CHAPTER XXVII Of the lonely dereliction of the Lord Jesus on the Cross
CHAPTER XXVII
Of the lonely dereliction of the Lord Jesus on the Cross
I BLESS Thee, and give thanks to Thee, O Lord Jesus Christ, most loving Son of the Father’s Love, for Thy awful and lonely dereliction on the Cross, when, at the moment of Thy direst need, as if Thou hadst been an alien and of no account; as if Thou hadst not been the very Son of God; as if Thou hadst no power or merit of any kind soever, Thou wast forsaken of God the Father, by the host of Heaven, and by every creature upon earth—at which time Thy most sorrowful Mother, attended only by a few poor women and by the disciple to whose care Thou hadst committed her, alone stood by Thee; and she, by reason of the grief and anguish of her soul, could scarce speak to Thee one word.
I praise and glorify Thee for that strong cry which burst from Thy lips, when, in the hearing of all those that stood by, Thou didst utter those woeful words: “Eli, Eli, lamma sabhchthani.” By those words, O my Lord, Thou didst make abundantly plain the intensity of Thy anguish, and the withdrawal from Thee of consolation of every kind. Thou didst declare by them the measure of what Thou wast enduring for the salvation of us men, by whom Thou wast in return being set at nought, nay, rather wast being treated as the vilest of malefactors, and as one quite unworthy to live.
Mark well, O my soul, this Word of Jesus; for it was spoken specially for thy learning. Consider—Oh the wonder of it!—how the Lord of all things, Who has need of nothing, is reduced to such a depth of misery that He tells forth His need into His Father’s ears; that He Who orders all things as co-worker with His Father, complains that His Father has forsaken Him; that He Who upholds all things by the word of His Power proclaims the burden laid upon Him to be too heavy for Him to bear; that He, Who is ever ready to comfort the mourner and the oppressed, confesses Himself to be an outcast and forlorn; that He Who is the Hearer of prayer, Whose Ears are ever open to the cry of the poor, humbly asks the question: “My God, my God, why hast Thou forsaken Me?” Of a truth, from the beginning of His Passion until now, no words so woeful had yet been spoken.
It was for me, O Christ—I know it well—it was for me that in Thy passible human nature Thou didst utter this cry upon the Cross; for Thy dereliction is my comfort, Thy bitter cry is my support, Thy weakness is my strength; Thy sufferings have paid the penalty for all my sins and shortcomings. Thou art the heavenly Physician; moved by Thy infinite love and compassion, Thou didst submit to be overwhelmed by unfathomable sorrow and anguish: and thus it is that with the weak Thou canst be weak, with the mourner Thou canst mourn, with the sinner Thou canst be sad, with the oppressed Thou canst grieve, and for all Thy weak members Thou canst offer up prayer with strong crying and with tears. Those words which Thou didst utter were not spoken by way of rebellion or of despair: they were the cry of Thy human nature and sensibility. Thy Flesh was suffering the penalty of guilt, of which it had never known the taint. Thy Soul was enjoying the highest bliss; but Thy Body, all innocent as It was, was enduring punishment than which none could be more severe. Thy Divinity brought no relief to Thy anguish; but It worked a miracle in Thy power of endurance, that so for the Redemption of our race nothing might be wanting.
What faithful soul is there, which, after meditating on these things, can help sharing Thy anguish? What heart is there so hard as not to be pierced by that exceeding bitter cry? Even the elements, devoid of feeling as they are, stood unmistakably aghast in sympathy with Thy sufferings; for from the sixth until the ninth hour the sun withdrew his light from the world, refusing to shine upon men who were so unworthy of it; and the earth quaked, shuddering at the insults heaped upon its Creator, grieving over the sufferings which the Author of life had to endure, and exclaiming that it could not bear to see Him die. When therefore the sun mourns, and the earth trembles and quakes, see thou to it, O man endowed with reason, that thou too takest part in their grief; that thou dost fully mark the cry of Jesus, why the cry was uttered, and what it meant. Note how, in all His tribulation and anguish, the Lord Jesus remained meek and patient, and how all the words which fell from His Lips were words of sweetness and of love. His prayer is addressed to His Father in Heaven; He calls upon God alone; Him alone does He tell of His desolation. He seeks no comfort from His Mother; He asks no help from His friends.
Here, then, is instruction for thee, from the Mouth of Jesus; He shows thee what thou shouldst do when thou art in distress. Art thou suffering from some bodily infirmity; hast thou some mental trouble or unhappiness to bear; art thou looked down upon by others; hast thou lost the favour of men by reason of thy poverty or other defect; be not cast down, be not impatient; but use thy trouble as a stepping-stone in thy spiritual progress, use it as an opportunity for sweet converse with Jesus as He hangs upon the Cross, despised and rejected of men, and with the Father’s Face hidden from Him for a season; and meditate upon those words which He spake: “My God, my God, why hast Thou forsaken Me?”
When thou art feeling weak and ill, try to be patient and gentle; do not grumble if every now and then thy attendants neglect thee, or thy brethren fail to visit thee. Think of Jesus in His desolation upon the Cross, and shrink from complaining of thy petty discomfort; pray Him to visit thee, seek thy consolation from Him, Who is able to comfort thee, even when thou art forsaken and alone. Set no store by the fleeting solace which is all that this world can give; make not too much of the attachment of thy friends; desire rather to have God’s angels watching over thee, and call upon the Saints to pray for thee. Lift up thine eyes to Him Who hangs above thee on the Cross; meditate on His Sacred Wounds; pray to the glorious Virgin; keep Mary ever in mind; pray earnestly to her; for she never left the Cross’s foot, and she heard Jesus crying with a loud voice to the Father. Close thine eyes to all things earthly, lift up thy soul to thy home which is above. Cling to God as thy Father, to Jesus as thy Brother, to Mary as thy Mother, to the Angels as thy friends, to the Saints as thy kinsfolk. Of that noble and exalted stock thou comest too, not by natural birth, but by the spiritual freedom wherewith Christ has made us free. Surrounded by protectors such as these; with loving patrons such as these ready at thy call, thou mayest in confidence await the coming of the day of doom, and hope for mercy at the hands of thy most loving Saviour.
O supreme and adorable Father of my Lord Jesus Christ, have respect, I entreat Thee, to the prayer which Thy servant now offers to Thee by the hands of Thy Beloved Son, as He hangs upon the Cross; forgive me all the sins which I have at any time committed; withhold not from me the gift of Thy heavenly grace; suffer me not to be tempted above that which I am able to bear, nor to be unduly distressed by the fiery darts of the wicked one. Prove me, O Lord, and try me, as Thou knowest it to be good for me; but keep my soul in Thy Hands, and with every temptation make for me such a way of escape that I may be able to bear it. That which the cunning enemy of my soul has contrived for my hurt, turn Thou, I beseech Thee, into a means of salvation, and of the shedding forth upon me of yet more grace. The more I feel the weight of the trouble which is laid upon me, and the less I am able to put my trust in what man can do for me, the more powerfully and the more closely be Thou at hand to help me; for in the hour of a man’s greatest need Thou art of all friends the most true. And if, when trouble is laid upon me, Thou shouldst see fit to leave me for a while without consolation, give me then, I pray Thee, grace to bear even this patiently, and in trusting faith to commit all my burden into Thy Hands; to store up in the deepest recesses of my heart the thought of that time of desolation through which Thy Beloved Son, in Whom Thou art well pleased, had to pass; and to remember that in His extremity, when bereft of the help of all his friends, He was mindful of Thee, and of Thee alone.