Section 14
Lord God, Joy of the heavenly court, how could you—as if you were the most foolish of men—allow yourself to be thus mocked, spat upon, and struck by such vile men? Your tormentors, filled with fury, spent that entire night beating and ridiculing you, and by the time they had their fill of punishing you, your face was hardly recognizable. Through all this you maintained an incomparable meekness and matchless modesty of soul that your wicked tormentors were incapable of perceiving. Because you were innocent you suffered all these things out of love and, therefore, you have become dearer and more lovable to all the elect, who, following the interior motions of their soul, acknowledge you as their Supreme Good.
Most patient Jesus, as I reflect on the large number of ignominious insults that you suffered, I ask you to teach me to be aware of my own vileness and, in view of my many sins, to acknowledge that I justly deserve to be despised and ignored by men.
Look with pity on my shortcomings and strengthen my heart that I may put up with abusive words when they are addressed to me. I am well aware of my excesses and my face blushes in shame. Because you were exceedingly humble, you bore, and without murmuring, these insulting remarks for me, despicable sinner that I am. You even suffered chains and stripes.
O how different you and I are; how far I am from true humility! For a slight injury or inconsiderate word, I yield to disliking my fellow man. When I ought to give much thanks for a helpful reproof, I, on the contrary, become sad and grow impatient, thereby gaining nothing by it.
Lord, I beg you, to forgive me for the evil I have done and for frequently offending you by my frivolity. I have not preserved my heart in purity of conscience, nor have I, as I ought, subjected myself with due reverence to you and all rational creatures.
Give me a salutary sorrow together with a fountain of tears. Give me a love for the discipline2 that I may always recall the blows you suffered. Give me persevering patience to bear bitter accusations and to realize that I am truly worthy of contempt.
May the harsh buffeting of your head inspire me to bear all my bodily sufferings with patience, and may the blindfolding of your eyes restrain the curiosity of my own.
Let the foul spitting on your handsome face repress all carnal affection in me and may it teach me not to yield to this world’s external glitter but to appreciate and honor the soul’s interior virtues.
May the mockery that you underwent drive from me all frivolous behavior and empty merriment, and may the shameful dishonor shown your dignity extinguish in me all longing for honors and always incline me to what is menial and humble.