Sixth Station

A pious woman wipes the face of Jesus

Sixth Station : A pious woman wipes the face of Jesus

“As many were astonished at him-his appearance was so marred, beyond human semblance, and his form beyond that of the sons of men-so shall he startle many nations; kings shall shut their mouths because of him; for that which has not been told them they shall see, and that which they have not heard they shall understand… He had no form of comeliness that we should look at him, and no beauty that we should desire him. He was despised and rejected by men; a man of sorrows, and acquainted with grief; and as one from whom men hide their faces he was despised, and we esteemed him not.” (Is 52, 14-15 and 53, 2-4)

“Upon my bed at night I sought him whom my soul loves; I sought him but found him not; I called him, but he gave no answer. The watchmen found me, as they went about in the city: “Have you seen him whom my soul loves?” Scarcely had I passed them, when I found him whom my soul loves.” (Ct 3, 1-4)


O Lord how disfigured you have become! The blows have swollen your beautiful face. Yet, even though under all the sweat, and blood, your visage is no longer human, you retain your beauty. The spittle, and deep darkness have not clouded the profound majesty of your regard. Your beauty is apparent to me despite all that has taken place, and in this regal, and sublime countenance, there is your gaze O Lord!

The guards reassembling around the chief priests were themselves awe-struck: “Never has any man spoken as he has!” and never again will any creature be looked upon with such depth, such gentleness, and such awesome beauty.

How can it be Lord that your face, as bright as the sun on Tabor on the day of your Transfiguration, is so ill-treated? You respond that you are fulfilling Isaiah's prophecy “crowds were moved at the sight of me, so disfugured was my face…”

Jesus responds: “But all of that is nothing as compared with the havoc wreaked in a soul by sin ; a soul yet created in my image. By thus being made like unto sin itself I impart to all souls the pulkhritude of my aspect. More definitely than on Veronica's shroud, I engrave on a soul my very features. This image will dwell forever on he hearts of all who desire to wipe away the tears from my eyes, and the eyes of all my weeping children.


Lord Jesus,
may the children of this world look upon your face.
Let not the insults, and affronts aimed at you from the unGodly influences around them keep them from loving you. Lord sign my soul with the seal of your face!

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