Tomorrow, we begin our observance of the Triduum, in which we can participate in Christ’s establishment of the Eucharist, His Passion and death on the Cross, and His Resurrection on Easter Sunday.
I didn’t post much about Lent these past weeks because Lent is essentially the whole model of this blog: reflect on little deaths in relation to the death of Jesus, and see the beauty that comes after. But, of course, this blog is like Catho-Light; if you want the diesel, you have to go to the Gospels or the saints. There you find real deaths: deaths of martyrdom, deaths that are violent, deaths that we don’t even see in our nightmares.
A stumbling block I often run across in my prayer is that I don’t understand the compassion of Christ very well. Sometimes I imagine the saints and Jesus leaning over the edge of their clouds, glorified bodies still sporting their scars, arms and heads once devoured by lions now shaking slowly; they’re all kind of staring at me like, “Well???”
I often get stuck in this “suck it up” mentality, like, “Hey dude, Jesus and the saints all went through way worse than you, so quit your bitchin’.”
But then I am reminded that, while there is some truth in that, it is perhaps more important to remember why Jesus suffered, why He went through such barbaric, ritualistic torture, why the Creator of all Things allowed His earthly life to end (for a bit, anyway) with Him hanging limp from a tree, covered in blood and spit and sweat.
It wasn’t just because I was very very bad and so was everyone else, and so, dammit, someone has to die.
It was to make relationship between me and Him possible, to peel back the rind of sin with which I have covered the fruit of His love so I can taste the nectar of His joy.
This song says it beautifully and simply. Hope you like it. Please keep my wife, daughter, and me in your prayers over these next three days.