Jesus’ Physical Experience of His Passion — Part 1: Sight

03-09-2025Weekly ReflectionJen Arnold, M.A.

For this year's Lenten reflection series, we will contemplate what Jesus might have experienced during his Passion, from the Last Supper through his crucifixion, focusing on each of his five senses — sight, hearing, taste, smell, and touch.

Prior to the Incarnation, God did not have a physical body with which to experience the senses in a way that's unique to humans. Our senses help to inform us of our surroundings, provide information, and help us to make decisions. Through each of our senses, we experience the pleasures and comforts God's creation offers us. Additionally, unlike animals, who respond to stimuli based on instinct, our senses can often be a source of temptation and sin when we let them overpower our reason and will. Further, each of our senses can be a source of suffering for us if they are aggravated or irritated. When one of our senses is compromised, others are heightened to compensate for the loss.

God's divine supernatural senses far transcend our human senses. He has no eyes yet can see infinitely more than we can. He has no ears but can hear the angels singing his praises. For the omnipotent God to take on the human experience in its fullness is extraordinary and worthy of exploration. Just as we experience pleasure and suffering through our senses, so did God in the person of Jesus Christ. So, each week, we will attempt to understand what Jesus experienced as he endured his Passion, by focusing on one of each of his senses, beginning with sight.

As Jesus gathers with his disciples in the upper room for the Last Supper, his eyes would have taken in the many familiar faces of the friends who faithfully followed him for the last three years, sharing in his ministry, listening to him teach, and watching him perform miracles. These faces are a source of comfort to him. As the flickering light of oil lamps creates a warm glow in the room, the expressions on his friends' faces are illuminated, and their ignorance of what is about to happen is revealed. Jesus' gaze might have lingered on Judas' face as he looked around the table, his heart breaking at the betrayal that would lead to his death. Jesus might have seen hesitation and confusion in the faces of his disciples at the Last Supper as he washes their feet, foretells his death, and institutes the Eucharist.

After supper, Jesus walks with Peter, James, and John to the Garden of Gethsemane in the fading light of the evening. Jesus had prayed in this garden often, yet its familiarity is of no comfort to him tonight. The olive trees, casting long shadows in the moonlight, might have been still in the cool air, contrasting with the turmoil in Jesus' heart. The darkness enveloping Jesus in the garden might have reminded him of the darkness of human sin, for which he was about to die. He would have seen his beloved friends struggling to stay awake in his most desperate hour, increasing his feelings of isolation. In agony, Jesus looks up to the heavens and cries out to his Father to "let this cup pass" from him but sees nothing but the stars in the black sky. Then, in the distance, he sees the torchlights approaching, signaling the arrival of Judas and the soldiers. When Jesus locks eyes with Judas after being betrayed with a kiss, he is overcome with both sorrow and resolution. The time has come.

After his arrest, Jesus is taken to the high priest's house and brought before the Roman governor, Pontius Pilate. The sense of sight here would have been full of disorienting images: the crowded streets, the aggressive faces of his accusers, the angry crowd calling for his crucifixion. The faces of those who had once admired his miracles and teachings were now contorted with disdain and hatred. As false testimony against Jesus is presented, the indecision shows on Pontius Pilate's face despite recognizing his innocence. Jesus watches Pilate wash his hands, symbolically absolving himself of the responsibility of Jesus' death. Oh, the injustice! From the courtyard of Pilate's palace, Jesus sees the morning approach. As the sun rises, it casts light onto his beaten, bloody, and swollen body — his humiliation now illuminated for all to see.

As if being sentenced to a particularly cruel death isn't enough, Jesus must then watch his captors mock him. He watches as their cruel, twisted faces spit at him. He sees them twist and braid thorns together into the shape of a crown, which they would then cruelly place on his head. The visions of this mockery starkly contrast with the love and admiration that Jesus had largely been shown for most of his life. In the courtyard, Jesus might have caught a glimpse of Peter, watching as his disciple denied him three times. The look of shame and regret on Peter's face as the rooster crowed would have been a poignant reminder of human frailty and an image that would be hard to forget.

Jesus is led away by the soldiers to his fate. In front of him, he sees the big, heavy wooden cross he will be forced to carry on the path to Golgotha. The sight of it alone is unbearable. The cross is brutally placed on his shoulder, and as he looks ahead, he sees the rough and uneven path he will somehow have to find the strength to navigate. The crowds lining the Via Dolorosa are more mixed than the night before. There are still some of the jeering and mocking faces of those who are enjoying Jesus' humiliation. However, today, compassionate faces in the crowd reveal their helplessness at the injustice before them. Jesus sees Veronica as she approaches with a cloth to kindly wipe the blood and sweat from his face. He also sees the face of his beloved mother, who accompanies him on this tortuous journey. The sight of her presence brings him the only source of comfort possible. When it is no longer physically possible to carry his cross, he sees Simon of Cyrene being pulled from the crowd to help him carry it, a kindness amidst the cruelty.

Reaching Calvary, Jesus sees the Roman soldiers preparing for the crucifixions of the condemned men. The wooden and splintered beams are laid on the earth his Father created. The nails are carelessly tossed nearby as the soldiers casually talk like it is just another day. The crowd has followed them all the way here, some jeering, some weeping. As the nails are driven into his hands and feet, Jesus' sight might have blurred with pain, along with the sweat from the exertion. Once raised on the cross, his perspective would have changed dramatically. From this elevated position, he would have looked out over Jerusalem, the city he loved, now seemingly indifferent to his suffering. At the foot of the cross, he would have seen his mother, Mary, and his beloved disciple, John, and the other faithful women, their faces stricken with grief. The sky darkened for three hours, but he could also see beyond his physical sight. His divine nature allowed him to see the promise of redemption that his suffering and sacrifice would bring. Where his eyes saw sin, his heart saw compassion and love. Then, as death approached and his suffering finally came to an end, Jesus closed his eyes and saw nothing more.

This week, meditate on the events of the Passion through the sense of sight, tuning out the other senses. You can do it from the perspectives of both Jesus and an outsider. What feelings, thoughts, pains, or concerns do the sights stir up in your heart? Then, contemplate the areas in your life where your sight causes you temptations and sin. Identify strategies to train your sight to lead you to virtue instead. One suggestion is to spend more time in adoration, fixing your eyes on the Eucharistic Lord. As the Venerable Fulton Sheen said, "We become like that which we gaze upon."