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Station 6 - Veronica Wipes the Face of Jesus

Updated: Mar 9

Artwork by David Dillon, soft pastel on 12" x 16" sanded paper

Poem by Sandy Widstrom


Welcome to the website for Centennial Covenant Church’s podcast Centered. This podcast was created by Karl Helvig, David Dillon, and Kaley Rodda, with the help of many other wonderful people. The content below is a guide for the prayer practice known as The Stations of the Cross, and this website was designed particularly with our friends in the D/HH community in mind. You can use it on its own without the audio podcast, or you can use the website while listening to the podcast to create a more immersive experience. The content here is exactly the same as that on the audio podcast. In other words, this website and the podcast can function either independently or together.


This episode is another one of these interesting episodes where this Station of the Cross does not come from a specific place in scripture. Technically speaking, we don’t know for sure whether or not this moment actually happened. However, we want to help you understand a little bit about why this story has become one of the Stations of the Cross.


This station, number six, is Veronica wipes the face of Jesus. We don’t know exactly who Veronica is, or whether she actually came up with a cloth and wiped the blood or sweat off of Jesus’ face. What we do know is that Jesus has been condemned, and he’s now carrying his giant, heavy wooden cross a long distance through the crowded city of Jerusalem - an excruciating experience. There are people in the crowd - as we’ll see next week - who are mocking and scorning Jesus, making this a humiliating experience. And yet, there must have been people in the crowd who, on the contrary, felt great compassion for Jesus. Who were moved with hurt and pity and sadness at what they saw. So the story of Veronica comes from that assumption - some people in the crowd would have seen Jesus and been heartbroken. Somebody in the crowd would have thought to themselves “what can I do?”


Take a moment to take a deep breath.


Prepare your mind and your body to take in this story.


Take another breath.


Once again we are reading from Tony Jones’ book The Sacred Way:


As Jesus walks this sorrowful journey, the blood that drips from the crown of thorns on his head mixes with the spit of those who mock him. Out of the crowd comes a compassionate friend, Veronica, who wipes the spit, blood, and sweat from his face. Only for a moment, Jesus feels some relief.


When you are ready, school down to the artwork.





As you reflect on the artwork (take your time with each question):


  • Where are your eyes drawn to? What are you taking notice of?


  • What emotions are you experiencing? Are you noticing that you feel depth, empathy? What is bringing those emotions to your body?


  • Is there a specific word or phrase that is implanting itself in your mind when you look at the image? Why is that word or phrase coming to mind?



Now read the story one more time. See if you can picture the image coming alive, as you read these words:


As Jesus walks this sorrowful journey, the blood that drips from the crown of thorns on his head mixes with the spit of those who mock him. Out of the crowd comes a compassionate friend, Veronica, who wipes the spit, blood, and sweat from his face. Only for a moment, Jesus feels some relief.




Our written response today is from Centennial Covenant member Sandy Widstrom:


See You, See Me

Sandy Widstrom, 2021

I hurried toward the crowd,

anxious to see you.

You, my last hope.

Would you see me?

I reached out,

barely touching the tattered hem

of your robe.

And you stopped.

“Who touched me?” you said, “Someone touched me;

I know power has gone out from me.”

Trembling, I fell at your feet.

“It is me, Jesus. I have been sick for so long.”

“Daughter, your faith has healed you.

Go in peace.”

Today I race toward another crowd,

to see you one more time.

Sobbing with the others

I see you stagger along the cobblestones.

I reach out,

gently wiping the sweat and blood

from your face.

“It is me, Jesus, your Daughter.”



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