I lost a friend during a night at the Stations of the Cross!
A personal narrative
A Reflection on Veronica and the Stations of the Cross
A few years ago, during the season of Lent, I invited a friendly associate whom I worked with, to join me for an evening "Stations of the Cross" at my parish church. It was a beautiful and solemn tradition, one that I continue to look forward to each year. The prayers and meditations help me to contemplate the events leading to the Crucifixion and Resurrection of Christ in a deeply personal way. That night, as the congregation moved from station to station, I felt the usual stirring in my soul—gratitude, sorrow, and awe at the depth of Christ's love.
What I didn’t realize until a few days later was that my friendly associate, who was Protestant, was deeply offended by one of the stations. Specifically, he took issue with the meditation on Veronica wiping the face of Jesus. He told me he felt scandalized, even insulted, because he had never encountered Veronica in Sacred Scripture. To him, the station seemed to add something that wasn’t there, which he viewed as a form of sacrilege.
I was stunned. In my mind, the Stations of the Cross had always been an invitation to meditate on Christ’s Passion, a practice that draws heavily from Scripture but also includes elements of tradition and devotion. I tried to explain this to him, emphasizing that the meditations are not intended to rewrite or add to Scripture but to help believers reflect more deeply on the mystery of Christ’s love.
The station representing Veronica wiping the face of Jesus carries profound spiritual significance. While the Gospels do not explicitly name Veronica, Luke 23:27-31 describes a group of women who followed Jesus, weeping for Him in His suffering. It is entirely plausible that among them was someone who showed Him an act of mercy by wiping His face. Though Scripture does not record this specific moment, it does describe the brutal treatment Jesus endured. In Mark 14:65, we read that He was struck and spit upon, and Matthew 26:67 recounts how He was slapped and mocked. Given the state of His suffering, it is reasonable to imagine that an onlooker—moved by compassion—might have attempted to offer some small relief … and compassion is most certainly found in the Bible!
The name "Veronica," from the Latin words Vera Icon meaning "true image," was assigned in later tradition as a way to symbolize the act of love and charity this unnamed woman showed. The name is not about historical precision but about conveying a truth—an image of compassion, courage, and devotion in the face of unimaginable suffering.
I tried to share with my friend that the purpose of the Stations of the Cross is not to provide a strict exegesis of Scripture but to help us imagine the scenes of Christ’s Passion, to see ourselves in the story. Could I have been among the crowd, indifferent to His suffering? Or would I have been moved, like Veronica, to do something—anything—to offer Him relief?
Yet, my explanation did not seem to help. My friend remained steadfast in his discomfort. I left the conversation feeling disheartened, but over time, I came to see the experience as a reminder of how differently we approach faith and tradition.
Why, I wondered, be so insulted by the idea of a woman showing compassion to our Lord during His Passion? The act itself—a simple, human gesture of wiping His face—seems to resonate with the very heart of the Gospel: love in action. Whether or not the woman’s name was Veronica, the meditation represents a truth worth contemplating.
The Stations of the Cross are an invitation to immerse ourselves in the story of Christ's Passion. They are filled with Scripture and yet are more than Scripture; they are a bridge to help us enter the narrative and walk with Christ in His suffering. If we can approach them with an open heart, they can deepen our understanding of His sacrifice and transform our own lives.
Looking back, I pray that my friend has found peace in the memory of that evening. Perhaps one day, the beauty of the Vera Icon—a true image of love—will shine through the barriers of misunderstanding. After all, the story of Christ’s Passion is ultimately about reconciliation, and that is a hope I carry forward.