This is Claude Vignon's painting: Two Angels Presenting the Holy Face. The story of Veronica wiping the face of Jesus along the Calvary way is not found in the gospels. It sounds as if it could though, along with Simon helping Jesus carry the cross and the women of Jerusalem weeping for Jesus, and the myrrh-bearers returning to the tomb on Sunday morning.
Here, two angels hold the towel or veil Veronica offered. Vignon's depiction is different though in that he shows the face of Jesus very awake and alive, looking heavenward. Maybe Vignon was inspired by this verse from the Letter to the Hebrews:
In the days of his flesh, Jesus offered up prayers and supplications, with loud cries and tears to him who was able to save him from death, and he was heard for his godly fear. Hebrews 5:7
Another translation says, "in the days of his frailty..." I like that word choice better because it suggests that in Christ, God has joined us utterly in our vulnerability and weakness. The word frailty leads me to believe that Jesus offered cries and tears for every suffering face on this planet. At Gethsemane and Calvary, Jesus saw all of human suffering throughout history, and instead of changing the channel (as we do) he offered up cries and tears from his all-knowing and feeling heart.
But there is more. The painting reveals deep shadow and light. Look closely! The splendid angels are threaded with golden light and their wings are iridescent. Their brightness invades and dispels the deep shadow around them.
Shadow is a personal word too. One Christian blogger who is not afraid of psychology says: "Everything our mind will not allow into the light, for various reasons, ends up in the shadow, where it has an impact on us beyond our normal awareness."
Lent is ending now: the springtime, yearning for the light. Light will shine into the darkness on Holy Saturday night. And these days, the sun is pushing back the winter's darkness. Shadow is my forbidden self - my "don't even go there" self. The prophet Isaiah calls it my "land of darkness," or "land of gloom." (9:2)
These angels are lifting up Veronica's towel (Veronica = true image). Maybe during these last Lenten hours I can lift up my own untouched, unturned self, something of my shadow: the comparing, the competing, the judging, the anger, the regrets, the worrying, the blaming, the guilt, the fear. Consciously lift it up into the light. Then I will be free. Be encouraged!
