Sitting during Mass this evening, I was listening to the Readings, and then Deacon Tim's homily and got to thinking about a lot. Sometimes my thoughts come at me like drinking from a fire hydrant. Other times, it's barely trickle of anything out of a frozen tap.
Tonight, I want to share with you something that came to me, and I would love your honest opinion. It's my hope that this draws you ever-nearer to our Sweet, Beloved Lord and what He has done for us.
They took You away, my Beloved! They screamed at You, hit You, accused You of things You would never conceive of doing. Their own blasphemies and injustices, they hurled at You, heaping them on You like heavy stones. Each accusation weighing Your Most Sacred Heart down lower and lower with each ugly word. Each painful blow. Then, they put You in a dark, cold, damp cave and left You there by Yourself. You had no one, my Beloved, no one there with You to comfort You in Your pain, Your sorrow.
How lonely and cold You must have felt that night! How isolated and afraid! You turned to the Father and poured Your Heart out to Him, not just for Yourself, but for all of us, Your precious children You had come for. Your friends had abandoned You, but St Peter had followed at a distance. If he was so far away from you in his heart, why did he follow You even still? Was it because deep down, he knew he had to be able to tell the others where You were being taken? Was it out of a profound remorse for denying You, he wanted to try to find You to make it right again?
Peter’s actions in the Passion Story, my Love, his distance from You, it’s clear that it’s an indication and representation that that’s our own distance from You, as well. We say we love You with our words, but our actions scream otherwise. Then, in a moment of remorse, we return, but we hesitate at the door You left open for us to enter in to be with You. Why do we hang back, Beloved Lord? What is so intimidating about love, about grace? About peace? About forgiveness?
What is it that makes us so angry? It is the indignance of surrender, the frustration of losing control. We claim we don’t know what’s in store for us when we surrender to You, but in fact it’s the opposite. When we surrender, when we give everything to You, we are allowing ourselves to just be with You, to let You come embrace us and keep us safe. The safest we’ll ever be. Why don’t we want that, Lord?! Because we don’t want the Helping Hand. You paid the ultimate price to show us Your love and Your concern for our well-being. Your Sacrifice should’ve been enough, and yet it isn’t, is it, Lord? It never seems to be ‘enough.’ We always want more, more, more. But, how much more dare we ask of You, You who gave Your very Life for us!
What was it You did, my Gentle Lord, to make us such an angry group of children to hate You so much?! To reject you so easily?!
My Sweet, Gentle, Kind Lord… I am so sorry for all that I have done to break Your Precious and Most Sacred Heart. Please help me to be better, to be a good witness of what You have done for me, and to be thankful in all my experiences for what You have given me.
Te iubesc, Jesu. Te iubesc.