Feeds:
Posts
Comments

Archive for October, 2012

It occurred to me, as I was praying the Divine Mercy Chaplet, that we ought to meditate on His Most Sorrowful Passion, but…why do we?

I was deeply asking Jesus to have mercy on us as I imagined how it felt to have the crown of thorns slide down His Most Precious skull. It did not make sense to me to ask Him for mercy as He suffered so unimaginably. Did He not have enough to think about during His agony than to listen to our pleas for mercy?

How mysterious a prayer across time and across events. He listens to us during His Passion, we console Him during His Passion, we cause Him more pain during His passion, He extends His Passion beyond any human capacity of endurance, we understand He does, but don’t understand how He does, much less why He does.

We have an intricate and direct understanding, all Christians do, that He suffered for us. Even for any one of us, in fact for just one of us if that was the case. There is clear revelation that His Passion is directly intertwined with our sins. That each moment of His Passion was for each of our sins. His humiliating nakedness for our shameless nakedness, the insults He received, the insults we inflict. All those He cured and taught left Him as we abandon our old relatives, poor relatives, poor friends, all those who die of loneliness.

During Holy Week, during the gospels readings where we are the crowd who shouts: “Crucify Him!! Crucify Him!!” for years I could not say those words and I watched how the congregation would, they would just say it as it was written, like they did not realize what it means!! They were demanding His Crucifixion.

How can I demand His crucifixion?

From afar, I admire, almost, our separated brethren. They celebrate the resurrected Jesus, only the resurrected Jesus. He died for our sins and He is now alive and that’s that. They don’t get caught up by His Passion at all except in thanksgiving for going thru it, but thank God, it’s done and over with!!!!

I shared an examination of conscience with a neo-pagan-Christian friend of mine that examines the Catholic faith with great interest. We have long conversations about it. When he read a 10 page examination he finally understood the Catholic responsibility to seek the state of grace and constantly been conscious of our wrongs as to readily repent and confess them. He’s happy that he just could say he is sorry every so often looking toward heaven, even from his bed. He finds that sufficient and I wonder if for him it is. I feel deep in my heart it’s not enough for me. I understand how Jesus took upon Himself my shameless nakedness, to show me how He cleanses me when He takes it to the Cross to die with Him. I accept His offer on the cross to take my sin upon Himself, to die with it that I may not keep it if I don’t want it.

I accept His prayer that He wants me in His Sacred Heart so He can take me to His Father’s Heart and remain with Him there if I want to. I understand that He wants us to acknowledge each moment of His suffering so we KNOW how sin looks, how deforming, defacing, how altering, how far from what He aimed for us to be. “….a worm… not a man…”

He then shows us His glorified body, illustrating what we could have instead of earthly pleasures and sloth. Blessed John Paul II said so often: “Become what you are”

I understand that to mean that I am the cause of His Passion and Death, that I am the cause of His coming to earth, I am the one He asks the Father to forgive ‘cause I just don’t know what I do’, I am the one He wants in His Sacred Heart so as to ascend to heaven with me in tow, to put me also, with Himself in the Father’s Heart to live there to enter into the Father’s Rest for ever.

I’ll try to say with the congregation: “Crucify Him!” because that is where it all starts.

Read Full Post »

                     

                 One day I was talking with God.

                  I unloaded my heart of so much injustice I saw. With anguish and anger that I could hardly bear, as I described this instance that triggered my crisis, a person I knew had the audacity to abuse my generosity and insult me so casually. I spoke passionately secretly wishing some revenge that God Himself might inflict to avenge me.
With passion and boldness I spoke when suddenly my mind stop dead.  blank, nada, empty, nothing.

                  Gradually a feeling, more than words, a recognition of a scene that could barely be deciphered.  Then, I understood an invitation was before me. I felt such faint words, words without speech or sound. But more accurately, I understood  like a horn in my ear.

                 “Look….,” I was invited, “Look how beautiful are these flowers”   There in front of me was a garden, incredibly diverse and vigorous.  God and I were now sitting on a wall at the edge of this beautiful garden whose perfume filled the air.       

See? See how these flowers emanate such                             pleasant scent.

                           Watch as they sway with the breeze”

                That is exactly what I saw, flowers of all kinds, of all colors, all sizes  gently rocking as the breeze blew even those so high up in the air.

                Captivated by that vision, like honey made of air, I understood that this garden exuded solidarity, companionship, brotherhood, a joy that was part of the color, shape, each petal, so pervasive was the joy they all were.

                 “Look,” God told me again, “Look how all the flowers …….”    I understood, I understood just exactly what He said, what He told me speechlessly.. that all the flowers were for Him, with him, and he knew each so intimately, even those hidden close to the ground,  believing that He did not see them, and those, so small believing that God could not see them, those who would eem             neglected or ugly, and those great, prominent, brilliant, that could be seen from everywhere, all, absolutely all know Him and His infinite tenderness protects them and feeds them, whether  they did not realize it so.

                 God showed me His beautiful garden, where each of its flowers do not complain of other flowers,  nor envy, don’t bother each other, nor hate each other or thought to be unsuitable. None spoke ill of another …. Including those growing in the shadows, believing that God did not see them.

                                                                                         
God did not say anything more. He had nothing more to say. I understood so clearly that He sees all the flowers, He cares for all the flowers, and all the flowers are from His garden where all love Him. I understood it as such beautiful lesson. Our love is for Him, our vision, and attention and understanding is to praise Him

                       His is justice and mercy, to Him belongs to dispense them as He sees fair

                                                                                             

not even Solomon was dressed as magnificantly as these flowers of God

 

Read Full Post »