By Guest Writer Suzan Sammons
What comes to mind when you hear “Lenten devotions?” If you’re like most Catholics, your mind’s eye
sees a priest leading candle-bearing altar boys along the side aisles of a church where the faithful have
gathered in the pews to ponder Christ’s passion. We adore you, O Christ, and we praise you!
Perhaps you have had the privilege of walking the Via Dolorosa in Jerusalem. Or maybe you’ve seen in
Europe some of the oldest imitations of it that sprang up in the Middle Ages for those who could not
journey to the Holy City.
Picturing oneself as one of the crowd on the road to Calvary, reflecting on the suffering of Our
Lord…This is a devotional exercise Catholics in every age of the Church have loved. Today, the Stations
of the Cross are the most widely practiced Lenten devotion. A rich treasury of writings from the Saints
and Fathers of the Church can help us dive more deeply into this tradition, and it was that treasury that
led me to a unique insight on the Stations from St. John Henry Newman.
It was his belief that when Our Lady met Our Lord along the Way of the Cross, she did what any mother
would do when seeing her child suffer in a way she could not “fix.” She prayed that help would come to
him. And what happens when Our Lady prays? Usually, big things!
Immediately following the fourth station, in which Our Lord meets Mary, Simon is recruited to help
Jesus carry his Cross. Next, we will see Veronica approaching Our Lord with a gesture of mercy. It’s no
coincidence that these stations follow right after the one in which Christ comes upon his mother. But
there’s even more.
St. John Henry Newman wrote, “The relief which a Mother's tenderness secured is not yet all she did.
Her prayers sent Veronica as well as Simon—Simon to do a man's work, Veronica to do the part of a
woman.” The help Our Lord receives from the man Simon and the woman Veronica are unique
expressions of their creation in God’s image as man and woman.
At the Fall, men were warned that now, they must rely on their physical strength to sustain their lives.
They would work, in some way – and work would now be a burden. But every burden can also be a
means of salvation.
Think about Simon. Perhaps he had no interest at all in the man dragging his cross to Golgotha. Perhaps
he was just trying to get around the confusion and go on his way. But the soldiers noticed him. He
probably looked strong and healthy – just the type of man they needed to bear the weight of the cross
for a while so that their “guilty” man would not die on the way to his execution.
Simon was “compelled” to do the work of carrying the cross, as St. Matthew records (Mt 27:32), just as
Adam was compelled to work after the fall. “Cursed is the ground because of you…In the sweat of your
face you shall eat bread” (see Gen. 3:17-19). That man is forced to work may lead us to question how
work can be redeeming. Simon shows us how: although he had no choice but to carry the cross, he did
choose his interior response.
Once he looked on the suffering of Jesus – once he really looked – did his heart reject what he saw and
feel ashamed? Or did love stir within him? Did he accept, out of human kindness, the work he was called
to do by the soldiers?
The Fathers of the Church answered “Yes.” They concluded that Simon of Cyrene became a Christian,
based on Mark 15:21 which mentions his sons. It seems unlikely that the Christian community would
have known the foreigner Simon’s sons if he had not become Christian.
Like Adam, Simon was compelled to work. But through that work he came to see, to know, to
experience who Our Lord is. This is the call for every Christian, but particularly for men. Let your work be
changed from curse to sanctification. Use the quiet strength of your body to help those who need you.
And through these acts, meet the Lord on the Way.
Just as Simon’s help for Our Lord is dependent on his physical strength as a man, Veronica’s help for Our
Lord draws on her interior strength as a woman. Imagine the angry crowd, the abusive soldiers, and the
volatile situation on the path to Calvary. Yet, someone is suffering, and from that fact – not from any
physical strength – Veronica takes courage. It is love that makes her brave, not self-confidence. Blinking
away her own tears of compassion, she offers a clean cloth to a suffering face.
Women were cursed at the fall with pain in childbearing. We think of this first as physical pain, but we
know too that mothers endure a particular kind of pain because of their capacity for love and
compassion. One who loves deeply is also deeply vulnerable. This is why Veronica’s motherly service to
Our Lord is a model uniquely suited to women. In Veronica we see the particularly feminine power to be
quietly present in a difficult situation and to simply, graciously, lend a hand.
Did Veronica think that cleaning the face of the Lord would take away a great share of his pain? Surely
not. What she did was small. It was not enough – just as the five loaves and two fish were not enough to
feed the multitude (Mt. 14:17). But God always transforms our “not enough.” For Veronica he showed
this in the gift he left: the image of his face bloodied by the work of our Redemption. Veronica’s “little”
act of love procured for all time evidence of the greatest act of love possible.
Women, offer up all your acts of love, small though they may be, to console the heart of Our Lord. He
will gladly receive your generosity and compassion, transforming your works into more than you can
imagine.
Though they have many burdens in common, men and women often bear their share of the Cross in
different ways. For all of them, Our Lady intercedes.
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Adapted from The Stations of the Cross in Slow Motion: A Lenten Devotion for the Home, Sophia Institute Press, January 2024.
Author Bio – Suzan Sammons
Suzan Sammons is the author of The Jesse Tree: An Advent Devotion and The Stations of the Cross in
Slow Motion: A Lenten Devotion for the Home (Sophia Institute Press, January 2024). She has published numerous articles in Catholic outlets on topics including child-rearing and education, the dignity of the
unborn, holistic health, and Catholic spirituality. She is the mother of seven children and young adults.
