Thursday, April 1, 2010
Gethsemane and Betrayal (Journal)
Who am I to describe the pain and destitution of your agony? You were afraid and alone, and the miseries of sin were upon You. You cried, and You sweat blood, as the pain and fear were so unbearable. Who am I to contemplate this complete and utter sorrow? Who am I to guess what disgusting threats the devil heaped upon You? Your only company on this night was the dark and horror of fear. My Jesus, it was indeed dark and you were weakened under your burden... All human susceptibility that is rooted in pain and fear was Your lot. An earnest horror beset You, and an understanding of Your Passion so complete that your human heart, thus weakened, made the most perfect and difficult act of obedience in all eternity. You accepted the greatest burden for the sake of those who would not love You, because your love and longing to save was of Divine intensity.
My Jesus, my poor afflicted Love,
Willingly you gave Yourself into the hands of the men who would kill You. With a kiss, You were betrayed by one You love, and all Your friends fled from You. You were alone, and in the power of those who hated You. Bound like a murderer, You were led away and buffetted and spit upon. There was no compassion in their hearts, only hate and foul humor. What have they done to You, my Jesus? How they hit and beat You and laugh at Your pain! Could they really thus treat the Beloved Son of God? Could they really thus harm my Beloved Christ? Not a finger could they lay on You in Your glory, why have You subjected Yourself to their torments and taunts? Oh My Love! Why do you let them do this? Why do You let ME do this!? I can hardly bear to think of your Sacred Face which they have defiled with buffets and spittle. Oh My Jesus, was it necessary that You should bear such shame? But no, my Love, You have taken all people as Your children and in Your compassion You have loved them, so You would not allow this burden to weigh upon their shoulders. Oh my sweet Jesus, so kind and gentle and full of love. How could I doubt but that You must suffer? If Your love is so great, and Your Divine compassion so intense, then You could not help but give all. Yes, You give the perfect gift in the perfect way.
You, my God, are called a blasphemer by the priests who serve God. You are deserted by Your closest friends, and still you love them! You bear all meekly, and without fault. Oh my perfect Jesus, Your blessed being thus scorned, Your sanctity thus mocked, You dealt with all like a gentle lamb. In Your wisdom and greatness, Your holiness and courage, my heart finds its true love even in the midst of these sorrows. Let me come to You now, in Your pain. Let me beaut this mockery and beating with You, let me console You, let me wash Your face so torn with ugliness, for I see my love here!