Quiet Heavens

While I don't necessarily see the Gospel of Judas, a gnostic text, as having 'literally' happened (which could be argued for the entirety of the gospels, so, ya know, grain of salt), the idea of Judas being hand picked by Jesus to betray him has always sat deeply with me.

'Veronica Wipes The Face of Jesus', by Florentin Houzé, currently located in Notre Dame du Finistere

In honor of Jesus Death Day, I want to show off my favortie painting of Saint Veronica wiping Jesus' face with her veil, and to talk on one of my favorite female Church legends.

I've always assumed that when Veronica stepped out of the crowd that lined the road to Calvary to wipe Jesus' face with her veil, she did so with the knowledge of the danger she had just put herself in. The man before her was being led to his execution by the Roman state after hours of public torture, and they were still surrounded by a crowd screaming for his death. I assume stepping forward to give Jesus relief, even something as small as to wipe the blood from his eyes, was not a decision made lightly. The crowd around her had been whipped into a frenzy over the hours of Jesus' suffering, the energy of the crowd reflecting back onto itself like a deadly self propelled machine. She was only wiping a man clean of his own blood, and yet she had no guarantee that the small kindness would not lead to her own suffering.

And, still, she did it. I don't know if she was frightened, or angry, or determined; what matters is that she did it. She stepped out of the crowd and provided the smallest of comforts to a dying man.

In this day and age, we are all hyper aware of the consequences of standing up for what is right and humane. for some of us, the consequence is job loss or imprisonment, social and legal retaliation. for others, it is the loss of limb or life, or their family being targeted. Regardless if you are testifying before political officials, providing for your community, documenting injustice, or placing yourself beside those targeted by state violence, war, and genocide, the potential for dangerous consequence's remains. I don't want more death, or more martyrs. Much more can be accomplished by living bodies than dead ones. But, even with that in mind, the call to be a Veronica, to step out from the screaming crowd into the violence of the road to Calvary and raise your veil, is a Christlike one. Wiping the face of the suffering, even if it means stepping into the spotlight of those whose eyes are clouded with hate, is required of us by God-- all of us.

" And the king will answer them, ‘Truly I tell you, just as you did it to one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did it to me.’ Then he will say to those at his left hand, ‘You who are accursed, depart from me into the eternal fire prepared for the devil and his angels, for I was hungry and you gave me no food, I was thirsty and you gave me nothing to drink, I was a stranger and you did not welcome me, naked and you did not give me clothing, sick and in prison and you did not visit me.’ Then they also will answer, ‘Lord, when was it that we saw you hungry or thirsty or a stranger or naked or sick or in prison and did not take care of you?’ Then he will answer them, ‘Truly I tell you, just as you did not do it to one of the least of these, you did not do it to me.’ And these will go away into eternal punishment but the righteous into eternal life.” (Matthew 25: 40-46, NSRVUE)

But I think it's a disservice to who AA Michael is and who he represents. He is blood and spit and dirt. He stumbles when he stands up after being hit. Like that one quote about hope, he has dirt on his face and blood on his knuckles.

Yes, he’s celestial. And yes, he’s beautiful and otherworldly. But he’s also a soldier. A defender. Someone who stands their ground despite all else telling them it’s not worth it. His joints ache and his hair gets scruffed and he is fierce.

All this and he can still be elegant and heavenly and divine; because he is.