Monday, February 23, 2015

I was wounded in the house of them that loved Me

Leaving aside for the moment considerations relative to great sinners, the executioners of our day, who with cruel hate scourge and crucify Our Blessed Lord anew, I prefer to put before you another sin, crueler even than the point of the spear with which Longinus pierced the Savior's side, I mean the indifference and coldness of those who call themselves Our Lord's friends.  This is the sin which hurts Him most.  It pierces His adorable Heart, not because it is graver than that of the wicked, but because it is the hand of a friend that scourges Him, because it is a heart on which grace has perhaps been poured in abundance that wounds Him with ingratitude and disregard.  And in this sense we may say that one drop of gall from such a loved one is bitterer to Him than all He suffered during Holy Thursday night.

When speaking of the offenses of His own household, of His friends, He said to St. Margaret Mary: "This is what is most painful to Me," and for this sin He asked of His confidante and apostle a special act of reparation.  We certainly cannot shut our eyes to the thousands of very grave transgressions by which the sacred Majesty of God is outraged, especially in our cities which are so many Ninevehs and Babylons.  But I have abundant reason for saying that many of these transgressions would not be committed if we - the children of His predilection - loved Him as we should.  Let us not begin by mourning and making reparation for the sins of the wicked, but rather for the slackness and apathy, the indifference of those who, like ourselves, are the work of infinite love.

Oh! if we but loved Thee, Jesus, as we love creatures, when we squander our affections on them!  For it must be admitted that, in spite of our pettiness, we have a reserve of nobility hidden in the depths of our souls, a store of generosity, much unsuspected courage and self-abnegation and in time of danger or misfortune these treasures are suddenly discovered.  We know how to love when we want to do so, but we rarely desire to love Jesus ardently.  He is so neglected that we shut our hearts to Him, while we open wide to others far more exacting than He is.  Poor Jesus!

Father Mateo Crawley-Boevey, SS. CC.