica Wipes the Face of Jesus.
The story of Veronica is not found in Scripture but in Christian tradition. The writings of Eusebius of Caesarea and an extra-biblical book, “The Acts of Pilate,” link Veronica to the woman of issues of blood that was healed by Jesus (Mark 5:25-34, Matthew 9:20-22, Luke 8:43-48). Tradition believes that Veronica became a disciple of Christ and offered a cloth, possibly her head cloth, to Jesus as he carried the cross to wipe the blood, sweat, and dust from his face. An imprint of his face remained on the fabric, dubbed “Veronica’s Veil.” Believed to have healing properties, Veronica brought the clothe to Rome when Emperor Tiberius fell ill. She remained in Rome until her death, when the clothe was bestowed upon Pope Clement. Later, Pope Urban VIII placed the veil in an upper chapel of St. Peter’s Church, where it remains today. Her name is also a play on the latin Vero (true) + Greek Icon (image) =Veronica (true image).
3 He was despised and rejected by others; a man of suffering and acquainted with infirmity, and as one from whom others hide their faces he was despised, and we held him of no account. 4 Surely he has borne our infirmities and carried our diseases, yet we accounted him stricken, struck down by God, and afflicted. 5 But he was wounded for our transgressions, crushed for our iniquities; upon him was the punishment that made us whole, and by his bruises we are healed. 6 All we like sheep have gone astray; we have all turned to our own way, and the Lord has laid on him the iniquity of us all. 7 He was oppressed, and he was afflicted, yet he did not open his mouth; like a lamb that is led to the slaughter and like a sheep that before its shearers is silent, so he did not open his mouth. 8 By a perversion of justice he was taken away. Who could have imagined his future? For he was cut off from the land of the living, stricken for the transgression of my people. 9 They made his grave with the wicked and his tomb with the rich, although he had done no violence, and there was no deceit in his mouth.
Isaiah 53:3-9
Methodist
Jesus is Mocked and Crowned with Thorns.
16 Then the soldiers led him into the courtyard of the palace (that is, the governor’s headquarters), and they called together the whole cohort. 17 And they clothed him in a purple cloak, and after twisting some thorns into a crown they put it on him. 18 And they began saluting him, “Hail, King of the Jews!” 19 They struck his head with a reed, spat upon him, and knelt down in homage to him. 20 After mocking him, they stripped him of the purple cloak and put his own clothes on him. Then they led him out to crucify him.
Mark 15:16-20
Artist: Desirée Adams
Artist Statement
Medium: I did not want to write a monologue, “act” a script, or share a story as I would onstage or from a pulpit. I wanted to move, but not to music. From that desire this piece was born. A trinity of separate yet inseparable elements of storytelling, spoken word, and movement.
Why this station: Women hold a special place in the Stations of the Cross and, as in Scripture, they are often mentioned but rarely named. Yet here is Veronica, the only named woman in the stations and the only woman mentioned specifically who is not named in Scripture. Her story is told through the tradition - remembering our spiritual ancestors and their faithful witness to Christ. Her story is of a living, breathing person whose life was transformed by her encounter with the physical, living, breathing Jesus. Veronica reminds us that all followers, even those not mentioned in Scripture, are an essential a part of the story. Our stories are not myths or fables or lies, they are the expansion of the recordings of the New Testament, which cannot confine the risen Christ. In the absence of a physical Jesus, it is our faces which present His image.
What I learned: This started with a story in which I was Veronica. Veronica flips the script - assuming the role of savior in her extension of compassion to the suffering and restoration of dignity to the disgraced. Yet, as I tried to remember the details of this very real moment in my past, another story kept interrupting my thoughts. A similar story but one in which I was the recipient, not the extender, of compassion. I was Christ the sufferer, not the savior. The one that threatened to disrupt the crowd, who was weak and disgraced. The nagging interruption of this story, forced the realization that both must be told together. I embraced more deeply the idea of the Imago Dei, the image of God in which all humans are created as a paradox held together by Christ. When we act out of compassion, reclaiming our humanity, we reveal not only the image of Christ in ourselves, but the recognition of the image of Christ in the individuals and moments in our own lives that are the most vulnerable. The dirty, despised, and deplorable. The weak, woeful, and worn-out. The laughing stock, marginalized, and lamentable. It is our humanity that reclaims the image of God in ourselves, but it is the image of the suffering Christ that most clearly reveals His adoption and understanding of our humanity.