Exhaling

As I prayed the Divine Mercy Chaplet recently, kneeling before the crucifix, I seemed to recognize anew Christ’s total oblation, to see with fresh eyes the beauty of this complete Gift. I was filled with gratitude as I looked on this perfect Sacrifice, given for me. But then I saw something else - the gift of salvation, yes; the perpetual oblation, yes; but there is more:

You want us to be grateful for all You have given for our salvation (Yourself), but also to accept wholly what You continually give (Yourself). You eagerly give Yourself to us, desiring to be wholly ours and to be ONE with us – and this eagerness is so vehement, this love so passionate, this longing so uncontainable that it burns and overflows from Your gentle Heart and drives You (as it were) to continually pour Yourself out for us, to give Yourself as FOOD to be EATEN. Take and EAT; this is My Body, given up for you.  The force of these words is too often lost to us…

The Sacrament is inseparable from the Sacrifice. When we look on the Cross, we should also see the continuous Gift of the Eucharist. When we look on the Eucharist, we should  also see the Cross, where this Gift was given.

You long to become one with us, and we must long to become one with You, for others.

Even though the graphic didn’t import well….

Long ago, we talked of a conspiracy of love and beauty to stand in the face of the nihilism of the day. Pia had me chuckling in her recent comment when she revived the idea. The world needs this. We need each other. And this is still a good meeting place. So.

 Viva la cospirazione!

Starting…. now!

Rainy Haiku

The sun broke through
and made all the drenched forest
glistening crystal.

Our real life, our real work, our real progress, is hidden and interior, burning relentlessly beneath the surface of our actions and interactions and behind the words we use to conceal or reveal that hidden Fire.

If we are content to know one another by words and actions only, we cannot really know more than an outer protective wall. We must “enter in” to know; we must understand each other’s words but also the silences; we can often recognize the frustrations, but we must also find the hope. What are the desires of this heart? This is what we are: what we hope for.

Though our thoughts, desires, judgments, inclinations, joys, and sorrows are often kept hidden, the real self that they create is always trying to make itself known in our words and choices. Others know us in spite of us, as it were, and often know us better than we know ourselves.

Our heart will not be content to remain hidden. “From the fullness of the heart, the mouth speaks.”

So let us strive to know the people God has put in our lives, to “enter in” to their sorrows and joys so that we can serve their real needs, rather than our own projections. This is the purest kind of love of neighbor.