Did I ever tell you about the time I bought a homeless man lunch at McDonald’s? His name was Robert. And he cried when I called him “Sir.” That was over ten years ago, and to this very day, I wonder how Robert is doing.
I’ve lived in both Los Angeles and New York City, so encountering the homeless was as likely to happen as my purchasing an overpriced latte. Very likely. But I have to admit that until I had grown children of my own, while I always had compassion, I felt very little sting. Where I used to throw them a quarter or two, now I dig deeper, looking for the larger bill, giving them more. I see their worn faces and vacant eyes and wonder, what is your story? What happened to you? People have told me not to bother with the hand out—"They are just going to buy drugs or alcohol. You are not helping them.” And maybe that is true. But I can’t help it. I dig into my pockets, and I give them the handout. Because every time I drive by a person begging on a street corner, I not only see him, I see his mother.
He has a mother.
And that kills me.
I’ve spent some time today praying with the Sixth Station of the Cross: The Veil of Veronica. Veronica quietly approaches Jesus as He walks the path toward Calvary, and very courageously and lovingly uses her veil to wipe the blood and sweat from His face. I can only imagine what the crowds were thinking. What is she doing? Is she crazy? It was a bold move. And while not recorded in the Bible, here we are during Lent, thousands of years later, meditating on this wordless act of love. And Veronica? Well, as the story goes, Jesus blesses her by leaving an image of His face on her veil.
Have you ever watched your child or a loved one carry a heavy cross? Have you ever stood by and watched them repeatedly fall beneath its weight, wanting so badly to step in and carry it for them? It is a helpless feeling, isn’t it? We want to be the ones who save them, don’t we? We so badly want to remove their pain. And I don’t know about you, but this has been the hardest part of motherhood. We watch and weep, while praying to God that our presence and tears are enough.
But then there is Veronica. And she puts a whole new spin on the way of the cross. Because I picture our Lady watching her Son from a distance, and witnessing this young, holy woman take care of her Son when she could not. Of course, she could have stepped in. But God’s will for Mary was not for her to step in and save her Son from the cross. Quite the opposite. God’s will for Mary was that she accompany Jesus to the cross, and participate in His crucifixion as only the Mother of God can. This was the culminating moment that began with Mary’s “yes,” and “yes” she would say right up to the foot of the cross. What gratitude our Lady must have felt then in that moment as Veronica stepped out of the crowd and carefully wiped clean the face of her Son; a face she must have cleaned herself many times when He was young. I imagine Mother Mary looking on, watching and weeping over the compassion Veronica so lovingly offered Jesus.
This is why I can’t drive by the homeless without thinking of their mothers. And I wish I had something really powerful to close this with. Some sort of theological statement that knocks your socks off. But honestly? All that I have today is a mother’s heart. A heart that is so grateful for the Veronicas in my own children’s lives. The Veronicas in all of our lives. The unrecorded moments and wordless acts of charity that step into our loved ones' paths as they walk toward their own Calvary, helping them along the way when we cannot.
If you are among the watching and weeping, know this, my friend. Mother Mary watches and weeps with you. God has a Veronica for you. Your presence and tears are enough.
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