Jesus does not look at us from a distance with a detached pity; rather, He invites us into a profound, personal friendship rooted in His desire to labor alongside us. In the tradition of Ignatian spirituality, we are called to recognize that God is constantly active in our lives, "dwelling in creatures" and working for our good. This is the heart of the Contemplation to Attain Love: realizing that everything we have is a gift from a God who yearns to be close to us. As Jesus reassures us in Matthew 11:28, "Come to me, all you who labor and are burdened, and I will give you rest." He doesn't just offer a temporary escape; He offers His very self as a companion who understands our humanity intimately.
To accept this love, we must practice the discernment of spirits, learning to distinguish the voice of the "Creator and Lord" from the movements of desolation that tell us we are unworthy or alone. Jesus wants to help us navigate the interior movements of our souls, whispering the same truth found in Jeremiah 31:3: "With age-old love I have loved you; so I have kept my mercy toward you." By praying for an "intimate knowledge" of the Lord—as St. Ignatius suggests in the Spiritual Exercises—we begin to see that His love is not a passive feeling but an active, helping hand reaching out to us in every moment of our day.
I am just beginning to dive into the beautiful, ancient devotion to the Five Wounds of Jesus, and I wanted to share a bit of the journey with you. It can feel a little overwhelming at first to look at the Crucifix this closely, but I’ve found such a gentle guide in St. Bernard of Clairvaux . In his Jubilee Rhythm on the Passion, Bernard doesn't treat the wounds of Jesus as distant historical facts or sights to be avoided. Instead, he approaches them with the tenderness of a friend, speaking directly to the feet, hands, side, and face of our Lord. For someone like me who is just starting out, his rhythm teaches that prayer isn't just about reciting words; it’s a holy hide-and-seek. Bernard invites us to literally hide ourselves within these wounds, seeing them as clefts in the rock where we can find shelter when our own lives feel turbulent or heavy. As I start this process, I’ve been practicing what I call gazing and greeting. Following Bernard’s lead, I look at the Crucifix an...
Comments
Post a Comment