By Sister Regina Marie, C.K.
One of our community practices is to pray the stations of the cross daily. As a postulant nearly 20 years ago, I vividly remember learning more about this tradition and that the purpose of it is to help us deepen in our relationship and compassion for Jesus, our Crucified Spouse. The day I began praying them on my own happened to be the feast of the Exaltation of the Cross.
I remember being excited to begin praying the stations myself after seeing my Sisters walk the way of the cross with Jesus, day after day. At first, there was a lot of energy and desire in my heart to walk alongside Jesus as He was falsely accused and beaten, as He fell multiple times and was helped by Simon and Veronica along the way and as He was nailed to the cross and died.
However, like many things in life, praying the stations eventually started to become part of my routine and therefore sometimes was done more out of habit, rather than prayerfully and out of love.
Noticing this, I have made it a point at different times in my religious life to choose a particular station and spend extra time there, allowing myself to enter into it imaginatively. I sometimes put myself in the place of one of the characters, so as to see Jesus in His suffering in a more relational and “real” way.
One of my favorite characters to stand with and consider is Veronica. For me, she encapsulates the compassion, generosity and courage that I desire to have with and for our Lord. I imagine what would have been in her heart as she, a lowly Jewish woman, pushed through a crowd of angry fellow Jews and cruel Roman soldiers. At times, I pause at that moment right after Veronica wipes Jesus’ face and take in how He would have looked at her and the gratitude and love He would have shown her.
Over the past year or so, my experience of entering into the sixth station has shifted a bit in a way I did not expect, and has challenged me greatly. I have sensed Jesus asking me to take His place instead, to be the one whose face is being wiped, and the one to whom love is shown. Admittedly, I have pushed away from this because, for me, it is much more comfortable to be the one who helps than the one who is helped.
However, about 18 months ago I needed to have Achilles tendon surgery, which unfortunately led to more pain after the expected recovery time had passed. Shortly after that, a second opinion confirmed what I was afraid of – the only way to relieve the pain was a second surgery. This experience put me in a position where I literally could not help others, and in which I was not just being invited to allow others to help me, but where I was actually dependent on their help.
To say that it was challenging to receive the love shown to me through helping me get places, carrying my things, bringing me ice packs and a myriad of other tasks would be a major understatement. (Ask any of my fellow Sisters, my colleagues at school or my family members and they would most likely smile sheepishly and agree with me on that!) Suddenly, the courage I had admired in Veronica became the virtue I needed to grow in to allow others to be a kind of “Veronica” to me. I had fully taken in the message our world promotes – that strength lies in being self-sufficient, fast and efficient.
It was shortly after my second surgery when I read these words in the book “My Beloved is Mine and I am His” by Mother Mary Francis, PC: “The community needs not only your strength, your virtue or your talents, which are peripheral, but it especially needs your weakness. It especially needs your faults. Perhaps this seems a surprising thought! Yet for any true love to exist there must be a need of one another… How shall your Sisters love you if you only show that you are perfect and have no need of help?”
Her insight here was startling and piercing! Even though it is written to religious Sisters about living in community, it can easily be applied to families, friendships and our relationship with God. Imagine if, when Veronica approached Jesus, He shrugged and told her, “No thanks, I’m fine!” Her love would have been blocked, and an opportunity would have been missed. The disposition of Jesus toward Veronica, His openness to allow someone to help Him, is not at all where I imagined my reflections would go when I decided to spend time with her while praying stations, but what her actions have led me to learn about Jesus has been a gift. As we journey through this Lenten season, perhaps we can each walk alongside Jesus in His suffering and crucifixion, asking Him to open our eyes to the newness of His gifts.
