Christ’s death on the Cross should live in our thoughts and imagination, for frequent thought on the Passion of Christ keeps aflame and brings to intense heat the fires of earnest piety. We must picture to the eyes of our heart Christ dying on the Cross if we would prevent the fires of devotion within us burning themselves out. An apposite quotation bears this out: “The fire on my altar shall always burn, and the priest shall feed it, putting wood on it every day” (Levit. vi, 12.)
Let me explain, most devout Mother. The altar of God is your heart. On the altar of your heart the fire of intense heat must burn constantly. You must feed the fire each day with the wood of the cross and the remembrance of the Passion of Christ. Isaiah, the prophet, preaches a similar truth: “You shall draw waters with joy out of the Saviour’s fountains” (Is. xii, 3.) In other words, if the grace of tears, the tears of thanksgiving, the tears of fervent piety are sought, such tears must be drawn from the Saviour’s fountains—that is, from the five wounds of Jesus Christ.
Draw near, O handmaid, with loving steps to Jesus wounded for you, to Jesus crowned with thorns, to Jesus nailed to the gibbet of the Cross. With the Blessed Apostle St. Thomas, so not merely gaze on the print of the nails in Christ’s hands; be not satisfied with putting your finger into the holes made by the nails in His hands; neither let it be sufficient even to put your hand into the wound in His side (Cf. John xx, 25, 27.) But enter bodily by the door in His side and go straight up to the very Heart of Jesus. There, burning with love for Christ Crucified, be transformed into Christ.
Fastened to the Cross by the nails of the fear of God, transfixed by the lance of the love of your inmost heart, pierced through and through by the sword of the most tender compassion, seek for nothing else, wish for nothing else, look for consolation in nothing else except in dying with Christ on the Cross. Then, at last, will you cry out with Paul the Apostle: “I have been crucified with Christ. I live, now not I; but Christ liveth in me” (Gal. ii, 19, 20.)
When you meditate on the passion of Christ proceed as follows: Think how Christ’s sufferings were the most disgraceful, the most bitter, the most complete, and the most protracted.
In the first place, O worthy handmaid of God, dwell on the fact that the death of Jesus Christ, your Spouse, was the most disgraceful possible. I say the most disgraceful because he was crucified as a thief and a highway robber. The old Law reserved the punishment of death by crucifixion for the villainous among thieves and the utterly criminal among robbers (Cf. Num. xxv, 4; Deut. xxi, 22 sq.; II Kings xxi, 6–9; Esth. vii, 10 and ix, 13; also Gal. iii, 13.)
Reflect for a moment, and realise how Christ suffered greater disgrace than usually befell a criminal. He was crucified on Mount Calvary, a place disgusting and vile because of its associations (Matt xxvii, 33; Mark xv, 22; Luke xxiii, 33; John xix, 17; and cf. S. Bonav. on Wisd. ii 19 etc., Com. on John xix, 17; Luke xxiii, 33.) It was a heap of dead men’s bodies and bones, and was the spot given over to the execution of those condemned to death for murderous deeds. There only vile criminals were beheaded; only vile criminals were hanged or crucified.
A little more thought will enable you to realize still better the greater disgrace that was meted out to Christ. He was hanged as a robber among robbers. He was placed in the midst of robbers as the Chief, the Prince, the King of robbers. Hence we find Isaiah saying: “He was reputed with the wicked” (Is. liii, 12; cf. also Matt, xxvii. 38; Mark xv, 27; Luke xxii, 37; xxiii, 33; John xix, 18.)
Consider even a little longer how greatly disgraced was your Spouse. As though He were unfit to live or die upon the earth, He was raised into the air and was hanged between heaven and earth. O worthy indignity! O fitting injury! The earth is refused to the Lord of the earth. Nothing in the world is considered viler than the Lord of the world. His condemnation was an insult; to crucify Him was still worse. “He was numbered and condemned among the wicked” (Isa liii, 12.) To compel Him to die shoulder to shoulder with criminals increased His shame. Lastly they put Him to death on the vile hill of Calvary and thus intensified His shame beyond understanding. Christ suffered the very extremity of insult and unparalleled disgrace.
O good Jesus, O kind Saviour, not once but often wert Thou outraged. When a man is repeatedly put to shame, his shame is thereby increased. Alas! they heaped insult upon insult on Thee! They bound thee, O Lord Jesus, with ropes in the Garden. In the house of Annas they slapped Thy face. They spat upon Thee when Thou wast in the hall of Caiaphas. They made sport and mockery of Thee in the presence of Herod. They forced Thee to carry the Cross along the road, and on Golgotha they crucified Thee. Alas, alas! The Freedom of the Captives is enslaved, the Glory of the Angels is mocked, the Life of Men is done to death! O you wretched men, you said: “Let us condemn Him to a most shameful death” (Wisd. ii, 20.) What you said you would do, you have done, and done well!
Realizing it all, St. Bernard cries out, “He emptied Himself taking the form of a servant [Phil, ii, 7.] He was a Son and He became a servant, but for Him it was insufficient to be a mere servant and to live in subjection. He took to Himself the form of a wicked servant, thus making Himself an object for the scourge and fitting Himself to pay the penalties for crimes He had never committed” (S. Bern. Holy Week Serm. 10.) He was not merely the Servant of the servants of God, as is the Pope, but He became the Servant even of the servants of the evil one; for did He not forgive and cleanse His executioners from the guilt of the foul crimes they had committed? This did not suffice. Lest you should dread the prospect of suffering similarly, He chose a death more humiliating and more confusing than any other. “He humbled Himself, becoming obedient unto death, even to the death of the Cross” (Phil, ii, 8.) What else could have reduced Him so to nothingness?
Come now, O virgin devoted to God, and consider attentively the bitter cruelty of Christ’s sufferings. When harassed and wearied with pain, a man ordinarily finds some relief and comfort by contracting his limbs and muscles. With His hands and legs extended on the cross, movement was impossible for Christ and so such relaxation was denied Him. Worn out with sufferings, He did not find even the least ease or lessening of pain. There was no place whereon He might rest His Divine adorable head as His soul was about to take her flight.
Let us go into the matter of Christ’s bitter sufferings more closely. The more tender a body, the more acutely does it suffer (Cf. S. Bonav. Ill Sent. d. xvi, I, qu. 2.) A woman’s body is more tender than a man’s. There was never flesh more adapted for suffering than the virginal flesh of Christ. It was born of a Virgin, who conceived of the Holy Ghost, and the Man Christ was the tenderest of virgins. It was possible for Christ to suffer the most excruciating sufferings of all.
Actually, at the mere thought of the death that over-shadowed Him, “His soul became sad,” and as the sadness reverberated in His tender flesh, “the sweat” of his Body oozed out in thick drops “as a sweat of blood dripping to the ground” (Matt, xxvi, 38; Luke xxii, 44.) What must have been the anguish and torture He endured during the course of His Passion! St. Bernard says: “O Jesus Christ, the blood which You sweated from Your sacred body, and which flowed to the ground as You prayed, most surely showed the anguish of Your heart” (S. Bern., Serm. on the Life and Pass. of the Lord, 6.)
“O sweetest Child,” cried out St. Anselm, “what did You do that You should be treated so? O most Lovable of Youths, what was Your sin that Your judgment should be so severe? Alas, I am the cause of Your grief, I inflicted the deadly blow!” (S. Anselm, Prayer.)
Once again, exercise your attention and come to a better understanding of Christ’s bitterly cruel death. When a person is innocent of a crime, the more innocent he is, the more poignantly does he feel the punishment inflicted. If Christ had endured the tortures of His passion because of His own sins, His sufferings would have been somewhat tolerable. But “He did no sin, neither was guile found in his mouth” (I Pet. ii, 22.) Pilate bore witness to this: “I find no cause of death in Him” (Cf. John xviii, 38.) So too testifies the seventh chapter of the Book of Wisdom: He is “the brightness of eternal light, and the unspotted mirror of God’s majesty, and the image of His goodness” (Wisd. vii, 26.)
Consider still further how painful was the death of your beloved Spouse, Jesus Christ. Suffering is bad enough, but when every torture conceivable is inflicted, what could be more painful? Christ, your Spouse, suffered in every part of His body so that no member, not even the least, escaped its own particular suffering. No part of His body was too small or too trivial but that it had its full share of torture. “From the sole of His foot unto the crown of His head was no soundness in Him” (Cf. Is. i, 6.)
Hence, overwhelmed with the prophetic vision of Christ’s too great sufferings, Jeremiah puts the following words into the Saviour’s mouth: “Oh, all ye who pass by the way, look and see if there be any sorrow like unto My sorrow” (Lamentations, i, 12.) In very deed, my Lord Jesus Christ, there was never grief like Your grief, no sorrow like Your sorrow, no suffering comparable with Your suffering. You shed Your blood so profusely that Your body was bathed in blood.
O good Jesus, O sweetest Jesus! Not merely drops of blood, but rivers of blood flowed liberally from Your five wounds when Your body was hanging nailed to the cross! Blood flowed in torrents from Your head when you were crowned with thorns! Blood flowed from the whole of Your body whilst You were being scourged with the lash! Blood flowed from Your heart when You were pierced with the lance! If any blood remained in You, it could have been only by a miracle! Tell me, oh, tell me, O sweet Lord, why did You shed so much blood? Why did you shed all the blood of Your body? One drop of Your sacred precious blood would have sufficed for the world’s redemption. Why did you do it?
I know, O Lord, why. It was simply and solely to show how much You love me.
“What return, then, shall I make to the Lord for all that He has done for me?” (Ps. cxv, 12) Most surely, my Lord, as long as I live I shall never forget how Thou spentest Thyself in my behalf. I shall bear constantly in mind Thy preaching, the weariness caused Thee by Thy travelling up and down the country, Thy vigils and prayers, Thy compassionate tears, Thy griefs, the insults that were heaped upon Thee, the spittle and the sneers, the blows, the nails and wounds. Otherwise, were I to forget these things, rightly would the blood of this Just Man, which was shed upon the earth, be required of me” (S. Bern. Holy Week Serm. ii; cf. Matt, xxii, 35.)
“Who therefore, will give water to my head, and a fountain of tears to my eyes,” (Jer. ix, i), that day and night I may weep for the death of my Lord Jesus Christ? He suffered death not because of His own sins, but because of mine. In the words of Isaiah, “He was wounded for our iniquities, He was bruised for our sins” (Is. liii, 5.)
Lastly, ponder attentively and carefully on the protracted duration of Christ’s sufferings and death. Christ carried around with Him His sufferings from the beginning to the end. From the first moment of His birth to the last flicker of His life, His death and passion were ever present to His mind. The Psalmist assures us of this fact: “I am poor, and in labours from My youth” (Ps. lxxxvii, 16.) The same thought is expressed elsewhere: “I have been scourged all the day” (Ps. lxxii, 14.) That is, I have been scourged during the whole of my life.
A further thought is suggested for reflection. The arrangements made for inflicting Christ’s sufferings were peculiar to His passion. Everything was done to protract the torture. He was suspended in the air that consciousness should endure and thus He would remain in pain to the end. Further, everything tended to keep Him alive, and thus the torture of a lingering death was His. Death by crucifixion kept Him conscious and in agony to the last moment.
From all that I have said, dear spouse of Christ and servant of God, you will gather a clear idea of Christ’s sufferings and death. You will be able to realize somewhat how the sacred passion induced in our Lord a sense of unutterable disgrace. His sufferings were cruelly painful, and they extended to every member of His body and to every faculty of His soul. In a word, Christ’s sufferings and death were unique in their kind and protracted in their duration.
Christ accepted these sufferings and death to gain your devoted love. Through thought on these sufferings and out of gratitude, He wishes you to love Him. He desires you to love Him with your whole heart, with your whole mind, and with your whole soul (Cf. Matt, xxii, 37.) To save a slave He became a slave. What could prove better His kindness of heart? What better incentive to enable us to work for our own salvation could He give than His own example? To appease the divine anger He accepted the death that the justice of God demanded and thereby gave us an example of obedience.
Could you name a better inducement to love God than this love that the Son of God has shown for you? In spite of our worthlessness, though we deserve punishment, He “laid down His life” (Cf. John x, 15) for us. His kindness reached such depths and such heights that it is impossible to imagine anything more tender, more kind or more lovable. The greatness of His love becomes more evident the more we realize the abject and terrible nature of Christ’s sufferings. For God “spared not even His own Son, but delivered Him up for us all; how hath He not also, with Him, given us all things?” (Rom. viii, 32.) This is the way God has loved us, and has invited us to love Him and to imitate Him in His love for us.
Woe, therefore, to those who are ungrateful for the benefits accruing to them from this great kindness of Christ! Woe to those in whose souls the death of Christ produces no good effects! “Look,” says St. Bernard, “at Christ on the Cross! Look at Him, His head bent down as though He longed to stoop to kiss us! Look at Him, His arms extended to take us in a loving embrace! Look at His hands so deeply pierced to pour out riches for our benefit. Look at His sacred side opened wide to permit the love of His heart to reach us! Look at Him, His whole body extended to give Himself entirely to us! Woe to those, I say it a second time, who by their sins ‘crucify again to themselves the Son of God’ [Heb. vi, 6,] and have added to the grief of His wounds.” (Ps. lxviii, 27.)
Woe, further, to those whose hearts will not soften nor give way to grief at the thought of Christ s sufferings. Woe to those whom the shedding of God’s blood in such abundance and the payment of such a great price cannot warm and inflame to the practice of virtue, kind charity and good works! Certainly, such people are “the enemies of the cross of Christ” (Phil, iii, 18.) On a day long since past, onlookers blasphemed Christ hanging on the Cross. Sinners do worse. They blaspheme Christ the Son of God sitting at the right hand of His Father in Heaven.
Speaking through the mouth of His servant St. Bernard, Our Lord complains of these ungrateful ones and rebukes them. “Man,” He says, “look what I suffer for you. What grief is there such as I suffer? In the act of dying for you I appeal to you. Look at the sufferings heaped upon Me. Look at the nails which dig into My flesh. You can see the exterior suffering, but My interior grief of heart is greater still when I realise that in spite of all you remain so ungrateful” (S. Bern. III Sent. d. 16.)
Take care, Mother, lest you be wanting in gratitude for such benefits. A great price has been paid for you. Have a care lest you be lacking in devotion or show too little attachment to Christ. Place Jesus Christ “as a seal on your heart” (Cf. Cant, viii, 6.) Just as a seal is impressed upon soft wax, impress your Spouse Jesus Christ on your heart. Say to Him with the Prophet: “My heart is become like melting wax” (Ps. xxi, 15.) Put Him “as a seal upon thy arm” (Cf. Cant, viii, 6) so that you may never cease doing good and may never tire of working for the honour of the name of your Lord Jesus Christ. When you have done everything, when you have spent yourself in His service, begin afresh, as though you had never done anything for Him.
If ever anything sad befalls you, or anything grieves you, or if perchance something causes you weariness or bitterness of heart, or sweetness of soul turns insipid, lift up immediately your eyes to your Lord hanging nailed to the Cross. Look upon Him, His head crowned with thorns! Gaze upon the nails, the iron nails which fasten Him to the Cross, and upon the lance piercing His sacred side. In all trying moments, picture and contemplate the wounds in His hands and feet, picture to yourself the wounds in His most blessed head, the wound in His sacred side, the wounds of His whole body. Call to mind that He was wounded for your sake, that he suffered for you and that His sufferings were so great because He loved you beyond compare.
Believe me, a glance at such pictures and thought on such sufferings will quickly change your sadness into joy. What was heavy to bear will become light. What causes your weariness will become something to love. The rugged and the difficult will be changed into sweetness and relish, so that soon, with Holy Job, you will begin to exclaim: “The things which before my soul would not touch,” now when I look upon the “anguish” of Christ “are my meats” (Job vi, 7.) It is as though you were to say: The good things which were distasteful to my soul are now become through the passion of Christ, which I realise, sweet and savory.
In the Chronicles of the Franciscan Order there is related the following story (Cf. Chronicles xxiv, 3): A certain man being converted and having entered the Order eventually became impatient with the frugality of the Friars. The discipline of the Friary, too, upset him. Once, being very perturbed and lost to all patience on account of these things, he threw himself down before a crucifix. With bitter tears he enumerated the intolerable hardships he was called upon to endure: the burdens of the religious life, the scant and frugal fare, the tastelessness of the food and drink. While he poured forth his grievances, suddenly blood began to ooze from the side of the image of Christ nailed to the cross. As he continued his weeping and wailing, the bleeding image of the crucified Christ spoke to him these words: “When you find your food or drink distasteful, dip it into the sauce of the blood of Christ.”