THE TWENTIETH CHAPTER

Jesus is delivered to Pilate

Very early in the morning, at the first hour of the day, those blood-thirsty and cruel men met together, that they might deliver Jesus to death. Their pestilential envy and blood-thirstiness gave them no rest, while their mad rage so devoured and inflamed their hearts, that almost like mad dogs, they greedily thirsted after the innocent Blood of that meek Lamb. They led Him, therefore, into their council-chamber, and again questioned Him; and when they heard Him say that He was the Son of God, they cried out: "What further need have we of witnesses? Out of His own mouth we have heard." Then they led Him bound and shamefully disfigured to Pilate, to be condemned to death by that uncircumcised dog; that is to say that Pilate, when he saw Him so despised by the Jews, and condemned and cast off by the high-priests, might judge Him to be some wicked wretch, and so might indict Him, and sentence Him to death, and hand Him over wholly to the priests, to do with Him according to their will.

This then is the third procession of our Lord Jesus, which for our sakes He undertook in His Passion with sorrow unutterable. See now, O my soul! with exceeding grief and compassion, how these truculent men led thy Lord God, chained and wretchedly disfigured, and marked all over with every sign of condemnation that they could think of, to Pilate the judge. Oh! who can think of the shame, and the reproach, and the affliction, and the annoyance, and the contempt which they caused our sweet Jesus to suffer on the way? Oh! with what ignominy did they lead the Lord of glory, Who is all honour and glory, to a profane and heathen man, to be condemned by him to death, just as if He had been the most wicked of robbers?

But when they had come to Pilate, without judgment, and without reason, they all with one accord barked out their false charges against our Lord Jesus, and heaped their lies upon Him, so that they might deafen Pilate with their noise, and obtain from him, by the clamour of their savage words, what by truth and justice they had not been able to obtain; and that Pilate, when he heard them all asking the same thing, might fear to oppose them all.

Come then, O all ye faithful of Christ, I pray you, and let us see, how our Lord, like an innocent lamb, stood there, ready to be slain for the sake of our salvation. There sat Pilate, puffed up with pride of state, as His judge. On either side of them were ranged His savage torturers, waiting for Pilate's sentence, ready to crucify and kill Him. Behind stood the wicked crowd of cruel Jews, roaring like lions, and uttering horrid cries. In the midst of them all, that meek Lamb opened not His blessed mouth to defend or excuse Himself, for He too was ready; ready, that is, to die for the salvation of those very wretches. With terrible eyes and cruel countenance did the cruel and wicked Jews scowl upon Him, and gnash their teeth; yet all the while our loving and tender Lord stood there in lowly shame, His eyes cast down, His hands bound, ready to drink the chalice which His Father had given Him. And Pilate, moved by such exceeding lowliness and patience, to disdain rather than to kindliness, spake to Christ roughly enough, and said: "Speakest Thou not to me? Knowest Thou not, that I have power to crucify Thee, and that I have power to let Thee go?" Ah! who would not be kindled to humility, and patience, and love, at the sight of the Lord of lords, Who is to come to judge the living and the dead, standing there before that vile man, to be condemned by him, and bearing with such patience all that cruel wrong, and shame, and confusion, and contempt, and ignominy. Yet, wretched men that we are, we can hardly suffer one little word of reproach for the love of God! For if aught be done against us by our enemies, for a whole year do we carry in our hearts both anger and hatred, wasting ourselves wretchedly away by the very madness of our wrath. Nor do we heed, how the Lord of Majesty suffereth daily at our hands, reproach, and unfaithfulness, and wrong, and contempt, all the many times when we despise His holy commandments, and oppose His will, and neglect His grace, or receive it in vain, and when we daily crucify Him again, and mock Him, and pierce Him with cruel wounds, and shed His Sacred Blood. For we fear not to commit accursed and hateful sins, for which Christ suffered all this. Nevertheless, our gracious God is ever ready to take us back into His grace, to forgive us our sins, and not only to forgive, but to forget them, and so to forget them, as to confirm upon us even greater grace and friendship. For when we turn to Him with our whole hearts from our sins, Christ is ready to be our Intercessor and Advocate, and to place Himself between His Father's wrath and us, and our sins, and to offer Himself wholly with all His Passion to the Father for our trespasses and negligences. Yet we, puffed up and wretched, who are but ashes and dust, can hardly forgive the wrong of one little word, or look with calm eyes upon those who have offended us. Therefore hath God well said, that He will forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive them that trespass against us.

THE TWENTY-FIRST CHAPTER

A Prayer that we may perfectly follow and love Jesus

O Jesus, my hope, life, nourishment and comfort, Thou light of my heart, joy of my soul, refreshment of my spirit, my health and my rest, what shall I render unto Thee for Thy numberless benefits, which Thou hast vouchsafed to bestow upon me, Thy most unworthy creature! How shall I be able to love Thee in return for Thine immense love, since it is so infinite and overflowing, that all my understanding and all the powers of my soul faint away for very wonder! How can I ever forget Thee in my heart? How can I ever love to labour, for aught save to repay Thee for Thy mighty love, and to satisfy it? For if I spend myself even a thousand times, what am I compared to my Lord? How ever can this marvellous work go out of my memory, that not only Thou, the Lord of lords, but also the Judge of all creatures, hast vouchsafed to become, as it were, the servant of servants, and a guilty and wicked man, and hast desired with the malefactors to be sentenced to a shameful death? Behold I, a wretched and vile sinner, condemned by my own conscience, desire in the eyes of men to appear just, and to have a zeal for virtue; and if aught of honour or praise is given me, if any, on that do I lean with satisfaction. Why is this, O loving Lord, except that I do not seek Thine honour and glory with all my strength, and all my power? But why do I not seek Thy glory, except that I do not love Thee with my whole heart? And why do I not love Thee as much as I ought, except that I still love myself, and have not as yet despised and denied myself? This is why I do not seek Thee, O my God, with my whole strength, but rather seek myself in many ways. This is why I do not walk in the holy footsteps of Thy lowliness, and patience, and obedience, and resignation. But, O most merciful God! have mercy on me, Thy most wretched creature, for I confess to Thee my weakness and perverseness. Help me, O Lord my God, to deny and destroy myself, and so to crucify my pleasure-loving nature, that I may resist sin even unto blood. I cannot do anything without the help of Thy grace. And although my love be not strong as death, so as to be able, like Thy holy martyrs, to suffer myself, by the death of my body, Thy shameful death, yet do Thou vouchsafe so to strengthen my spirit, that in part, and by degrees, I may pay my debt to Thee, which as a whole, and at once, I cannot pay; and that so much the more I may die to myself for Thy honour, in all things that please the senses, and offer obstacles to Thy love, as I am the less able to undergo the death of the Cross for Thy sake, as Thou hast done for me, and so many martyrs after Thee have done. And what other reason can there be, O loving God! that I am so frail, and useless, and unstable, and changeable, except that I do not love Thee, my God, with the whole strength of my heart? Help me, then, that I may love Thee exceedingly from my inmost heart. Inflame my heart with love of Thee, wound it with Thy love.

I confess, indeed, O gracious God, that Thou desirest to be loved by all men, nor dost Thou refuse Thy love to any man, who is fit and able to receive it. I know also, O sweet God, that to all my sins it must be ascribed, that Thy love hath grown cold within me. For my many faults come in between Thee and me, and are an obstacle to Thy love, so that it cannot have place in me, an4 accomplish its gracious work. For Thy Holy Spirit, Who is love itself, cannot dwell in a vessel that is unclean, nor in a body subject to sin. O Jesus, Thou Saviour Whom I cannot see, behold, I confess to Thee, that I am a vessel full of sin and uncleanness; but if Thou wilt Thou canst make me clean, for Thou art that Lamb without spot, Who `takest away all the-sins of the world, Who wast slain for our sins, crucified for our iniquities, and wounded that Thou mightest heal our wounds; and Thou hast shed Thy sacred Blood, to cleanse us from all stain of sin. Wherefore I pray Thee, O most loving Jesus, to wash away in Thy purest Blood whatever in me is displeasing to Thee, or can come between Thy naked love and my wretched soul. Oh! take the same, and uttterly consume and bring it to nothing in the abyss of Thy divine grace, that I may deserve, without anything coming between us, to be taken captive, and bound, and wounded, and swallowed up, and transformed by Thy love, so that the old man in me, which is all carnal and earthly, being crucified and dead, the new man may be raised by Thee, and born out of Thee; that new man, made according to Thine image, that knoweth not the things of earth, seeketh no fleshly pleasures, but standeth ever upright and ready before Thee Who made it; that new man, that is guiltless of this world's evil and free therefrom; that new man, in a word, that may continually fix its inward gaze on Thee its Saviour, Whom it hopeth by Thy grace to see clearly in a blessed eternity, and in eternal blessedness face to face.

THE TWENTY-SECOND CHAPTER

Jesus is led to Herod

After that Pilate had heard all the false and unjust accusations of the Jews, and had seen that they could show no cause of death in, Jesus, and when he had heard at the same time that Jesus was a Galilean, he sent Him to Herod, who then was ruler over Galilee. This was the fourth procession of Jesus, which He underwent in His Passion with sorrow unutterable. Oh! how those wicked men laboured, and what trouble they took, before they could deliver Jesus to death. For it could not be, that in that most pure gold, proved so, many times in the fire of affliction, they could find even one stain of any impurity whatsoever, even the slightest. Oh! with what ignominy and cruelty they led along the Lord of Majesty, to Whom is due all honour and glory, through the city in the sight of all, for the city was full of people. Hence; doubtless, men ran together in crowds in their eagerness to see Christ, and so the Lord of Majesty was made a spectacle to God and men. Some mocked at Him, and inflicted on Him grievous hurt, and sorely troubled Him. Others ran after Him, heaping shame and reproach upon Him. Oh! how they hurried along with our sweet Jesus, dragging Him from one judge to another. Oh! how sick and sore were all His limbs from weariness, and all that manifold affliction and cross, which He had undergone during that long night! How worn and hurt were His feet from the stones of the public places, as they hurried on with immoderate speed, and our Lord walked bare-foot?

Learn, then, O my soul, from thy Bridegroom, to deny thyself, and to subject thyself first of all to God, and in the next place to those who are set over thee, as standing in the place of God, and also, to all men whatsoever, out of love, that after the example of thy Bridegroom, thou mayest look on thyself as the least and the vilest of all, and mayest rejoice to be the hand-maid of the servants of Christ. For if thou wishest to be a pleasing bride unto Him, and to follow Him faithfully, then must thou strip thyself wholly of thine own will and choice, even as if thou hadst never known what it was to have any will of thine own. And thou must suffer thyself to be led from one to the other, far and near, to the highest and the lowest, within and without, and thou must be ever cheerfully obedient, and subject, however troublesome and hard, however painful and contrary it may be to thine own feeling, or judgment, or sensuality; even as Christ cheerfully gave Himself up to all those cruel torments, which were beyond measure painful to His tender complexion, and gladly suffered Himself to be dragged from judge to judge, from punishment to punishment, and underwent divers crosses and afflictions, one after the other. Nor did He ever draw up His face in wrinkles, or disdainful look, nor open His mouth to any complaint or murmuring. Our tender Lord regarded not the shame, or the crosses, or the wrongs which He suffered, but He was humbly obedient to His Father even unto death, and patiently submitted Himself to all the sorrows, and pains, and torments, which they inflicted on Him.

Thus, then, did those savage men lead Him to Herod. Now Herod, since he was a man full of curiosity, and puffed up, and had heard much about Christ's miracles, for a long time had been desirous to see Him. But not a word of answer could he obtain from Christ. For as he desired to see some miracle only out of vain curiosity, he was clearly unworthy to receive even a word or a sign from the Eternal Truth. Here then, again, those crafty and blood-thirsty Jews, like mad dogs, barked out their charges against Christ, and their condemnation of Him, and bringing false witnesses against Him, in order, by their loud discordant cries, to urge Herod on to judge and condemn the Christ. Yet, in the midst of all this, that gentle Lamb was humbly silent, and waited in patience for the chalice which His Father had prepared for Him.

Herod, then, when he saw that Jesus gave no sign nor answer, was troubled, and set Him at nought, and mocked Him with all his men of war, whereby our Lord Jesus suffered great shame and reproach. Of a truth, in all places, and at the hands of all, He suffereth persecution, contempt, and wrong. There is no man to relieve Him, or to show Him any kindness, or to compassionate Him in His affliction, or to speak to Him even one word of comfort. Young and old, little and great, servants and their lords, all rose up against Him; all with one accord vomited out upon Him their poisonous malice and falsehoods. All greedily thirsted for His death, and burned to shed His innocent Blood; for without pain and disgust they could not look upon Him. Thus was Christ our Lord clearly made the reproach of the world, and the outcast of the people. For Herod not only cast Him away from him with indignation, and shamefully treated Him, but he even clad Him in a white garment, as if He had been a fool, so as by this means to provoke the whole crowd at the same moment to mock Christ. And with such ignominy and confusion he sent Him back to Pilate. This is the fifth procession of our Saviour which He undertook during His Passion for our sins.

Here every man may think with himself, how full of misery was this procession of Christ, in which, after He had been thus shamefully mocked at, and set at nought by Herod, those vile servants and murderers in their turn mocked Him and ill-used Him with great contempt, some smiting Him, others trampling on Him with their feet; some dragging Him by His garments, while not a few behind His back vomited upon Him curses and shameful words. Nor need we speak of those other numberless reproaches, wrongs, and insults, by which those impure men were carried away against Him, of which no express mention is made in Holy Writ, nor have we any certain testimony. Yet because they were the sons of the devil, they treated Christ with all the malice which they could think of at the suggestion of their father.

Behold then, O my soul! with bitter grief thy Bridegroom, the Joy of heaven, the wisdom of the Father, the King of glory, thus shamefully brought down to confusion, and set at nought, so that He is now no longer a man, but an abject worm. Not only is He sentenced to death as a guilty malefactor, but even, like some poor idiot, is mocked at in His fool's garment. Oh! who hath such a heart of steel, as not to be softened at this? Be ashamed, ye proud men, who with heads lifted up on high, march on in your pride. Blush for shame, O ye who are wise in your own eyes, forgetting that you are only dung and ashes, and vessels of earthenware full of all uncleanness. Behold! the Lord of lords, in whom are hidden all the treasures of wisdom and knowledge, is mocked at as a fool; and ye yourselves, more senseless than the brute beasts, which praise their Creator according to their capacity and condition, and which observe moderation in eating and drinking, desire to be thought wise, and circumspect, and holy by men. Blush for shame; I say, O ye puffed up and proud sinners, who before God and all His saints are full of rottenness, who are wholly bent upon adorning your sack of dung and nest of worms with precious things, while the Lord of Majesty for your sake is set at nought, clad in a white and shameful garment, like a fool, and while He who is the loftiness of heaven vouchsafeth to be humbled.

And you, O ye wretched and puffed up sinners, to whom is due nought but eternal damnation, are lifted up and swollen with pride! Long ago the angels fell through pride, and were cast out of heaven, yet ye trust to be able to obtain heaven by pride. Our first parents fell into great wretchedness and misery through pride, and, driven out of paradise, were for five thousand years exiles from heaven, and prisoners in hell; yet we, notwithstanding, avoid not this accursed pest, this deadly and most hateful sin! Even this rotten body of ours, conceived of unclean seed, which one day will be cast out to be devoured by worms, we know not how too curiously to adorn, and to nourish with delicate and soft food, and to treat with every comfort and convenience. But our far nobler souls, in which God hath set up His dwelling-place, and which, born of God, and created to the image of the Most Holy Trinity, will again be brought into the presence of the Divine Majesty, we suffer to perish for hunger and want.

Let us, I pray, take example from our most loving Saviour, and let us walk in His footsteps in all lowliness, poverty, resignation, and patience; since He in His greatest need had no convenience, but hung all naked on the cross, with all His limbs so stretched and nailed thereto, that He could not even move a single limb, nor rest His head; and in His thirst He had gall and vinegar to drink, and in such great poverty gave up the ghost. If then He did all this for our sins, let us also, I pray, do somewhat for our iniquities.

THE TWENTY-THIRD CHAPTER

Christ, after having been set at nought by Herod, is led back to Pilate

From Herod those savage wretches led Christ back to Pilate, and again brought their cruel charges against Him, that they might obtain His death-warrant. Again they tried to deafen Pilate with their horrid cries, since they could bring forward no just reason or cause against our Lord. By shouts and threats they sought to drown the truth, and to overcloud reason, and to darken justice. But Pilate, when he saw that the Jews sought through mere hatred to put Jesus to death, and that Herod in like manner had found no cause of death in Him, left nothing untried in order to set our Lord free. And because he could not appease the Jews by reasoning, he asked of them, whether, according to their privilege, they would have Him released in honour of the Paschal solemnity. But with one voice they all cried out that they would rather have Barabbas. O, great blindness! O, insatiable fury of the Jews! O, unhappy exchange! They chose a wolf instead of a lamb, a wicked and hateful wretch instead of a just and innocent man, an impious one, and a thief, instead of the Author of life. In like manner, all those who desire to persevere in their sins, and fear not to offend God, and to transgress His holy commandments, deny and reject God, and choose some cruel robber, like the devil, who is the destroyer of the souls of all who consent to do his bidding.

Then Pilate asked what he should do with Jesus. And, with a horrid roar, they cried, "Crucify Him, crucify Him!" Pilate answered, "What evil hath He done? I find no cause of death in Him. But, to temper your burning rage and empoisoned hatred, and to quench a little your thirst of blood, even without cause I will chastise and correct Him, that peradventure ye may have compassion, and may cease to seek the death of this innocent Man, which He hath not deserved." Then Pilate delivered Christ to his ministers and torturers, that they might scourge Him.

Come now, O my soul, and see with mourning heart, how thy Bridegroom Jesus, the glory of heaven, is delivered into the cruel hands of vile servants, that they may carry out all their savage malice against Him. See how there are given to these raging and blood-thirsty dogs the power and the means of tearing to pieces that most pure, and noble, and virgin Body, and of shedding His royal Blood. See, how of His own will the Lord of lords gave Himself over, and subjected Himself to those abject wretches and vile slaves, suffering them to glut all their malice and cruel tyranny upon Him: and obedient to His Father in heaven, even to death, He opened not His blessed mouth to curse them, or to murmur, or to complain, nor did He stretch forth His hands to avenge Himself, nor did any change of face betray either anger or indignation. See this, all ye  religious, who are stiff-necked, puffed up, and proud, who have put on indeed the outward look of obedient and religious men, but who are inwardly without resignation, morose, and given up to your own will. And, indeed, ye show this forth when any command is laid upon you that is contrary to your ever-varying will, or your own judgment; for straightway ye break out into complaints, impatience, and murmuring; and by word, and look, and the very impatient carriage and gestures of the body, betray clearly enough the depth of your want of resignation, and how much ye love your own will. Nor have ye known how to curb that nature of yours, which, far from being dead, is given up to your senses, or to hide it under the shelter of religion; for you have never manfully conquered it, nor have ye brought your own will into servitude, and therefore both your nature and your will hold rule over you. And for this reason ye oftentimes let your passions overflow, and ye have no peace in your hearts. For your peace lasteth no longer than while it is with you, and you are permitted to do what ye gladly do, and to have what ye gladly have. But see, I pray you, how willingly Christ offered Himself to death, and with what love He seized the bitter chalice of His Passion, although His nature shrank from it exceedingly; and how of His own accord He went forth to meet His enemies, and gave Himself into their hands, and suffered Himself to be taken, saying, "I am He whom ye seek." Take example then from Him, and bend your proud and stiffened neck under the divine correction, and the commandments of God, and of those who are set over you, and who hold the place of God towards you, for ye may be sure that whatever contempt, or murmuring, or rebellion, your prelates may receive at your hand, will all be turned to the dishonour of our Lord God Most High.

Jesus is fearfully Scourged

From this the lictors and guards of the governor, mad with rage, took Christ, and savagely stripping Him of His garments, who is the maker of heaven and of all creatures, and who hideth the heaven with clouds, and giveth being to all, shamelessly left Him naked before all the people. There He stood, the fairest and most beautiful of men, clad only in His virgin shame and simple innocence. Oh, what a cross was this to His most pure heart, to be compelled to stand so shamefully in His nakedness before those vile wretches; for the more a man hath of true virtue, so much the more full is he of the shame of innocence. Then they bound Him so mercilessly to the pillar, that, as we read, His flesh hid altogether the cords by which He was bound, such was the tenderness and delicacy of His nature. Moreover, we find it written, that He was so cruelly bound, that the blood burst forth from His finger-nails. And this they did lest He should slip out of their hands, for they held Him to be a malefactor and an impostor. After this these cruel wild beasts, like savage lions, inhumanly tore Christ's fair and holy body; for they so scourged it, and ploughed it up with wounds, and mangled it with rods and all the other terrible scourges they could think of in their envious hearts, that He became wholly unlike Himself, His body being all covered with His blood, and with gaping wounds.

Nor was it only His skin that they tore with rods, but they mangled His sacred flesh by inhuman tortures, and so tore it to pieces, that all His body seemed to be left without skin, as those evil-minded ones added wound to wound, and pain to pain, and woe to woe. And when they had so cruelly torn one of His sides, so that nothing could be seen but blood and wounds, as certain doctors affirm, they loosed Him, and then bound Him again with His back to the pillar, His hands at the same time being fastened above His head. After this, they wounded by repeated scourging His sacred belly, which, as it had touched the pillar during the first scourging, was not so grievously hurt, and they tore it in like manner as they had torn His back. And the men who did this, peradventure, were fresh torturers. There were four of them, we read, and they vomited their cruelty upon Him, not less than the first had done, We may gather this, and prove it from those words of the prophet: "From the sole of His foot to the top of His head, there is no health in Him."

Meanwhile, let us think what His torment must have been during all this, when they tore out the cords which had eaten into His flesh, and then again forced them back into His flesh, and inhumanly struck and wounded Him afresh. S.: Bonaventure saith that Christ here received more than five thousand wounds. Of a truth, He was so disfigured and pitiable a sight, that not only His torturers were wearied with striking, but men were also wearied with looking at Him. Nevertheless, our gracious Saviour stood there full of kindness and burning love, patiently suffering all this affliction and punishment for our sins, and with exceeding great desire offering His fair and ruddy Body as a loving sacrifice to His Father in heaven. For never did He suffer so much for our salvation, as not to desire to suffer more for His Father's glory, and to testify to us the incomprehensible love of His Heart, and to make it known as clearly as He could in very deed. Nothing sound or whole was left in His Body, and still all the while His desire of suffering yet greater things remained in Him whole and without distraction. The torturers' scourges had torn His whole Body, yet in His patience love kept His Heart untouched. The torturers had grown weary of scourging Him, yet was not Christ wearied of desiring to suffer. His Blood, so precious to sinners, flowed down in large streams upon the earth, and His Spirit, in gratitude, was lifted up to His Father in heaven. His sacred Body lay under the scourges of sin, and the prayers of His Heart were carried by the angels to His Father in the heavenly places. His Flesh streamed down with Blood, and His Blood itself flowed down, but His groans and fiery desires, whereby He offered all this affliction to His Father for the sins of all mankind, went up on high. On every side He poured Himself out upon men, but with His whole strength, and with full and worthy reverence and praise, He stretched Himself upwards to the high presence of His Father in heaven. Below poor man, sick and ill, drank in the medicine of life; and above, the Father rejoiced in the patience of His Son. Man received that by which he will be saved for ever, and God the Father that by which He will be praised through all eternity. The Son of God was wounded in His Body, that the souls of men might recover salvation. From all His limbs there flowed forth Blood, that He might pour the same, as a health-giving balm, into our wounds. The grape-cluster was hung on the staff, that He might make us certain and sure of the land of promise. The cluster was pressed in the wine-press, that He might make us drunken with His love. The bowl was broken in pieces, that the oil of mercy might begin to flow out. He dyed the tunic of His Body in purple, that as our Bridegroom of singular beauty, He might provoke us to love Him. Grievously did He suffer in His Body, and sorely was He afflicted, that He might make us glad in spirit. He was forsaken of His Father, that we might be taken back into His Father's grace. His body was damp with His warm Blood, that He might prepare for us a bath, wherein we might be thoroughly washed and cleansed from every stain of sin. His warm Blood boiled over from His sacred Body, that He might cause our cold and hardened hearts to melt in His love. Like water He was poured out, that our spirit might swim in the delights of His grace. Nothing in His whole Body remained whole, that nothing hurtful, nothing foul, nothing that was not whole, might remain in our souls. And although on all sides He was so stricken by more than human suffering, that by reason of the excellence and tenderness of His nature and complexion, every blow pierced His Heart; nevertheless, His will was so subject both to God and men, and His burning desire to accomplish to the full all that His Father required of Him, and to redeem man, was so great in Him beyond all measure; in a word, He was so taken prisoner by love, that He could utter no complaint. For He could do nothing but love, and suffer for love.

O my soul! and as many as love God, who have been redeemed by the precious Blood of Christ Jesus, and washed from your sins, come and see, with inward grief, all that God suffered for our sins, all that He underwent for our iniquities. And if this doth not bring compunction to your hearts, nor move them, then account yourselves harder than steel or stone. See how the King of glory was here wounded and disfigured for your crimes. What more do ye require of Him? If this is not enough, He is ready to suffer even more. Think ye that there remained in His Body anything unhurt or sound? Behold! He will gladly accept even death for your sins, and will suffer His Blood to be shed to the very last little drop. Yea! He will let His Heart be pierced for your sakes, that He may throw it open to you, and make known His exceeding love. Oh! who can ever find us forgetful of His measureless love? Marvellous indeed it is, that our hearts are not melted at this most burning love! How ever can we cease from praising Him and giving Him thanks, or who can busy himself with any other care, than to return in some poor little way love for love? Why is it hard for us to taste some little drop of myrrh for His sake, Who suffered Himself to be swallowed up whole in a very sea of suffering for our sakes? Or how can it be ever a grievous thing for us to bear in mind His Passion, which it was not grievous for Him to undergo? O sweet Jesus, what tenderness hath overcome Thy Heart, what love hath swallowed it up, that Thou hast willed to suffer so bitter and ignominious a Passion for us wretched sinners? Why didst Thou not spare Thyself altogether, when it would have been enough indeed, so excellent and of such exceeding worth was Thy Passion, to have shed one little drop of Thy precious Blood? Why didst Thou cast Thyself so utterly away, and expose Thyself, and suffer Thyself in so humble a way to be well nigh brought down to nothing? O loving Jesus, Thou hast wished this to show forth Thy out-flowing and utterly measureless love for us, with which, from the beginning, Thou hast loved us. This is why Thou gavest Thyself wholly for us, that in our turn we might give ourselves wholly to Thee, and love Thee back again with our whole strength and all our power.

O Almighty Father, who am I, a poor vile man and worthless sinner, that Thou, for my sake, shouldst not spare even Thine Only-Begotten One? How precious, how dear was my soul in Thine eyes, for which Thou gavest so noble a pledge, and which Thou hast redeemed by so precious a treasure? How hast Thou loved me from everlasting, that Thou wouldst rather that Thy Son should be wounded, and wearied, and afflicted, and tortured, and the last spark of His human life put out, than that I should perish? And how could Thy fatherly Heart suffer, O gracious Father, to see Thy beloved Son, God co-eternal and co-equal with Thee, overwhelmed by such more than mortal torments, a spectacle of woe even to His enemies? Thou comest to the help of all who are afflicted and oppressed, Thou hast pity on thieves and robbers, lending them aid even when they suffer for their sins and trespasses; why then wert Thou not by the side of the Son of Thy love? Why didst Thou not comfort Him in His sore distress? Why didst Thou forsake Him, O Father of mercies? Why were not the bowels of Thy fatherly compassion moved for the grievous and intolerable affliction of Thy only-begotten One? Why didst Thou not withdraw Him from the hands of the Jews? Why didst Thou not temper His sorrow by pouring sweetness into His Heart, as Thou hast done to Thy holy martyrs in their agony? Of a truth, O most merciful Father, Thou hast done this in Thy divine justice, and wisdom, and goodness, that the resignation and patience of Thy beloved Son might be shown forth more clearly in our eyes, that the power and merit of His Passion might not be lessened, that the salvation of mankind might be vigorously, mightily, and perfectly accomplished, and that, lastly, the debt of the human race might be paid in lavish abundance. It was because Thou wouldst show forth Thy burning love towards us, that Thou didst not spare the very last little drop of the Blood of Thy beloved Son.

Clearly, had not Christ's Death and Passion been enough to save man, both the Father of heaven and the Holy Ghost would also have taken on them our human nature, and died for man, rather than have suffered him to perish. Moreover, although the Son alone became man, and suffered a bitter death for man, yet the love and tenderness of the Father and the Holy Ghost were not the less shown forth in our regard, for in the Trinity of Persons there is one essence, one love, one operation common to all, one and the same will. The adorable and most holy Trinity took counsel together concerning the redemption of the human race, and agreed together in decreeing that man should be redeemed; and because for none of the Three Persons was it so fitting to take our human nature, as for the Son, therefore both by His own free will, and by the will of the Father, and by the persuasion of the Holy Ghost, He came upon earth; He Who was the Almighty Creator, became man, was made a creature, by the cooperation both of the Father and of the Holy Ghost. For Christ was conceived of the Holy Ghost by the cooperation of the Father. He saith Himself: "I work nothing of Myself; but My Father, Who abideth in Me, He it is Who doeth the works." Now that the love of the Son towards us is the same as that of the Father, and of the Holy Ghost, is clearly enough shown to us by the Father, from the very fact that He delivered His own Son to death for our sakes; and Christ Himself beareth witness to this, when He saith: "For the Father also loveth you." And of the Holy Ghost the Apostle saith: And the Spirit Himself asketh for us with groanings that cannot be uttered;" that is, inspireth, moveth, and exciteth us to pray, and to give ourselves to virtue. And the Spirit beareth witness to our spirit, that we are the sons of God, so that, in the joy of this inward witness we may cry in the same spirit, "Abba, Father!" But what can be more blessed and delightful in this valley of tears, than for man, out of the testimony of the Holy Ghost in his own conscience, to call God his Father? For if we are sons, then are we Christ's brethren, and joint-heirs with Him.

See then, O my soul! what care the Adorable Trinity hath taken of thee. Behold, how from everlasting God hath loved thee! Consider this, I pray you, O ye cold and hard-hearted children of Adam! `Think at how dear a price He hath bought you. The noblest gift that God's Heart could conceive, the mightiest offering that God's power could give, this He hath offered for you, nay, daily offereth in the adorable Sacrament. And as of old the Father of Heaven spared not His only-begotten Son, but offered Him to death, and that the most shameful death of the cross, for the sins of men; so even now there is not a moment, when He doth not in like manner offer Him for our sins in the most noble Sacrament of the Eucharist. And as Christ was made obedient unto the Father, even unto death, so to-day, and until the last day, He is obedient, not only to God the Father, but to all who, with faithful hearts, and longing desires, love God, and cleave to Him. But because there was no need that He should again suffer death, since His sacred death reacheth unto all sins that have ever been committed, or shall still be committed; nevertheless He ceaseth not to offer daily His Sacred Body, and His noble soul, and His precious Blood, together with all the merits of His Life and Passion, in the worshipful Sacrament of the Altar, for the remission of our sins, and in memory of His Passion and Death. Of a truth He teacheth us by this, that, were it necessary, He is still ready to-day to give His worshipful Body and Blood over to death, for the sake of our salvation. For the same love which Christ then had for us, still endureth in Him, and will endure for ever.

Where then, I ask, is there such a heart of stone, as not to be moved to compunction at all this? Where is the spirit that will not rejoice at love such as this? Where is the heart that will not wholly melt away in the heat of this burning clarity? Where is the man whose understanding will not faint, for exceeding wonder, when he contemplateth God's measureless love and goodness towards us, when he perceiveth with the eyes of his heart, and searcheth the recesses of his conscience, or weigheth in the balance the mighty benefits which God hath conferred, and daily conferreth upon us poor wretched men; for of a truth they are so great, that greater can hardly be? See how Christ's gracious arms are stretched out to receive us! And His wounds are ever open, ready to pour forth upon all whatever they desire. The banners of His mercy are ever unfolded, so that we may take shelter and lie hidden beneath them, for He is ever ready to receive us. More than this, He loveth us so very much, that by divine drawings, and inspirations, and inward warnings, He asketh for us more than we ask for ourselves, for He is indeed far more ready to give than we to pray.

What need of multiplying words? Of a truth, it is no small sorrow to Him, that His wounds are dried up, and can no longer bleed down mercy upon us, since very few there are, alas! who desire this with their whole hearts. Wherefore, beyond doubt, He will one day prove Himself a stern judge to those who now neglect His loving-kindness and mercy, since He burneth with such love for man, that He confesseth that His delights are to be with the children of men. If, then, with hearts meet and ready, we would suffer Him to accomplish His work and His will within us, beyond all doubt, in His exceeding goodness, He would Himself with all His gifts flow down upon us. For God is a well of living water, ever leaping up, never ceasing to flow, save when vessels are wanting to receive it. And by one link of love doth He Himself eagerly desire to be united to man, and to build up within us His own delightful dwelling-place and longed-for temple. Nay, He longeth to be united to man by love, with an exceeding great longing, just as if He had utterly forgotten His power and majesty, and only cared to be made like to man in all things. And how could He have raised us higher, and cast Himself down lower than He hath done? How could He have united us unto His Godhead more closely than He hath actually united us, when He linked together His most high and immortal nature with our mortal humanity, by taking on Him our nature? Nor is this all, for day by day, also, He giveth His most high Godhead, and all that He is, to be our food. How, then, could He have joined Himself to us in a more inward manner, than by His desire to become our food? For nothing is so closely bound up with a man as the food which passeth into his substance.

Moreover, God the Father hath also bestowed something more upon us, when He raised up our human nature in Christ as high as it could be raised, and by lifting it high above all creatures to His own Right Hand, so that our nature, which of old had been cursed, and sentenced to damnation, now became blessed, and hallowed, and wonderfully exalted above all the blessed; and what had formerly been the laughing-stock of the demons in hell, is now adored by the angels in heaven. How, then, could God have treated us with greater honour and glory, or shown us more overflowing love? Of a truth, we have obtained, through Christ our Lord and Saviour, far richer salvation and glory than we lost through Adam, our first father. What more can we desire from our sweet Lord? To every man, above all to him who cleaveth unto and loveth Him with his whole heart, He is as greatly and closely attached, as if He had forgotten the heavens and the earth, and all that in them is, and had wholly perished for very love of him. This is why the loving soul crieth out in the Canticle of Canticles: "My Beloved to me, and I to Him." And so great and measureless is God's love towards the soul of man, that He seemeth to love none else but him. Yet not even by all these kindnesses and acts of love can God draw us to Himself, or move us, or inflame us with His love; so infected are our hearts with sensual love, and painted over with the likenesses of created things, and so given up to temporal goods and to the blandishments of this world, so greatly also do they pant after honours, and desire to obey and satisfy their nature in its search after pleasure. By these and such other like things, we are so held and hindered, that there lieth open to us no approach to God by love. Yea! the heavens and the earth weep for this, because men have fallen so low, that they have left their Creator to love the creature; that they have forsaken the highest and chief good, which is God Himself, to lovingly embrace the earth, and the slime of earth; that they would rather be the slaves of demons, than the sons of God, that they would rather be friends of the world, than lovers of Christ; that, in a word, it is a more pleasant thing for them to be a nest of unclean spirits, than the temple of the Holy Ghost. Ah! ah! let us love Him, I beseech of you, who hath embraced us with such measureless love, and on the other hand, by every means in our power, let us despise him, together with all his counsels and suggestions, who is the relentless murderer of souls, and who is wholly bent upon leading us with him to the place of torment everlasting.

THE TWENTY-FIFTH CHAPTER

A devout prayer for the forgiveness of sins, and for resignation, and the love of Jesus

O Most merciful Lord Jesus Christ, behold I, a wretched and vile sinner, cast myself, with all the humility that I can, into Thy footprints, and with entire faith and full trust in Thy measureless goodness, and with inward sorrow for all my sins, with deep sighs, bitter contrition, and burning tears, I confess to Thee all the iniquities of my past life. O gracious Jesus, by Thine infinite mercy, have pity on me, I pray; open to me the bowels of Thy loving-kindness; turn to me, a poor sinner, and guilty worm of earth, the eyes of Thy divine grace and clemency. For to whom, O sweet Jesus, laden as I am with, and buried in, numberless sins, can I fly for refuge, save to Thee, who art full of mercy? Therefore, all my evils, all my ingratitude, sensuality, anger, disobedience, levity, want of mortification, and lust; all these together I throw into the abyss of Thy divine mercy and grace, and into the sacred and bleeding Wounds which in this horrible torment Thou hast received for my salvation; and I pray Thee, O my God, that Thou wouldst so wash away all these in Thy precious and most pure Blood, that no remembrance of them may endure before Thee.

O loving Jesus, my only comfort, I come to Thee with the full and earnest desire of loving Thee fervently, and of avoiding all that may draw me away from Thy love, so that I may deserve to be made one with Thee in affection, and will, and love. For Thou art all my hope; Thou art my consolation and my refuge. However much I may be troubled and cast down by my sins, yet am I no less gladdened and lifted up by Thy measureless goodness, and the merits of Thy most Sacred Passion. For whatever I have done wrong, hath been blotted out by Thy most bitter Death. Whatever is wanting to me, is abundantly filled up in me by the merits of Thy most holy Incarnation and Passion. And although my sins be great and numberless, yet are they little when compared with Thy measureless mercy. Wherefore, I trust in Thy infinite goodness, that Thou wilt never suffer me to perish, whom Thou hast created to Thine own image and likeness. Oh! despise me not, whose flesh, and blood, and brother, Thou hast vouchsafed to become. I hope, too, that Thou wilt never condemn me, whom Thou hast redeemed with such labour, and bought for so dear a ransom. O gentle Jesus! in Whom my soul trusteth, and Whom from the most inward marrow of my heart, I desire to love, make me now to feel Thy tenderness and loving-kindness, for Thou art not ignorant of my frailty. Thy Father in heaven judgeth no man, but He hath given over all my sins to Thy judgment. The Holy Spirit also hath given all judgment to Thee, and whatever I have done wrong against Him, by neglecting His grace, by not obeying His instincts, by not following His attractions, by not fulfilling His requirements and vocation, and lastly, by hindering, times without number, His loving work, by my own selfishness, and restless busy-doing; – all this He hath left to Thee, and cast it all upon Thee. All my salvation is in Thy hand; whatsoever Thou pardonest is forgiven. So long as Thou wilt, O sweet Jesus, there will never be wanting to me the means of salvation. O pitiful Jesus, have mercy upon me, for Thy Holy Name's sake! For what else is the meaning of this Thy name, Jesus, sweeter than honey, and the honey-comb, except a "Saviour"? Wherefore, O good Jesus, be to me Jesus. Why wilt Thou be angry with the leaf which is blown about by the wind; why wilt Thou punish the withered straw? Why wilt Thou be forgetful of me, who am but a frail vessel of clay, which Thine own hands have made? Although I have offended Thee, yet am I a man wholly conceived in iniquity. Let Thy grace come down upon me, and Thy Wounds flow over me; let the healing balm of Thy Precious Blood be near my soul, and I shall be safe, for I am ready to fulfil Thy most gracious will. What wilt Thou have me to do, Lord? Behold! I offer my whole self to Thee, my body, soul, senses, memory, understanding, will, and all that I am, and I am ready to bear whatever Thou wouldst have me bear in time and eternity, want and abundance, abandonment and suffering. O Jesus, my only Love, grant that I may love Thee from my heart, and nothing do I ask, except to love Thee perfectly. Suffer me to be Thy lover. Thou hast commanded me, indeed, to love Thee with my whole heart, but give what Thou hast commanded, and command what Thou wilt. Pierce, I pray Thee, this heart of mine, with the sweet dart of Thy fiery love, that I may languish for love of Thee all the days of my life. Grant that I may love Thee from my heart, as Thou wouldst Thyself have me love Thee. Make me to see, O my God, how much Thou lovest me, that my whole life long, and with my whole strength, I may strive to return Thy love, and satisfy it. O kind Jesus, so fill and inebriate my heart with Thy sweet love, that all the world may be turned for me into a disgust and a cross. O loving Jesus, I long to love Thee, to receive Thee, to eat Thee, to embrace Thee with the arms of my soul, to treasure Thee up in my inmost heart, where no man can take Thee from me, where I may enjoy Thee alone, and where I may rest with Thee in peace, never more to be troubled. There Thou wilt give me richly to drink of the river of Thy heavenly and divine doctrine; there Thou wilt teach me Thy more secret paths, whereby I may come to Thee in all safety and certainty; there Thou wilt be wholly my leader, and Thou wilt hide me in Thy sweet wounds, and in Thy loving Heart, until the winter of sin is over and past, and the cruel storm of temptation is hushed, and the bright sun of Thy divine grace shineth through the whole depth of my soul, setting my heart utterly on fire, and causing it to flourish in all virtue. Amen.

THE TWENTY-SIXTH CHAPTER

Jesus is crowned with thorns

After that our Saviour had been so fearfully scourged, and hurt, and tortured, that no part in all His body remained whole, and His body itself was one wide gaping wound, dreadful to behold, they loosed Him from the pillar, and led Him about naked, and streaming with blood, looking for His garments, which, after they had stripped Him, they had scattered over the court out of anger and malice. Come, then, and let us see in what misery our loving Jesus walked along, full of sorrows, trembling with cold, streaming with blood, so that every step He took was marked with His red Blood. This is what the Prophet meant, when speaking in the person of the Angel, or of loving souls, to our Lord, he said "Why is Thy garment red, and Thy vestment like the vestments of those who tread the wine-press?" Jesus answereth: "My vestments are red, O My bride, because I have trodden the wine-press alone." See now, O my soul! burning as thou art with the love of God, see now, I pray thee, with inward compassion, how thy Beloved is being treated. Thou indeed hast sinned through pleasure, and Christ hath been punished in thy stead by mighty torments. Thou hast obeyed the lusts of flesh and blood, and Christ hath given over His own Flesh and Blood to such inhuman pains, for thy trespasses and sins. Moreover, when our Lord was putting on His clothes, these servants of the devil took counsel one with the other, and said: "That seducer proclaimed Himself a King, let us, then, treat Him as a King, and crown Him." And straightway the whole cohort was pressed back into the praetorium, and Jesus along with it, so that He might be held up for scorn and mockery before all the people, and thus might be put to greater confusion. Then, again, with exceeding savageness they tore off His garments, which He had hardly time to put on, and clad Him in a purple or scarlet robe. Next, they plaited a crown of thorns, and pressed it down on His sacred Head, and gave Him a reed to hold in His hand, in place of a sceptre; and they bent their knees before Him, and did Him mock reverence, saying: "Hail, King of the Jews."

Go then forth, O ye daughters of Sion, and see the true Solomon in the diadem with which His Mother crowned Him in the day of His Heart's joy. Truly He hath loved us, and He Himself hath carried our feebleness, Himself hath borne our infirmities. Oh! with no common compassion let us go and look on Him, and see how fearful were the torments which the Son of God here underwent for our sills. Let us draw heavy sighs from our inmost breast, let all our members, all our veins, burst forth into tears, because we have been the cause of these sufferings. Let our heart melt for sorrow, and be all dissolved in tears, because we have crowned God, our Maker, so cruelly with our accursed sins.      

Of a truth, all these thorns plaited together, what are they but our cruel sins, which we have heaped one upon the other? By these do we day by day mercilessly wound the worshipful Head of Christ, and inflict upon Him far greater pain and reproach than they who tortured Him by these pains at the time of His Passion. For of them is it written "If they had known Him, they would never have crucified the Lord of glory." But we both have known this Almighty King, and have clearly before us His will and commandments, yet we refuse to obey Him. We are not ashamed to resist so powerful a Lord, and to despise His commandments, yet He seeketh nothing but our salvation, and that we may be joints heirs with Him in His Father's kingdom, and that His Blood, and Passion, and labour may redound to our salvation. Oh! who can ever find words to express with how intolerable a sorrow our Lord Jesus was seized, when that fearful crown of thorns Was pressed down upon His Head? For as some affirm, that crown was formed of sea-thorns, which are exceeding sharp and stiff. Nor, indeed, were they few in number, but they plaited them together into the form of a cap or helmet, so that the thorns were in great part fastened to the head, and with such great force and cruelty did they press down this fearful crown upon Christ's sacred Head, that, as S. Bernard saith, the thorns pierced into the brain, and penetrated through the veins, and nerves, and bones of the Head, so that His Blood became mixed up with His Sacred Brain, and flowed down in streams over His Face, and neck, and hair. Here let every one weigh with himself what must have been this pain. For if even one large thorn was fixed upon a man's head, what would be the state of that man's mind? Yet of a truth, as Anselm saith, "Christ's worshipful Head was punctured by a thousand thorns." Oh! let us impress His poor suffering form or image upon our hearts, so that It may never leave it more. Ah! how disfigured was this most beautiful of created forms! How destitute of all comeliness and beauty was Christ's fair face, all swollen, as it was, from the numberless blows and wounds of that night, and torn by the finger-nails of His tormentors, and made foul with their spittle, which had flowed down upon it, and then became a hardened mass. See, too, how it hath been watered by that last fresh stream of blood mingled with brain, so that our Saviour's face was become so pitiable an object, that man cannot even picture it to himself! Of a truth, we should pity even some brute beast, were we to see it treated thus. Hence our Lord saith to the soul, in the Canticle of Canticles: "Open to Me thy heart, My sister, My dove, My bride, and let My bitter Passion touch it; for My Head is full of the dew, and My hair with the dew-drops of the night, that is, of sins; for My Head is damp with blood, and this for thy sins."

Yet not even was all this blood-shedding enough for these cruel dogs, nor all this torture; no, nor even Christ's marvellous patience; none of these was enough to move them to compassion; but their mad hatred was still more inflamed with malice, so that they spat again on Christ's disfigured countenance, which they had so woefully ill-treated, and all the reproach, and contempt, and annoyance, and spurn, and slight, that they could conceive in their devilish hearts, all this they inflicted on this gentle Lamb. They wagged their heads, they gnashed with their teeth against Him in the very madness of their rage, as the prophet saith, for they knew not what affliction and pain, or what contempt they could heap upon Him. Their devilish heart was ever desirous of torturing Him more, nor could they glut their thirst for His Blood with even torments such as these. Hence, again, they bent their knees to Him in mockery, and adored Him, saying, "Hail, King of the Jews."

Then, because Christ bore all this with marvellous patience, so as not even once to turn away His face from their blows and spittle, they were stirred up to such fury, that leaping from the ground, and seizing the reed out of His hand, they inflicted horrible blows upon His Head, whereby the points of the thorns were fixed deeper into His sacred brain, so that the pain of this reached even to His Heart, and His precious Blood flowed down abundantly over His dear face and neck. Yet all the while that innocent Lamb sat there full of love, and bore with exceeding patience all this utterly inhuman affliction and pain for our foul sins, for the glory of His Eternal Father. O ye proud, ye foul sinners, weigh well, I pray you, with yourselves, how great must have been your sins, that they had to be atoned for by such a chastisement, and by chastisement so exceeding great. Had not the Eternal Father been grievously offended, never would the Son of God have suffered thus. Had not your sins been clearly unto death, never would the Son of God have died to blot them out. Wherefore, let every sinner go down into his own heart, and there, with deep sighs and bitter tears, let him confess and acknowledge that he himself is the cause of these Christ's cruel torments. For of a truth, as we have sinned, so Christ desired to suffer. It is because men take exceeding pains to adorn their heads in order to appear well-favoured before men, and because they take pride in this, that Christ Jesus was so fearfully tortured in His Head, so that He might atone for these sins of men.

He was clothed also in a purple or scarlet robe. Purple is the dye of fishes, which live in the dew of heaven, and it signifieth tenderness of heart, since this virtue sheweth a man's blood through all his veins, and gladdeneth and enlighteneth his heart, and setteth his spirit on fire with compassion and love. The man who is tender of heart swimmeth in the delights of grace, like a fish in water, and a tender heart liveth upon the dew of heaven, that is, on the inflowing of the Holy Ghost. All this, indeed, we can see in Christ. For during the time of His Passion He was young and beautiful, full of all grace and love, for He performed all His works out of a loving, glad, tender, and cheerful heart, to the glory of His Eternal Father; and He shed His precious Blood even to the last little drop, for the salvation of His creatures. And when the Jews could not kill this noble fish on that high and solemn feast-day, the vestment of His Body was dyed in purple colour. Thus, too, in that He was clad in a scarlet robe, that is, in a red garment, twice dyed with the blood of little worms, is shown forth to us His love, which addeth ornament to all virtues, and this we ought also to have for our chief and upper garment. And His garment was of two colours, and twice dyed, so as to unite us both to God and our neighbour by love, just as fire joineth to itself whatever it can burn, and transformeth it into its own likeness. Thus, also, every one who is humble and little in his own eyes, chooseth to be as a poor little worm, and burning with love towards his God, staineth his robe with scarlet, when for God's glory, and his neighbour's profit and salvation, he wasteth his own blood. For the fiery love with which he burneth towards God, yearning to promote His highest honour, and to increase His praise, and his ardent desire to lead all men to the highest blessedness, whereby God may be praised by them for all eternity; these, I say, are so great and vehement in such a man, that they inwardly melt and consume him, and cause him to pour himself forth outwardly, so that he embraceth all men, especially those who are oppressed by misery or calamity, in such burning love and charity, that he would desire to suffer the torments of hell for all men, if this seemed good to God, and could give Him honour; even as Moses, for the sake of the children of Israel, desired to be blotted out of the book of life, and as Paul desired to become an anathema for his brethren. Thus then did Christ. He humbled Himself in our nature beneath all men whatsoever; He called Himself not a man, but a worm, born of the clay of earth, in that He Himself had taken upon Him human nature, of that goodly earth, the Virgin Mary. Moreover, He took blood and marrow of bone out of love, in order that He might work the highest deeds of love for the glory of God His Father, and the salvation of all mankind. This was why Christ Jesus, the humble lover of souls, wore a bridal garment of purple and scarlet; namely, as a clear proof and sign of His unutterable tenderness and incomprehensible love. And on that day of His espousals, He wore a crown of green, adorned with red roses, that is, crimsoned by His own red Blood, for He would show to us that He is a tender and gentle King, and the true Prince of love.

THE TWENTY-SEVENTH CHAPTER

A prayer for enlightenment

O Jesus, Mirror of eternal truth! Light that enlighteneth every man that cometh into the world; Light that shinest in the darkness; Light in which there is no darkness at all; Light to which no other light can add; Light before which every other light is as it were not; Light that givest increase to all light; Light from which all things receive light; Light that createst all light, preservest all light, rulest all light! O Light, which Tobias saw, when, with closed eyes, he taught his son the way of life! Light, which Isaac inwardly saw, when, with misty eyes, he told his son the things which were to be! Light, by which all the prophets were enlightened, that they might know the secret things which were to come to pass long afterwards, and prophecy of hidden sacraments and mysteries! Light, that saidst: "Let there be light, and there was light." Behold! darkness covereth the face of my heart, so that I cannot see the light of heaven. Say, therefore, to my soul: "Let there be light, and there shall be light." For straightway in glittering splendour there shall beam forth shining rays from Thee, the true and fontal light, into the abyss of my heart, into the depths of my soul, and my night shall be turned into clear day.

O Light above all understanding! So light me up with Thy brightness, that I may contemplate Thee, my God, in Thyself, and myself in Thee, and all things beneath Thyself. O Light that canst not deceive, and canst not be deceived, to Whom nothing is hid, to Whom alone the hearts of all the sons of men lie open and clear; enlighten, I beseech Thee, the secret recesses of my heart, that I may find out my secret sins, which lie hidden within them; and not those sins alone, which have been conceived of the enemy's vicious seed, but also those propensities and hidden roots of the soul, which have generated within me, and caused to spring up anew the enemy's hurtful seed, whereby Thy work in me is hindered and delayed, virtues are kept under, and the little garden of my heart, which is tilled for Thy consolation, is given up to shameful weeds, and becometh untilled and rough.

O most luminous Truth! who can rightly understand his own sins? Who can clearly discern what is pleasing or unpleasing to Thee, what is suggested by Thy Spirit, or advised by our own spirit of sensuality? Of a truth without Thee all things are vicious, frail, and unclean; without Thee, all is darkness to me; without Thee, there is for me no truth, no judgment, no knowledge, no discernment. As long as Thy light is absent, vanity seemeth to be truth, and wickedness justice, and vice virtue. For with my growth, ignorance hath grown; my iniquities are multiplied more than the hairs of my head; 1 have tried to see, and could not. The mist of impure thoughts hath so darkened my heart, that I cannot gaze at the light of Thy grace. Blind, I am led down to hell. All! my God! grant that I may see; enlighten my inward eyes, lest ever I should sleep in death, and the enemy should say: "I have prevailed against him?" Tear asunder the great veil, which hath obtruded itself between Thee, my God, and me, Thy servant. Open my blindfolded eyes, that I may know the way of truth, and keep to Thy sacred foot-prints. O Jesus, bright Sun of Justice, exceeding bright, enlighten me who sit in darkness, and who dwell in the shadow of death; direct my feet into the way of peace, by which I may come to the place of Thy wonderful tabernacle, to Thy great dwelling-place, with the prayer of compassion, and the song of rejoicing. O well-spring of exhaustless loving-kindness, from which flow all grace and goodness; let there flow forth, I beseech Thee, the rich dew of Thy bounty on my parched and withered soul, before it die; for my virtue is dried up like a potsherd. Help Thy wretched creature, that Thine Almighty Goodness hath made. O source of my being! Thou hast made me out of nothing, and behold I return into nothing, unless Thou govern and preserve me. When I had perished, Thou didst redeem me; but again I perish, unless Thou succour me. For Thou art the Word of God, by Whom all things are made, and without Whom nothing is made, and behold! without Thee, I am nothing. O tender Jesus, Who shrinkest not from coming down from heaven, to build up again what had become ruined, come down even to my wretched soul, corrupted though it he, and dead in sins, that by Thee I may be born again. Without Thee we have no life in us. Let me hear Thy sweet voice, at which the dead come to life, and the wicked spirits are put to flight, and all sicknesses are healed, that my spirit also may be healed by Thee, and stirred up, and that it may rejoice with joy beyond all measure, in worthy praise and thanksgiving.

O, mirror of divine brightness, purify my inward eyes, that they may be male fit to contemplate Thee. For it was for this that Thy loving face was made foul with spittle and blood, and was buffeted and smitten. It was for this that Thou Thyself wert left without any beauty; because Thou wouldst cleanse the face of my heart, and make it pure from every stain in Thy precious Blood. It was for this, too, that T1iiae outward eyes were veiled and covered during Thy Passion, because Thou wouldst uncover the inward gaze of my understanding, and strip it naked of all distractions, and images, and multiplicity of objects, and of all that can come between Thee and it; so that with a naked understanding and a clear gaze, I might look on Thy eternal Godhead, and on Thee, the source of my being, and that I might ever have my spirit naked and uncovered, a living and brilliant mirror, as it were, wherein I might catch the outward likeness of Thy divine image; and that I might set no other object before the eye of my heart, than that bleeding Body of Thine, and Thy disfigured Face, and Thy thorn-crowned Head; and that at the same time, by means of this Thy pitiable and painful image, I might vigorously despise all pride and vanity of this world, and the applause and favour of men.

O most merciful God, grant me so much knowledge of Thyself as is necessary for me, in order to obtain a true love for Thee; for, indeed, I love Thee, and long more and more to love Thee. Wound my heart with the dart of Thy love, and grant that I may love Thee with such ardour as that with which Thou wishest to be loved by me. For nothing is sweeter to me than to love Thee, my God; and nothing more bitter, than to be held back from and kept a stranger to Thy love by anything whatsoever. For all that is beneath Thee is to me a cause of great want, and an affliction; nay more, it is a deadly enemy that desireth to tear me from Thy sweet and beloved Heart. Moreover; without Thee, I am a heavy cross to myself, and an intolerable hell.

O unquenchable fire of love, Thou love that ever burnest, and never canst be put out, set me also on fire, burn into my whole being, that in myself I may wholly fall away, and be wholly transformed by Thy love; melt my whole being, that I may wholly lose myself in Thee. Consume me wholly, O my God, in the fire of Thy burning love, that utterly forgetful of my own self and of all that is in the world, I may, with the arms of love, embrace Thee, the highest and most excellent Good. I pray Thee, Lord, by Thy loving-kindness, to graft me into Thyself, and unite me to Thee, that I may become one with Thee, and rest for ever in Thee, the one Eternal. Amen.

Christ is shown to the people by the Governor, with the words: "Behold the Man!"

After that Jesus had been thus inhumanly treated, and all the poisonous malice of the Jews had been poured out upon Him, yet not even then did their raging madness and hatred wax cold, nor was their thirst of blood quenched. Not satisfied with having thus shamefully mocked and set at nought the Son of God in the sight of all who were in the judgment hall, they would have Him led out before the gaze of all the people, who, for fear of pollution, had not dared to enter in; for Pilate was a heathen and profane, and it was not lawful for the Jews to come under his roof. They were afraid of becoming polluted by entering into a heathen man's house, yet they had no fear of calling down Christ's innocent Blood upon themselves. They desired to eat the Paschal Lamb, yet they feared not unjustly to put the true Paschal Lamb to death. Pilate, therefore, brought forth Jesus in His cruel agony, and set Him before the gaze of that raging crowd, saying: "Behold the Man! Behold I lead Him forth to you." See how grievously He hath been treated, how fearfully He hath been scourged.

Let us now observe, and this with great compassion, how pitiably our Lord stood there, covered with a shameful garment that might well excite their laughter, His crown of thorns upon His Head, His sceptre a reed, His Wounds gaping, His limbs worn and wearied, His poor Body horrible to see, trembling with cold, and sledding large drops of blood. Let us look, too, with inward sorrow, on His loving face, on which the angels desire to gaze; how pitiably it is swollen from the cruel blows, how torn and scratched by the finger-nails of His tormenters, how stained and discoloured with mingled blood and brain, how foul with spittle, so that He hath almost lost the form of man. Oh! of a surety, he who is not moved by this, is harder than steel and adamant. When, then, Pilate had led Him forth before the people, he said: "Ecce homo!" "Behold the Man!"

This can be interpreted in divers ways. The Father of heaven hath indeed loved us from all eternity, and it is His will that we should give Him love for love, according to our poor measure. This is why He said to the soul of man: "Ecce homo. Behold the man." Look upon Him, that thou mayest be looked upon by Him; love, that thou mayest be loved; acknowledge Him, that He may acknowledge thee. "Behold My only-begotten One beareth fullest testimony of My love for thee, since I have given Him all for thee. Neither His Body, nor His soul, nor His Blood, were so dear to Me, that I could hesitate to give Him for thy sake. Nay, if I could have found in My fatherly Heart anything better or more precious, that would I have given for thee. Behold the Man! In the manhood of My Son, I have given thee My most high Godhead, for He is one with Me, and in Me, one, same, true and undivided God, and whosoever receiveth Him, receiveth Me. I have given thee, moreover, My Holy Spirit, to cleanse, and comfort, and enlighten thee; to teach thee all truth and justice; to inflame thee with His own love; to solace thee, and enrich thee with all graces and virtues. For I took exceeding great complacency in thee, and thou didst find favour in My eyes, and I set My Heart upon thee, and chose thee for My own beloved bride. And from everlasting had I decreed, that My delight and My pleasure should be in thee, even in thee whom I had chosen to be My temple, and My chamber, and My dwelling-place. Behold the Man! In Him have I given thee My whole undivided Self, that thou also mightest give to Me thy whole undivided self, all that thou art, and all that thou canst do. With the purest love have I embraced thee, without ever looking for any reward or compensation from thee. Wherefore it is just that thou in thy turn shouldst love Me without looking for any reward; that is, that thou shouldst love Me for Myself alone, that I may be thy reward, thy hope, and thy aim, and that thou shouldst love Me, because I have loved thee, and that thou mayest deserve to be loved by Me. And if thou wilt enter with Me into a compact of love, and become worthy to be loved by Me, thou must be a willing and living instrument in My hands, and allow thyself to be led by Me; and thou must offer and resign thy whole self wholly to Me, without any wish or choice of thy own, and suffer whatever may seem good to Me to do with thee both in time and in eternity. Yes, I say, it is thus absolutely necessary that thou shouldst leave Me to work in thee, and leave thyself to suffer, and to forego, and that thou shouldst ask of Me to accomplish in thee all that from everlasting I have decreed and fore-ordained, denying thyself utterly, and giving Me all power to work in thee. And with entire trust in My goodness, thou must cling to Me, receiving with great gratitude from My hand all that I shall permit to happen unto thee, both adversity and prosperity, temptations, afflictions, abandonment, distress; trusting that in My loving kindness I send thee these things, as being the best, and most healthful, and useful for thee, and in these must thou exercise thyself. But if thou art stable in thyself, and persevere, and look into the depths of thy soul, thou wilt clearly see why I have suffered these things to happen to thee, and that they are most necessary for thee, and for thine own interest. But, above all, I wish thee to take care, lest thou resist My workings within thee by obstinacy, self-seeking, wandering thoughts, negligence and dissipation. But in whatever affliction, distress or abandonment, I may suffer to come upon thee, thou shalt desire to persevere therein just as long as shall seem good to Me, until I loosen and snatch thee therefrom, and set thee free; and thou shalt bear that cross even unto the end for My sake. It behoveth thee, indeed, to be thus shaken and tossed by temptations and troubles, until every straw of lust, or selfishness, or vicious propensity be blown away from thee, and thy soul, which is so proud and stiff, must be ground by these things as if by a mill-stone, until thou, in thine own eyes, art brought down to nothing, like dust and ashes, so as not only to acknowledge, but to feel that thou art the most wretched and vilest of all whom the world containeth. And thou must be so stripped of all will and choice of thy own, that whatever God shall do with thee and with all creatures, may be so pleasing to thee, that thou mayest not even desire it to be otherwise, even if all creatures and all the elements were subject to thy rule. But before this state can be reached, there is work for thee to do, and toil for thee to bear; and to obtain all this many will be the crosses and labours, yea, and spiritual deaths, which thou wilt have to undergo. For before it can bring forth the fruit, the grain of wheat must die in the earth. Of a truth, these are the two wings; exceeding trustworthy, which summarily and swiftly lift us to the spiritual life; that is to say, self denial and patient suffering of adversity; in two words, self-denial and suffering. For whosoever knoweth how to resign himself to God in all simplicity, to him no affliction, nor infirmity, nor adversity can happen at all, without turning to an increase of virtue. This is that to which the apostle beareth witness, when he saith: "We know that to them who love God all things work together for good."

Therefore, if a man bear all things equally, and from all that happeneth to him gather matter for self-exercise, and if he carefully look into the depth of his own heart, he will hear the Father's voice speaking to him inwardly, and saying: "Ecce homo!" "Behold the Man!" Know thyself, know what thou art; acknowledge thy too great want of mortification, and the manifold vices that lie hidden in the depth of thy soul; take good heed that thou art nothing, that thou hast nothing, that thou canst do nothing of thyself. Suffer Me, then, to work within thee. Cleave unto Me by love, serve Me by faith, and whatever thou canst not do by thine own power I will do it for thee. In this knowledge, therefore, such a man will exercise himself, and when all his defects and crosses have been taken away, he will go with them to God, and give Him thanks, for thus having caused him to know his own vileness; and he will answer God, and will say in his turn, "Ecce homo!" Behold the man!" Behold, O my God, I am wretched and fit for nothing, and weak, and powerless; I have been conceived in sin, born in misery, and brought up in vice. Against whom, O Lord, dost Thou put forth Thy power? "Ecce homo!" "Behold the man." Be not angry with the leaf that is carried away by the wind. Forget not, O tender Lord, my poverty and frailty, and take not away from me the help of Thy grace, for I am a man, and a frail potsherd; I am a worm, and no man, full of the uncleanness of the flesh, from which filth and dirt run down both within and without. The power of resistance hath gone from me, and already I am overcome. Have mercy on me, O Thou, my God! Fight for me, work in me, do unto me what Thou wilt. Behold! I resign my whole self to Thee. For I know that Thy nature is goodness, and that it belongeth to Thee to have mercy and to spare. All my malice I cast into Thine infinite goodness. Thou hast granted unto me to know my sins, O Lord, grant that I may overcome them. Tear up by the roots all uncleanness of sin, and whatever is displeasing to Thee, and again plant in me Thy divine love, and all virtues.

Lastly, by this acknowledgment of his own frailty, and by the contemplation of his own vices, a man will very often make greater progress, if he only exercise himself well therein, than if in the meanwhile he had exercised himself in other things, however high. Of a truth, if a man is to be thoroughly cleansed, the vices which lie hidden in him must be brought to light, and he himself must sit with holy Job on the dung-hill and filth of his own vices, and this, too, with much sorrow and anguish, scraping off the gore and unclean matter of his wounds with a potsherd; that is to say, wiping away with labour and pain the impure flux of thoughts that spring from his sensual and corrupt nature. And he must place his exercise in this, so that with grievous toil he may cultivate the field of his conscience, if one day he would have it yield pleasant fruit. Now he must exercise himself in these things for a while, and many times must he die to these vices, and conquer them, and go with them to God, and throw all his sins and faults many times into God's Wounds, and wash them therein, and burn them away in the flame of God's love, until he feel that they have gone utterly from him, and that he hath been freed from them by God.

Moreover, this word, "Ecce homo," may be taken in this sense, as if, namely, the Son Himself were to say: "Ecce homo:" "Behold, O man." Behold what I have done for thee; I have known thee from everlasting in My essence, for from everlasting hast thou been in Me, sharing My being according to the idea of My Eternal Mind. Besides, I made thee a creature, and embraced thee with such high love, and endowed thee with such excellent grace, that I created thee to My own image and likeness. And that thou mightest know how goodly and fair I made thee, I shrunk not from taking thy nature, and from stamping on it the image of My worshipful Godhead. I was made thy own flesh and blood that I might redeem thee. I created My soul with all its powers, and I filled it with all spiritual gifts and graces, that I might perfectly practise all virtues, that I might satisfy for thy sins, and that I might merit and obtain for thee life everlasting. "Ecce homo." I, Who before all ages was born of the divine womb of My Eternal Father, in a certain marvellous and unutterable way, ever abiding equal with the same Father in power and glory, thought it no lowering of Myself to take thy nature, and to be made thy servant for three and thirty years, and in much poverty and lowliness and affliction, to work thy salvation. I was made, too, an exile from Mine own kingdom, that thou mightest become its heir. I was made an enemy of My Father, and was forsaken and chastened by Him with cruel chastisement, and I suffered His anger to be cast on Me, that thou mightest find grace, and be made the friend and child of God. Lastly, I took all thy debt upon Me, and I, Who was thy Judge, and Who by right could have sentenced thee to eternal damnation, was so touched with mercy, that under the appearance of a guilty sinner I gladly gave Myself over to a shameful death for thy sins, and spent My whole Self even to the last little drop of blood. Moreover, out of pure love, I gave thee My very Heart's Blood to drink: I became a worm, and no man, mocked and scoffed at by all, the reproach of men, and the hated sickening outcast of the people. As the fruit of the vine was I pressed in the wine-press of My Passion. My strength withered up like a potsherd, and was dried by the fire of love; and even as snow melteth when the sun looketh down, so in My Father's sight was I exhausted, and consumed, and melted for the sake of thy salvation. "Ecce homo." "Behold the Man!" What more wilt thou that I should do for thee? How could I have shown thee greater faithfulness, greater good-will, greater loving-kindness? See, how I stand here disfigured for thy sins; how I, the Lord of lords, am forsaken from on high, and from below, and despised by all. See how the torment of those thorns has pressed into the marrow of My Heart, that I may pick out the thorns and sharp points of thy sins. From the top of My Head to the sole of My feet, I am but one gaping, bleeding Wound, that I may perfectly heal thee of every hurt. All the evil that thou hast deserved by following the desires of thy nature, all that I have washed away in such great and sharp bitterness of pain; and I have so cleansed thee wholly from every stain of sin in My precious Blood, that thou mightest become pleasing and acceptable in My sight. "Ecce homo:" "Behold the Man." Keep for ever in thy mind the remembrance of this love, and with what zeal, and labour, and sorrow, I sought after thee, and be not after this a stranger to Me. See if there can be any sorrow that can be compared with My sorrow! See if ever any guilty wretch suffered such pain for his own sins, as I have suffered for thine!

From these words, too, Holy Church, our Mother, hath deemed that the Sacred Host should be elevated and shown to all, as if to speak to us, and say: "Ecce homo!" "Behold the Man;" in order to stir us up, the good Mother that she is, to bear ever in mind the Incarnation, Nativity, Passion,. Death, and Resurrection, and, in a word, all the love and all the benefits shown and conferred upon us by Christ; for the Holy Thing, that is the Mass, hath been instituted in remembrance of God's love, and of the works which for our sakes He hath accomplished. For the same reason it hath been decreed, that there should be placed in all the churches the mirror of truth, that is, the image of the Holy Cross of Christ Jesus; so that as often as he crosseth the threshold of the temple, man may contemplate the figure of his Maker hanging upon the Cross; and that straightway there may come into his mind that wonderful love, which his God then declared to him; and that he may so exercise and occupy himself therein, as to forget all strange and outward images, and may imagine that his crucified Lord is addressing him in these words: "Ecce homo:" "Behold the man." Behold how I hang here, despised, mocked, wracked, fastened with nails, wounded, deprived of all comfort, My arms naked and stretched out towards thee, to take thee back into My grace. Behold how I hang here, with My Head bowed down, that I may give thee the kiss of peace and reconciliation; with My side and Heart open, that I may bring thee, My chosen bride, into the pleasant chamber of My Heart, and there embrace thee with love everlasting. Then man, in his turn, as if accepting Christ's loving invitation to approach His sweet Wounds, turneth himself, full of confidence, to God, and to Christ's nailed and pierced feet, and throwing himself down with as lowly submission as he can, thinketh how he himself hath inflicted, by his foul sins, all this bitter sorrow on his Lord and God, and at the same time confesseth all his sins with bitter sorrow and burning tears, saying: "Enter not now, O most merciful God, into judgment with Thy useless and sinful servant, for in Thy sight shall no man living be justified." If in Thy angels evil was found, how much more unclean will man be, who was conceived in concupiscence, and born in sin? Lord, correct me not in Thine anger, for I am not spirit, but flesh; not an angel, but a man. "Behold the Man." What is man, Lord God, that Thine anger should rage against him, whose life is like the wind or the smoke, which quickly passeth away? Why dost Thou show Thy power against the leaf, which is carried away by the wind? Then, too, at the same time, with all his weakness and all Ills sins, man turneth to God, and saith: "I know, O God of mercies, that Thou madest me pure and exceeding fit for no other end than that I might serve Thee, love Thee, praise and give Thee thanks, and that I might be an obedient instrument in all things, whereby Thou mightest work according to the desire of Thy Heart, in all delight and without hindrance. But alas! I have been corrupted and made foul by sin; I have utterly destroyed Thy noble instrument, and rendered it unfit for use, so that I am unworthy that Thou shouldst work in me at all. For by sin I have been made wholly useless, and corrupt, and hateful; nor do I know if I deserve ought else, than that Thou shouldst take away from me all Thy grace, and cast me off from Thy face. But, O most merciful God! while I thus wait for Thy tender long-suffering, and Thy long-suffering tenderness, wherein Thou hast borne so patiently all the wrong, and contempt, and shame that I have inflicted on Thee, I here call to mind that it is not Thy will that any man should perish, and that Thou desirest not the death of the wicked, but rather that he should turn from his wickedness, and live. Trusting then to this, I turn to Thee.

"O sweet Lord Jesus Christ, Who, by the will of the Father, and the co-operation of the Holy Ghost, didst renew our too corrupted nature, and restore it to its first purity, so that by Thee far greater grace and glory have been born to us, than we lost by our first parents: Behold, I desire so to offer myself as an instrument in Thy hands, whereby Thou mayest work in me according to the desire of Thy Heart, as no creature hath ever offered itself before. But, O tender God, this is not in my power, for by a long habit of sin I have utterly corrupted myself. But whatever I may now be, I offer myself to Thee. If Thou hast renewed the whole world by Thyself, surely Thou art able to form me again to that purity, in which I was created by Thee. Thou art able out of a stone to raise up a child of Abraham. Vouchsafe, therefore, by Thy divine Mystery, to form and make over again all that by my own wickedness I have destroyed."

Thirdly, the word "Ecce homo" may be literally understood, as if Pilate, when he said to the Jewish multitude: "Ecce homo," "Behold the man," meant to address them in these words: "Behold the man. – Now let your blood-thirstiness be quenched, let this now be enough for you; cease now to persecute any more the innocent blood. For, contrary to right and justice, contrary to my mind and conscience, I have fearfully chastised this innocent man, in order to appease your mad rage. Let tills be enough for you, and now show some kindness to this man, who hath deserved no evil. For he is a man. Have compassion on your own flesh and blood, and on one of your own race; let your cruel tyranny be turned into mercy, your hatred into love; have pity upon Him in His cruel punishments, which you see have been inflicted upon Him. He is no beast, but a man. No robber or malefactor was ever so brought down to nothing, or so unworthily punished for his crimes, as this Just Man, Who hath done no wrong. If ye despised Him because He said He was a king, now, at least, receive Him Whom you see the most wretched and abject of men."

When, then, the cruel Jews heard these words, and saw Jesus thus disfigured standing before them, their hearts of steel, far from being softened, began rather to glow with a white heat of hatred and envy, so that they cried out savagely: "Away with Him, away with Him!" "We cannot even look upon Him!" "Crucify Him, crucify Him!" "We will have no more excuses: He is guilty of death." When Pilate saw that he could do no good, and that he was powerless either by word or deed to set Jesus free, and that the rage and madness of the Jews increased more and more, he washed his hands before all the wicked people, and said: "I am guiltless of the innocent blood of this Just Man. See ye to it."

But they with discordant and horrible cries, cried out: "His Blood be upon us, and upon our children." O unheard of malice! O accursed hatred!

Here let each man enter into the secret places of his heart, and there meditate with himself with what sorrow the Heart of Jesus was pierced at these words, since He clearly saw that they had been uttered by the Jews out of envy and malice. Let us consider how heavy an affliction it was to our tender-hearted Lord, Whose nature is goodness, when He looked into the deceitful and plague-stricken hearts of His people, and beheld with what cruelty and hatred they were consumed, how they thirsted for His Blood, so as even to give themselves and their children over to eternal malediction, and the terrible vengeance of God, if only they could put Christ to death. How sadly, peradventure, did our Lord think within His Heart: "O My people, what have I done to you, or how have I grieved you? I chose you from out the nations, and highly exalted you. With fatherly love I kept and cherished you, and I filled you with all good things, and now you seek to kill and crucify Me."

After this, Pilate passed sentence upon Christ, and gave Him into the hands of the Jews, that they might crucify Him, and put Him to death according to their desire. Ah! where is the man whose heart will not tremble with horror, and who will not break forth into tears, when he seeth the Author of life sentenced to death? the Son of God, to Whom the Father hath given all judgment, suffering Himself, of His own free will, to be condemned to a shameful death? Oh! who can refrain from tears, when he calleth to mind how his dear Lord, the innocent Lamb, was delivered into the cruel hands of the Jews, that they might fulfil their designs upon Him? What will they now do, when they have obtained the judge's consent, who dared to do so much without the governor's leave? Will they not pour out upon Christ the rage which they have so long borne in their hearts? Of a truth, whatever evil they could think of, that they inflicted upon Him. By the most bitter, shameful, cruel and contemptible death they can think of, will they kill Him; for He hath given Himself over to their will. O wicked judgment! O unjust sentence! O cruel condemnation! O perverse judge, a little while ago thou didst find no cause in Him, and now thou sentencest Him to death. A little before thou didst declare Him a just man, and now thou condemnest Him to die. A little before thou didst confess that thou knewest well that the Jews had been moved by hatred and envy to deliver Him to you, and that there was no fault at all in Him, and now thou givest Him over into the hands of His enemies, and to their cruel will!

THE TWENTY-NINTH CHAPTER

The burden of the Cross is laid on Jesus

Nowter that Christ Jesus, our Saviour, had been condemned to death, the soldiers again seized Him, and stripping Him of the purple garment, clothed Him once more in His own garments, that He might be the better recognised in His own dress. Then they hurried Him along to death, for they feared that Pilate might be otherwise persuaded, or repent, and thus recall his sentence. They took, therefore, the heavy beam of the Holy Cross, and laid it upon His sacred shoulders, and its length, as some have observed, was fifteen feet. Moreover, the reason why they did this was, because at that time the cross was the most shameful kind of torment by which the guilty could be put to death. For this reason no one would touch it for fear of confusion and shame. Thus, then, they laid it on Christ, to His great confusion, that He might bear His own shame, and might be an object of mockery and scorn to all men, and that the remembrance of Him might be utterly blotted out of the hearts of men, and that no one might ever dare to make mention of Him again. But our most gracious Lord willingly and gently took its weight upon Him, and carried it with great love for His Father's glory and the salvation of men; nor did He take upon Himself the Cross alone, but the sins of the whole world, and He carried it to Calvary, where He fastened them to the Cross, and destroyed them, and washed them away in His own Blood, and atoned for them by His bitter death. This is what the Prophet saith: "All we like sheep have gone astray, every man into his own way;" that is, after his own lusts and delights; "and the Lord hath laid on Him the iniquity of us all."

Moreover, in doing this, our Lord showed unto us a certain example of perfection, as before He had taught us by word, for He utterly denied and resigned Himself, and bore His Cross with constancy and perseverance. If, then, thou wouldst become His disciple, go and do likewise, and follow thy Lord. Yet it was not enough for the Jews to have thus shamefully treated Him, for, to shame Him the more, they led Him along between two thieves, and showed Him far greater contempt than they showed to them, by forcing Him to carry His Cross, – a thing which was never heard to have been done to thieves. O most loving Jesus! what love hath overcome Thee? How exceedingly hast Thou thirsted after my salvation! With what strong desire hast Thou walked along that difficult and painful way for my sake, and suffered such great shame and reproach for the love of me. To call me back to life, Thou, the Author of life, wert led to death! To bring us back out of the path of wickedness, Thou, the Lord of Sabaoth, the Lord holy and just, art dragged to Calvary. To teach us to despise the good things of earth, Thou hast suffered Thyself to be despoiled of all things, and naked hast gone up to the Cross to Thy Father. To plant us among the angelic choirs, and to join us thereto, Thou hast been numbered with the wicked; and lastly, that we might be honoured by the hosts of heaven, Thou art held up before the whole world to contempt and scorn. Of a truth, no malefactor ever died by a more shameful death. For, at the time when Christ suffered, the Pasch was being celebrated by the Jews, and a great multitude of people had come together, and all strove one with the other to obtain a sight of Christ. Thus, then, the Lord of glory, Whose is all glory and honour, walked along, crowned with thorns, bound with hard cords, heavy laden with the weight of the Cross, between two thieves, and mocked by every sign of condemnation, of which those wicked men could think.

Let us contemplate, I pray of you, with sorrowful hearts, how full of agony was that procession. Before our Lord went the vile crowd, laughing and grinning, desiring to be beforehand with Him, in order to see Him fastened to the Cross. On either side walked the torturers and executioners, afflicting Him at every step in numberless ways, in order to allure and excite the whole people to mock and ill-treat Him. Behind followed the cruel crowd of armed men, and, as we may suppose, the leaders and chief-priests, rejoicing like lions when they have captured their prey, and these heaped upon Christ curses and blasphemies. Thus, then, was the King of glory made the contempt of all; small and great, noble and base-born, shamefully ill-treated Him. This our Lord had long before foretold by the Prophet, in these words: "They who sat in the gate spoke against Me, and they who drank wine held me up to scorn. All who saw Me, mocked Me; they spoke with their lips, and wagged their heads."

Let us, then, with inward sorrow, look closely into the torments which our Lord now suffered. Although, as Isaias saith, He was full of wounds, and from the sole of the foot to the top of the head there was no health in Him, yet it hath been observed by some, that He was again grievously hurt and wounded in His shoulder. For upon it pressed the great beam of the Cross, which inflicted on it a large wound, making of all the wounds one wound; and the pain thereof pierced His tender Heart. And as some devout doctors teach, this was one of the most grievous of Christ's pains. For, as we learn by daily experience, if a man be in pain from even some slight wound or ulcer, he can hardly suffer with patience anyone to come near him. What then must have been the torment of our Lord Jesus Christ, when that heavy wood was laid and pressed down upon His bleeding shoulders, and chiefly upon that fearful wound; and He had to carry it so long a journey? And because the Cross was too long, He could not carry it all upon His shoulder. Hence it happened, that the end of it, striking against the stones strewn upon the way, made a great and harsh noise, which must have been painful to our Lord beyond all belief. Moreover, as by reason of all those grievous pains and troubles which He had borne all that night and day, He was so weak and injured as to be wholly exhausted and devoid of strength, He walked along so pitiably bowed down to the earth beneath the great weight of the Cross, and with such exceeding agony of heart that every step He took eat, so to speak, into His very Heart. But His burning love for us and our salvation kept urging Him on to suffer beyond His strength. And of a truth, beyond measure grievous was that affliction, both inwardly and outwardly, when He had taken on Himself not only the burden of the Cross, but the sins of the whole world, as the prince of the apostles saith: "He hath borne our sins in His own Body on the tree." Nor could Christ's Passion be anything but exceeding bitter, since, according to the rigour of justice, it was to outweigh all the sins of men. Here let every man think in his own heart, how much heavier he himself hath made the Cross of Christ by his own sins.

After this, when those bloodthirsty dogs would hasten Christ's death, they both kicked and struck Him, and without any mercy showered down blows upon Him, as if He had been some brute beast in their hands. Nevertheless, this innocent Lamb meekly placed Himself under all their savage blows. Who then can restrain his tears, if he set Christ thus disfigured before the eyes of his soul, and with great compassion consider His pains? For, of a truth, His Body was utterly exhausted, and yet carried a Heart to suffer. His limbs sank down under His burden, yet when He fell down burning love raised Him up, that He might bear His punishment even to the end. The heavy weight of the Cross pressed Him down to the earth, yet His fiery longing urged Him to go on. For His eager desire to accomplish His Father's will, and to finish our redemption, had so increased within Him, that it compelled Him to suffer more than His nature and human weakness could bear, and so forced Him through all His pains, that He would not have refused to walk under this heavy burden, even to the last judgment day, for man's salvation, if this had seemed good to His Father, and had been to His honour.

Here, therefore, Christ setteth before all men a mirror, as it were, and form of spiritual life and perfection. For as many as aspire to a true and virtuous life, these must gladly take up their cross with Christ, and faithfully and perseveringly carry the same; and if it shall please God, they must suffer themselves to be stripped naked of all temporal goods, and of all help and comfort of friends, and of inward and spiritual consolation and sensible grace. For this they must cheerfully suffer mockery, and shame, and detraction, and wrong, and reproach, for God's dear sake; and with Christ they must be made a sacrifice pleasing unto God, and like unto their Beloved, by bearing many afflictions and troubles at the hands of men, and temptations of devils, and their own faults and defects. And whosoever desireth to be a true lover, must never forsake his Beloved, either on the cross, or in death, or any affliction whatsoever, that can come upon him; but taking his cross earnestly on his shoulders, he must humbly place himself beneath it, and say: "I will follow Thee, O my Beloved, whithersoever Thou shalt go." Nor must he ask to be loosened from the cross, but must desire to bear it, as it shall seem good to his Lord. Nor must he seek any consolation, either earthly or spiritual, which may soften or lessen his cross. Nay, rather, for the glory of his Beloved, he must be ready to bear it even to his last breath; nor must he seek any other reward for this, but only God's honour and His good pleasure.

Lastly, those who thus carry their cross, these I call the true lovers and followers of Christ, for they seek not their own, but the things of Jesus Christ; even as S. Paul, that faithful lover of Christ, after those fearful and cruel crosses of which he maketh mention in his epistle, still desired to be an anathema for his brethren, the children of Israel; that is, to become accursed and separated from God, if only he could gain many to Christ. Moses, in like manner, desired to be blotted out of the book of life. Of a truth this is perfect charity, which seeketh not its own, spareth not itself, neither in time nor in eternity, if only God's honour be increased. They are true lovers and followers of Christ, who repay Christ in some manner for His Death, by exposing their lives to danger, even as Christ laid down His life for them, and who desire their own loss, if they may gain Christ. Nor do such men despise anyone, but themselves rejoice to be despised; they magnify others and think them saints, but think little of themselves, and hold themselves as nothing-worth. These show themselves kind and gracious to all men, rigid and severe only to themselves. From others' evils they draw forth virtues, and their own virtues they hold for sins, and all others compared with their own sinful selves they earnestly judge to be just and virtuous. Who can hesitate to call such men humble, and lovers and followers of Christ, since they have utterly denied themselves, and follow Christ with His Cross?

Nevertheless it is not enough, if thou wouldst perfectly please thy bridegroom Christ, merely to have taken up thy cross. If thou wouldst be made in any way like to Him, thou must also go forth with Him. For thus thou readest of thy Lord in the Gospel, that He went forth carrying His Cross. And to the virgins in the Gospel it is said: "Behold, the Bridegroom cometh, go ye out to meet Him." Whither, then, shall we go out? Out of the city, out of the crowd of men, out of all tumult and disturbance; yea, and so utterly out of our own selves, out of all selfishness, sensuality, pleasure, comfort; out of all unlawful love of creatures, and all that can stain our hearts; and lastly, out of all things in which we seek ourselves more than God's simple honour, love and pleasure. Moreover, when we have thus gone out, we will then faithfully take our cross upon our shoulders, and keep close to Christ's footprints; that is to say, we will gladly accept all afflictions and crosses whatsoever, whenever they come to us by God's permission, and whencesoever they may come, whether from the evil spirit, or from our own faults and defects; and will lift them on our shoulders, that is, we will exercise ourselves therein; and so, at last, they will turn to our advantage.

But come now, and let us go back to Christ where we left Him; in the bloody hands, namely, of the cruel Jews. While Christ was walking along full of misery, under the heavy burden of the Cross, there were a few devout persons, chiefly certain women, who were deeply moved by compassion for their Saviour, and wept exceeding bitterly. To these our Lord said: "Weep not for Me, ye daughters of Jerusalem, but weep for yourselves, and for your children;" as if He would say: "I indeed stand in no need of your prayers, for of My own will I suffer this shameful Death, both for My Father's glory and the salvation of all of you, and for all your sins and wickedness. It is not Me, therefore, Whom you should weep for, but weep rather for your own sins and those of your children, which cause Me all these pains. For it is your sins, and the contempt which I perceive My Father receiveth from you, which weigh Me down far more heavily than the Cross which I bear. And soon My pain will pass away, but yours will endure for ever. For if your children do this in the green tree, what shall be done in the dry? If I, Who never committed any sin, but am ever green, and fruitful of all virtue, cannot, nevertheless, pass away out of this world without the fire of trouble and affliction, and the bitterness of suffering, what will be the fire, and flames, and the torments of hell, which thou must look for, who are dry and barren of good works, empty of virtue, and full of wickedness?" Here, S. Gregory truly saith: "When I weigh with myself the Passion and Death of our Lord Jesus Christ, when I consider, too, the afflictions of Job, and the martyrdom of S. John the Baptist, my heart shrinketh for fear of the punishment prepared for sinners and all wicked men For if God chastised so terribly His own dearest friends, what will He do to His enemies? If He thus punished their exceeding slight faults, without which this life can hardly be passed, what will be the severity with which He will punish those who, like senseless and thoughtless cattle, live according to the lusts of their own corrupt flesh?"

THE THIRTIETH CHAPTER

Mary, the Mother of Sorrows, followeth her sorrowing Son

While these things were being done, Mary, God's most sorrowful Mother, eagerly sought to see her Son, that she might receive from Him at least one word of comfort, or might herself solace Him in some way, and bid Him a last farewell. But, because she was not allowed to go near Him, by reason of the crowd of wicked soldiers, who surrounded Him on every side, and followed Him, she went round by another way, as some affirm, so as to get before the crowd, and thus meet her Beloved Son. For although from her bitter grief for her Son's Passion, she was utterly exhausted, and without strength, yet her mighty and burning love for Him, and her great desire of seeing Him, gave her fresh strength, so that she passed before the whole crowd of those who were leading Jesus. Who, I ask, can conceive what must have been the agony of sorrow which then pierced her heart, when she saw her heart's only joy, Whom she embraced with love beyond all comprehension, so miserably forsaken, and bent down besides, beneath the heavy burden of the Cross; when she looked, too, on His gracious face, that so often she had kissed with inward devotion, so shamefully disfigured, and miserably treated; when she beheld His worshipful Head, that she had times without number pressed with reverence and burning love to her heart, so cruelly pierced by the dreadful crown of thorns; when, in a word, she saw such wrong and contempt inflicted on her God and Lord, and Himself numbered with condemned thieves? Who can doubt that the sword of sorrow most sharply pierced her devout and tender heart, when she saw her Beloved Son, Whom she had carried on her breast, so foul with blood and spittle, so buffeted and smitten, so disfigured, as well as despised and cast off by the whole world? There is no doubt at all, that if she had not been kept and strengthened by God's goodness, her heart would have broken for sorrow, for the measureless force of sorrow had so weighed down her spirit, that she stood as if overwhelmed by some heavy rock, and could not utter even a word. Yet she manifested no unwonted disfigurement, nor showed outwardly any sign of impatience; for she had resigned herself utterly to God, and had poured and brought back her whole being, without any choice or will of her own, into His most gracious will. And because she was full of the Holy Ghost, she had known from the prophets that her Son was to die, and that it was for this that He had taken a mortal body, and that so it had seemed good to His Heavenly Father. Therefore it was that she knew not how to desire anything else. Hence, even as Christ Jesus gladly offered Himself to the Father a living Victim for the salvation of men, so also the most blessed Virgin Mary offered her own Son for the salvation of the human race; and it was far more pleasing to her to be deprived of His consolation, than to hinder man's redemption. But her burning love for her Son could not keep itself wholly within, but as it inwardly burned, consumed, and melted her heart, so also it outwardly poured forth bitter tears, and darkened her fresh colour, and pressed out numberless deep sighs, so that her outward, pitiable, and most sad appearance, showed forth the inward anguish of her spirit. But because she understood that it was God's will that she should suffer together with her Son, she gladly offered herself for this, for she was ready, indeed, to die with her sweet Son Jesus, for the salvation and redemption of wretched man. Moreover, she kept back her sorrow within the secret places of her heart, because she desired no outward comfort from men, seeking rather to abide in that sorrow, until our Lord Himself delivered her therefrom, and consoled her.

For this reason she followed Jesus, that with Him she might carry her cross. For this she went up to Calvary, that with Him she might be crucified inwardly in spirit. For this she stood by the Cross, that the sword of sorrow might pierce her Heart, and make her the Queen of all martyrs. For the most excellent gift of God, by which He is wont to reward His friends, is the cross, together with affliction, and this gift He bestowed on His Son and the Blessed Virgin, and still bestoweth on all His chosen friends. Hence, whosoever setteth himself against the cross and afflictions, resisteth God's will and God's gifts, and wandereth away from God, and turneth his back upon Him. For with a common love God loveth all men, and desireth them to advance towards perfection; but this cannot be without labour, and sorrow, and many crosses: just as some precious and cunningly worked vase of gold cannot be made without fire, and hammers, and other sharp and suitable instruments. Yet wretched men always fly away, nor can they bear or tolerate Christ's gentle workmanship within them, and this is why they always remain fit for nothing, wretched and frail.

Then, when Christ, as we have said, thus walked along pitiably laden with His Cross, and when all His strength was gone, and He was utterly exhausted, so that He could go no further, in His exceeding pain He fell down flat upon the ground. At this fall He felt all at one time the fearful want of mercy shown by those cruel wretches, as they smote, and dragged, and forced Him along, as every man may easily weigh and meditate in his own mind. For they did to Him all the devil inwardly suggested. Moreover, when those wicked and blood-thirsty tyrants saw that neither by striking, nor dragging, nor forcing, nor kicking, they could move Him any farther, – so utterly was He without strength, – they compelled a certain man, going into the city, to carry the Cross after Christ. Now this they did, not from any compassion for Christ, but that they might the more quickly put Him to death; and lest, peradventure, He might break forth His soul under their hands, before they had put forth all their malice and wickedness against Him. Now this man was a heathen, that thereby might be given to understand that the Jews were unworthy to carry Christ's Cross; and, at the same time, this mystery signified that the faith and glory of the Cross would pass to the Gentiles.

A Prayer to the Father of Heaven

Look now, I beseech Thee, O most merciful Father, on Thine Only-begotten Son, and see how He hath suffered for Thy glory in the work of our redemption. See how the Only One of Thy love, equal to Thee in glory, equal in power, hath been disgraced between two thieves, and condemned to the shameful death of the Cross. Look upon His persevering obedience and patience, how with longing desire He hath borne for Thy honour all these pains, and all this bitterness, and contempt, and shame, and wrong, and all His horrible torments; and how He hath exhausted and spent Himself beyond His human strength, with true resignation, and without any help from others, in order that He might accomplish Thy gracious will. This is Thy Beloved Son, in Whom Thou art well pleased. This is that true Jacob, Who, suffering persecution from Esau, the Jewish people, hath walked humbly through the Jordan alone, with the weight of His Cross, that He might come back again to Thee with great riches, and an exceeding multitude of men. This is that true Joseph, Thy dearest Son, sent by Thee in search of His brethren, whom He found in Dothaim, that is, in the midst of great sin and iniquity, but who was devoured by an evil beast, that is to say, by the pestilential poison of envy. This is Jesus, the good Shepherd, Who laid down His life for His sheep, and sought everywhere so earnestly for the one sheep that was lost, and Who, when He had found it, after exceeding labour, and drawn it out, and led it away from the filth of sin, laid it so lovingly on His shoulders, and brought it back to the sheep-fold.

O Father of Mercies! see, I beseech Thee, how Thy sweet Son hath borne alone on His Cross the sins of the whole world; and how He Who never sinned, washed away all our filth and uncleanness in His own most pure Blood, and consumed them in the heat of His burning love. He Whom Thou hadst appointed Judge, and to Whom Thou hadst given all power of judgment, out of His love hath been sentenced to death, and hath died, in order that He might redeem all who were guilty, and free them from their debts by paying the price of His own innocent Blood.

O Father of heaven, how brightly doth Thy divine image shine forth in Thy most holy Son? How easy is it to know, through Thy Divine Word, Thy tender and Fatherly Heart? Now clearly do we acknowledge, that whosoever seeth Thy Son, seeth Thee also, and by the mercy of Thy beloved Son, we do indeed understand how Thou art the Father of mercies, and the God of all consolation. See, most sweet Father, here is Thy obedient Son, Who so thirsted after Thine honour, that out of zeal and love for Thy house, He wasted His Heart's blood, and the marrow of His bones, and was dried up like a potsherd, in order that He might lead all men along with Him to Thee, and that they might love, and thank, and praise Thee for ever. Ah! what am I, a poor little worm of earth, that for my sake Thou sparedst not Thine only-begotten Son? How hast Thou loved me, whom Thou hast redeemed at such a price! And, of a truth, if Thy Fatherly Heart could have thought of anything better, this, too, would have been given as the price of my salvation, and for the perfecting thereof. What shall I render Thee, O most holy Father, for all this Fatherly trust, and kindness, and love, which Thou hast shown me through Thy Only-begotten Son? Of a truth, if for Thy love my heart could be divided, at every single moment of time, into as many little parts as there are little blades of grass on the earth, or drops of water in the sea, or particles of dust and sand on the mountains and in the valleys; and if each single part could ceaselessly praise Thee with a exceeding great gratitude, and serve and wait on Thee as diligently, and obey Thee as simply, and venerate and worship Thee as worthily, and love Thee with as great detachment, as even lieth within the desire of all the blessed; and if, moreover, each part could suffer for Thy honour as much as it should desire to suffer, until the last judgment day; yet not even then could I in any wise satisfy Thee, or worthily repay Thee for Thy incomprehensible love, which Thou hast poured upon me through Thine Only One.

O most gracious Father! Thou height of riches, depth of consolations, abyss of mercy, source and river of grace, origin of all good, abyss of holiness, paradise of delights, joy of heaven, full content of the blessed, on Whom I see the angels desire to look, behold! I praise, and laud, and thank and glorify, and extol, and magnify Thee, and all my inward parts confess, honour, and bless Thy holy Name; for Thy goodness, and loving-kindness, and grace and mercy towards me, are exceeding great. And although I am a vessel of uncleanness, stained and spotted with many sins, and unworthy to praise Thee, yet am I bound and ought to praise Thee, by every right. Nay, how can I ever cease from Thy praise, when Thou ceasest not to show kindness unto me? Therefore, vouchsafe in Thy mercy to be praised by me, a vile sinner; since Thou shrinkest not from bestowing daily on me, Thy most neglectful servant, so many gifts and graces, and showing me so great and Fatherly faithfulness and love. Behold! again I offer Thee, most loving Father, this same only and beloved Son of Thine; in union with that love; whereby Thou gavest Him then for me, when Thou didst desire Him to take my nature, and afterwards to undergo the gibbet of the Cross. Nor in all my understanding can I think of aught more noble, or more worthy, or more acceptable to Thy Majesty. Moreover, I offer Thee also this sweet Son of Thine, in union with that love, whereby He offered himself as the highest sacrifice of praise, when on the altar of the Cross; with a loud cry and burning tears; He commended His soul into Thy hands, and Himself, the great High Priest, entered the Holy of Holies, and uncovered the veil of the old tabernacle, and consecrated new Sacraments, not in the blood of sheep; and when anointed, not by the Jewish high-priest, with natural oil, but by thee, His God and Father, with the oil of gladness, He washed away all the sins and trespasses of Thy people in His own Blood. In addition to this I offer Thee His guiltless death, with all the merits of His bitter Passion, and of the blessed and spotless Virgin Mary, and of all the blessed, to Thy eternal glory, for all my sins, iniquities, and negligences; also, for all the living and the dead, for whom Thou wishest me to pray, O my God, and for whom I am bound to pray, that Thy holy Name may be blessed, and praised, and honoured by them for ever and ever. Amen.

THE THIRTY-SECOND CHAPTER.

Jesus is given vinegar to drink.

In this way, then, as was said a little above, the cruel Jews led Christ to Calvary, a place of condemnation, accursed and shameful, full of the fetid odour of dead mens' bodies and bones. And here it is lawful for us to gather that Christ's death was by far the most shameful of all deaths; and this for four reasons. First, indeed, because in that age crucifixion was the basest and most ignominious kind of death that could be inflicted on the very worst criminals. Secondly, because our Lord was crucified between two thieves, as the chief thief, as if He had been condemned for their crimes as well, and that, being subjected to the same punishment, might be supposed to be equal with them in guilt. Thirdly, because He was put to death, all naked, on the foul site of Calvary, a punishment which was wont to be inflicted only on notorious criminals. Fourthly, because He was put to death during the Paschal solemnity, as if His life had been so wicked and abominable, that it became a necessity to send Him out of the world as quickly as possible, being such an universal object of hatred, as well as a burden to all.

Now when they had come to this mount of Calvary, our gentle Lord became exceeding worn and weak from excessive weariness and the heavy burden of the Cross, and they gave Him to drink, as was the custom to give to the condemned; not indeed sweet, but corrupt and acid wine, mixed with myrrh and gall, whereby those spiteful and wicked men clearly betrayed the bitter poison of their hearts against Christ, since they left not even one of His members unpunished. But Christ also wished to suffer in all His members, in order perfectly to heal us, who had been wounded in all our members. And because Adam had sinned through lust of the forbidden fruit, our Lord Jesus wished to atone for his sill by the torment of this bitter draught. Alas! how many are to be found at the present day, who think nothing at all of offending God by the sin of gluttony, and of despising His law, whereby He has commanded us not to indulge our concupiscence, but rather to bridle our sensual appetites, and subject them to the spirit, that the flesh may not at any time rebel against the spirit, but be humbly subject to it, and obey it. Oh! how great at the present day is the number of those who stuff their rotten bodies, not by the eating of a single apple, but with many and divers kinds of food, all of them exceeding delicate, and thus offend God. These are they whose God is their belly, and who make of the temple of the Holy Ghost a pot-house of devils; because, forgetting the form of their noble being, they have changed the image of the likeness of God into the likeness of senseless cattle. These are they, in a word, who fear not to destroy soul and body, in order to satisfy their sensual appetites and lusts. Now these, it is clear, do not once only give a bitter draught to Christ Jesus, but daily offer Him the bitterest of all gall to drink. Of a truth, these men have forgotten that soberness is a kind of preparation for all virtues, that it is the throne of chastity and purity, the purge of the soul, the mother of health, the way of heaven, the shield against the temptations of fleshly desires, and the discipline of the Christian life. For as the old serpent laid low our first parents through gluttony, so his weapons are easily turned aside through soberness. Nature, indeed, is itself greatly inclined towards evil and sensual delights, and seeketh her own pleasure in many ways; hence it is necessary that a spiritual man should act prudently and reasonably on this point, so as to say with holy Job: "Before I take my meat, I sigh." And, of a truth, as Augustine saith: "We ought to take food in the same way as medicine, with such moderation and discretion, that it may help us to serve God; and with such gratitude, that at each single morsel praise may redound to our most kind Creator. Amen.

THE THIRTY-THIRD CHAPTER

Jesus is again stripped of His garments

After this they again cruelly tore off the garments of our Lord and Saviour, and left Him as shamefully naked as when He came forth from His Mother's womb. For as Adam had broken the law, so Christ wished to cancel our debts and sins. Adam was overcome by seeking for garments, Christ conquered by being stripped of His garments. Therefore, although our Lord Jesus, both at His birth and His whole life long, was poor indeed, yet on the Cross He desired to offer to us a perfect example and form of true poverty, by thus suffering Himself to be stripped naked, so as not even to have a thread left Him, by which He might cover His pure and modest members, or anything on which to lean His sacred Head. But as naked He had come into the world, signifying by this that He had no commerce with the world, so naked He went out of the world. For thus He spake: "The prince of this world cometh, and hath nothing in Me;" that is, nothing of his own. Of a truth, He so lived in this wicked world, that not even the slightest dust of the desire of possession clung to Him. Lastly, for His greater shame and dishonour, He was hung up thus naked in the sight of His bitterest enemies and mockers. For it was not the custom to crucify naked those who were guilty of death, unless they were notorious malefactors, who, as an example for others, were obliged to suffer a horrible death. Adam also, when he had lost his innocence, hastened to clothe himself with garments: but Christ was stripped naked that He might preserve the purity of innocence whole and unhurt; nor had He need of any covering.

Look, now, O my soul! with inward compassion and sorrow of heart, upon thy sweet Redeemer and Lover. See, how the King of glory, Who clotheth and covereth all things, the heaven with clouds, the trees with leaves, the earth with grass and flowers, is Himself stripped of all clothing even to the skin. See, how the Lord of lords is made a pattern of true poverty, and be ashamed after this to murmur, and complain, and to be cast down in mind when anything is taken from thee, or thou art left in inward or outward poverty. Learn from this to follow Jesus, poor, and naked, and forsaken; despise whatever the world hath, in order that thou mayest merit to embrace thy naked Saviour with thine own naked arms, and in turn to be clasped in His embrace, and united to Him in naked love. Observe, I pray thee, how He, Who is the beauty of heaven, is here disfigured, how the height of heaven is brought low, how the clear mirror of purity is uncovered, because unworthy of any covering, since there was no stain in Him that it was necessary to hide. For thus our Lord Himself said of Himself: "Which of you convinceth Me of sin?" Nevertheless, there is no one who can ever understand the grievous pain which eat into His most pure Heart, when He was forced to bear that great confusion and shame; above all, when He had to hang upon the Cross so shamefully in the sight of His purest Mother. Let us see, I pray thee, with great compassion, with what pitiless rage those cruel dogs tore off our Lord's garments, the very hem of which had healed the woman who laboured with a bloody flux. Who doth not see how cruel must have been that sorrow and torment, when they tore off with such fury and cruelty the garment which had clung to His wounds, and become fastened to them with His Blood, thus, doubtless, causing all His wounds to bleed afresh? Let every man weigh the greatness of this pain in his own heart. And, as is the opinion of some, they again pressed down on His Sacred Head, with incredible torment, the crown of thorns, which they had torn from it, so that there is no pain which can be compared with this.

Come now, O my soul, and meditate upon the agony of Him Who is the joy of heaven. See how His whole Body was again wounded, all His sacred wounds opened afresh, while they streamed with His purest Blood. Behold how His blessed Head, which even the angelic powers gaze at and tremble, and which the Venerable Baptist, S. John, shrunk from touching, was afflicted and tortured by those savage dogs; while the thorns, which again had been placed upon it, inflicted new wounds, so that wound was added to wound. Observe, I beg of thee, how that Royal Blood of His, mingled with brain, flowed down in streams from all His wounds over His face and neck, even to the ground; and how that disfigured Body, so pitiably cut and torn, and which was but one large gaping wound, was now exposed to the wind and cold, and was stiffened thereby. Yet that most meek Lamb bore all this cruel and horrible agony, not only with patience, hut with great desire. Oh! how He stood there trembling with cold, and streaming with blood! Oh! how were all His wounds made larger and deeper, when they madly tore away His garments, and forced one wound to flow into the other, so that our tender Lord Jesus Christ, ever to be embraced with all love, became but one bleeding wound. Here, indeed, was that living well of measureless loving-kindness, from which floweth to us in all abundance whatever we may desire. Of a truth, out of His Sacred Body there flowed forth rivers of His precious Blood, which is the price of our salvation and redemption; out of His mouth there came forth sacred words to be the food of our minds; out of His eyes there flowed forth tears of love in torrents, as a proof of His loving-kindness; out of His Heart there sprang that burning love, which forced Him to undergo all that cruel pain; in a word, out of all His actions there flowed forth, in rich abundance, instruction, discipline, and moral teaching for ourselves, whereby we may draw from His Passion not only the payment of our debts, but also a perfect and absolute rule for our life. Who hath such a heart of stone, as not to be moved by these immense benefits, nay, drawn to love?

Lastly, our Lord Jesus was not only stripped naked, but so utterly stripped of all things, as never again to be clothed any more, but to die in that poor nakedness, and naked poverty. Come now, all ye faithful, and let us mourn in every limb of our body, since our Lord standeth here before us, streaming with blood from all His members. Of a truth, that innocent Lamb desired to be stripped so shamefully naked, in order to clothe our deformity, and to give us back again the robe of innocence, which of old we had lost through the treachery of a certain wicked servant. Oh! what crosses our sweet Jesus underwent in His Heart, when He saw the hatred, and rage, and deceit, and bloodthirstiness of the Jews, how they made exceeding haste to adjust the Cross, and to urge on the executioners, so as to hurry on Christ's death; for to them it was a great inward cross to be forced to see our Lord and Saviour for so long a time moving before them.

Come then, O my soul, and set thy Lord and Saviour before the eyes of thy heart, and imagine that thou seest Jesus, the Bridegroom and delight of thy soul, standing before thee so pitiably crimsoned with blood, and mangled with wounds, and disfigured, and heart-broken, in order to espouse thee in thy foulness as His bride, and to cleanse, heal, and adorn thee, and to free thee from all thy debt. How canst thou suffer to see the Beloved of thy heart so miserably treated? Wilt thou not desire with thy whole heart to be utterly dissolved in tears, in order to wash the all-wounded Body of thy Beloved, and to cleanse it from all its disfigurement? O happy thou, if all the marrow of thy bones, and thy very heart's blood, could be distilled in ointment so as to anoint all thy Bridegroom's wounds! Oh! that thy heart itself might be melted in the fire of love, and be changed into grateful food for the sweetening of the mouth of thy Beloved, which hath been made so bitter by the vinegar and gall. And although thou canst do none of these things in reality, yet in desire thou wilt do them, and that is enough for thy Beloved, Who weigheth thy heart rather than thy deeds. Wherefore, when thou hast thus washed and anointed thy Bridegroom, lay Him to rest with great devotion and reverence on the sweet bosom of God His Father, as on the most pleasant bed that thou canst think of; place His worshipful Head, which has been so cruelly punctured by sharp thorns, and which hung so long upon the Cross without anything to rest upon, on the tender breast of God, as on the softest pillow that thou canst find, that He may take His rest.

But let us go back to our sweet Lord, Whom we left standing in such wretched plight, and worn away by such cruel pains. Let us, I pray, impress so deeply upon our hearts this His pitiable image, that never more it may be blotted out of our remembrance. There, too, we may imagine, as some affirm, how Christ Jesus – Who never allowed His spirit to rest from prayer and desire of work – when the executioners were busied in preparing for His death, knelt down with His bare and bleeding knees upon the ground, and lifting up His Heart, and eyes, and hands towards heaven, to God His Father, offered Him the noble sacrifice of His Passion, for the reconciliation of the human race, in these or like words:

"O Father of heaven, Eternal God, Maker of heaven and earth, and of all creatures, I pray Thee, I beseech Thee, Thou Who always hearest Me, accept now the sacrifice and oblation of Thine only Son; accept My most bitter Passion and My guiltless death, which now out of love I desire to suffer for all the sins and trespasses of the world. I come not into Thy presence with another's blood, or with the blood of sheep, but Mine own Blood do I shed as full payment for the debts of fallen man. Look down, I beseech Thee, Holy Father, on My humble prayers, on My labour and My sorrow, and on this cruel Passion of Mine, and graciously accept My death, which I have never deserved, but which in My great love I desire to undergo for the sins of all men, so as to destroy death, which Adam brought into the world by his prevarication. Let Thine anger, I beseech Thee; be turned into mercy, and open to lost man the gate of heaven, which for his sin Thou hast utterly closed for so many thousand years, and give him in Thy fatherly mercy a place in Thy everlasting kingdom, that by him the ruins of the wicked angels may be built again, and Thy house filled, and Thy Holy Name praised and blessed for ever and for ever! Amen.

THE THIRTY-FOURTH CHAPTER

Jesus is fastened on the Cross

After this those inhuman butchers cruelly dragged Jesus towards the Cross, and when He beheld it, the Innocent Lamb saluted it with longing desire, saying in His Heart: "O Blessed Cross! how long have I desired to embrace thee; for three-and-thirty years have I been held fast by the love of thee, that on thee I might work the salvation of men. O precious Wood! by which justice shall be done, and the debt of the prevaricator paid. O most fruitful Wood! blessed among all trees of the earth, thou alone hast been found worthy to bear the fruit of life. O chosen Tree, chosen above all trees to bear the world's ransom, become now the servant of thy Creator, Who made thee out of nothing." `Then they laid the wounded Body of that innocent Lamb flat upon the rough Cross, and one hand they fastened thereto by a thick nail, with repeated blows, so as to cause Him exceeding cruel agony. Oh! how beyond all power of suffering was this pain to our gentle Redeemer, Whose complexion was so tender and delicate, and Who was so utterly weak and exhausted by all the pains which He had already undergone. Oh! how those blows of the hammer, and the cruel nailing, pierced into the very inmost marrow of His Heart! What must have been His Heart's pain, how measureless must have been His agony, when that great and blunt nail was hammered down with unutterable torment, through the veins, and nerves, and little bones which meet in the hand! Let every man weigh with himself, what must have been His agony! And because the nail was very blunt and heavy, it drew in the skin with it into the wound, which became so filled and stopped up, that the blood could not flow therefrom. And straightway they stretched the other hand towards the hole made in the other arm of the cross, in order to nail it in like manner. But because the hole was far off, and Christ's Body was not a little contracted from cold, and blood-shedding, and all the pains He had already suffered, they stretched that hand with a rough rope, holding down, meanwhile, His other hand with extreme force. Thus did they stretch Christ's sacred arms with horrible pain, until they brought the hand to the place they desired, and there, in like manner, they pierced it with a great nail. After this, they first most cruelly stretched His sacred feet, and then fastened them with a horrible nail.

Look then, O my soul, on thy Bridegroom, Who is both thy God and thy Maker, and see how He hath gone up to the bed of His love; low wide He hath stretched out His arms to embrace thee; and how lovingly He hath invited thee to Himself, making use, as it were, of the words of the Song of Songs: "Come to Me, My sister, My bride, My dove; come, I say, into the holes of the rock, into My own sweet wounds. Come, for behold! I am ready, and our bed is covered with flowers, adorned with the roses of My wounds, and of My own precious blood. Come then, O my soul, with thy whole self, and see all that thy God hath suffered for thee. Behold, but with great compassion, how His sacred limbs have been stretched, and disjointed, and torn, and pulled, and disturbed far and wide out of their joints, so that not one cleaveth to its own place, and they can all easily be numbered. Can there be any one who is not moved to compassion by such unutterable pain? Oh! how all His sacred limbs and nerves were stretched and bent like bows, as they were drawn one towards the other. Oh! how entirely He offered Himself for us, when He had not even one limb which was not tortured in horrible agony and labour, and wholly busied in the work of our salvation. For so inhumanly was He stretched, that one limb could bring no help to another, because all alike were tortured with suffering and pain beyond all comprehension. We, indeed, if we are visited with some slight wound, can hardly suffer any one even gently to touch it; yet the whole weight of Christ's sacred Body pressed upon the wounds of His hands and feet. Oh! how pitiably were all His limbs and nerves contracted! how were all His inward parts troubled, and hurt, and worn away? This pain surpassed all grasp of human understanding; it was simply intolerable, yet it lasted for so long a time. Hence Venerable Bede saith: "Christ hanging upon the Cross, His hands and feet fastened by nails, was consumed and worn away by a slow death, and He continued in pain, not because it was a pleasure for Him still to live, but lest His Passion might too soon be over."

Let us, for a little while, be made partakers of this bitter Passion, for it was our sins which inflicted it upon the Son of God. Let us repay, in some poor way at least, our tender Lord for His Passion, so far as we are able. This surely will we do, if we wish to be conformed to His Crucifixion, and as S. Paul saith, we will crucify the flesh with its damnable vices and concupiscences, by resisting them even to blood, and so wear it away by the afflictions of the Cross, that sin may no more reign in our mortal body, and the power of concupiscence may be held ever strongly bound by the fear of God. We will so conform ourselves to Christ's Crucifixion, as if we too lay stretched upon the Cross, by taking and drawing it into our hearts with all love, so that we may say with Andrew the Apostle: `O good Cross, so long desired, and now, at last, prepared for a soul that loveth thee; behold, safely and gladly I come to thee, so that thou, too, mayest receive me with rejoicing, as a disciple of Him Who hung upon thee; for ever have I been thy lover, and ever have I desired to embrace thee."

Now this is to be understood not only of the cross of outward affliction, but of all distress and affliction, whether outward or inward, which shall happen unto us by God's permission; whether it be persecution, or annoyance, or contempt on the part of men, or the loss either of those who are dear to us, or of temporal things, or the temptation of the enemy, or inward anguish of mind on account of our want of progress; and all these crosses we will gladly take from God's hands, and stretch ourselves upon them, saying with holy David: "My heart hath waited for reproach and misery." And not only these crosses will we suffer to be laid upon us, but we will, of our own accord, go further still, by crucifying ourselves, and holding ourselves up to contempt and mockery, and making ourselves out of no account; in a word, by stripping and scourging ourselves. Now this means that, when we are despised by others, we will slight our own selves, as of no account, and heartily confess that we are a hundredfold more vile, and more worthy of contempt and scorn, than all men can bring upon, us; nay, that we are unworthy even to be despised by such noble creatures. Moreover, we will scourge, and afflict, and crucify ourselves; that is, we will make our cross heavier, and we will plant it deeper within us, by exercising ourselves therein, as holy Job saith: "I will speak in the trouble of my spirit, and I will hold converse with the bitterness of my soul." For example: when we are utterly desolate and troubled in heart because of the sins of our past life, and our exceeding great negligences and manifold vices, and because our progress in virtue is simply nothing at all; then we will not straightway hurry to confession, in order to be relieved of all this trouble – for this would be to throw away the cross, and it is ever the devil's counsel to us to say: "Come down from the cross, and save thyself," – but bravely will we cling to the cross, to which we have been fastened with Christ, by even increasing our own cross, so as to consider within ourselves how little is this distress of ours, when compared with all the wrongs and contempt which we have inflicted on the Lord of majesty, by our exceeding great iniquities, and by very often having dared, vile worms though we are, to resist so great a Lord, and transgress His will, and by not having feared to offend so loving and faithful a Father, Who is ever embracing us with such Fatherly love, and heaping upon us so many benefits.

Moreover, we will think of God's immense goodness, in that so mighty a Lord, Who might at once have avenged the wrong done to Him, hath borne all this our contempt and shameless wickedness, with so much gentleness and long-suffering. The very elements cannot bear to see their Maker wronged, but, like David's servants, when he was cursed and reviled by Semei, lift themselves up and cry for vengeance on the wrongs done their King. But our tender Lord commandeth them to cease, saying: "Suffer them to heap all this contempt upon Me; gladly will I bear it, that peradventure they may be converted and repent. For I desire not the death of a sinner, but rather that they should turn from their wickedness, and live."

Thus, then, our Lord Jesus Christ hung upon the Cross in all His immense pain, and with constancy endured His affliction; nor would He come down from the Cross either because of the curses and blasphemies of the Jews, or the immensity of His pain. But He made His torment still more grievous, by recalling to mind all the ingratitude of men, and all the wrong and contempt done and shown to His Father, and all the vengeance that would be visited upon them, and that in many His Passion would have no effect at all. Further, we will conform ourselves, to our Beloved on His Cross, that as He was lifted up thereon from the earth, so we, too, may say with holy Job: "My soul hath chosen to be hanged up, and my bones death;" and all our members; our hands, and feet, and hearts, and all the powers of our soul will we lift up, and stretch forth to God, as if to show Him praise, and love, and thanksgiving, and honour, and reverence, whereby all our inward parts may bless God, and all our bones cry out: "Lord, who is like unto Thee?"

Moreover, when we have thus, with our whole strength and our whole power, been lifted from earth towards heaven, and when we shall wait with a loving thirst for the heavenly dew and sweet influence of the Holy Ghost, saying with David: "Let my soul be filled with fat and good things, and my mouth shall utter praise with lips of rejoicing;" then, indeed, will our Lord teach us to sing a far different song from that which of old He taught the children of Israel in Babylon. For our jubilee will be turned into mourning, and our joy into grief, and instead of the songs of Sion, we shall sing with sorrowful voice: "My God, my God, why hast Thou forsaken me; I will call upon Thee in the day-time, and Thou shalt not hear." And this is that blessed hanging up which Job chose, and this the death which he desired, so as to be able to reach neither heaven nor earth, but to hang suspended between both. For to such a man earth is a cross, and he loathes it; and heaven is closed, and the clouds are forbidden to give their rain. So also did the same Job hang in his wretchedness and desolation, when he said: "If I go to the east, He appeareth not; if to the west, I shall not understand Him. If I go to the left, what shall I do? I cannot reach Him. If I turn me to the right, I shall not see Him. But He knoweth my way, and He shall prove me like gold which passeth through the fire. O truly blessed cross and holy hanging!" And while we persevere in this pitiable thirst, and in crying and groaning towards heaven, our thirst will be quenched with vinegar and gall; that is, instead of the sweetness of devotion, we shall suffer bitter and unclean thoughts, and then again we shall say with Job: "The things which formerly my soul refused to touch, have now, in my distress, become my meat." And again: "If I shall say, my bed shall comfort me, and I shall be refreshed, speaking with myself on my couch, Thou shalt frighten me with dreams, and shake me with horror by visions;" that is, if we wish to return to our exercises on the bed of our Thus, then, our Lord Jesus Christ hung upon the Cross in all His immense pain, and with constancy endured His affliction; nor would He come down from the Cross either because of the curses and blasphemies of the Jews, or the immensity of His pain. But He made His torment still more grievous, by recalling to mind all the ingratitude of men, and all the wrong and contempt done and shown to His Father, and all the vengeance that would be visited upon them, and that in many His Passion would have no effect at all. Further, we will conform ourselves, to our Beloved on His Cross, that as He was lifted up thereon from the earth, so we, too, may say with holy Job: "My soul hath chosen to be hanged up, and my bones death;" and all our members; our hands, and feet, and hearts, and all the powers of our soul will we lift up, and stretch forth to God, as if to show Him praise, and love, and thanksgiving, and honour, and reverence, whereby all our inward parts may bless God, and all our bones cry out: "Lord, who is like unto Thee?"

Moreover, when we have thus, with our whole strength and our whole power, been lifted from earth towards heaven, and when we shall wait with a loving thirst for the heavenly dew and sweet influence of the Holy Ghost, saying with David: "Let my soul be filled with fat and good things, and my mouth shall utter praise with lips of rejoicing;" then, indeed, will our Lord teach us to sing a far different song from that which of old He taught the children of Israel in Babylon. For our jubilee will be turned into mourning, and our joy into grief, and instead of the songs of Sion, we shall sing with sorrowful voice: "My God, my God, why hast Thou forsaken me; I will call upon Thee in the day-time, and Thou shalt not hear." And this is that blessed hanging up which Job chose, and this the death which he desired, so as to be able to reach neither heaven nor earth, but to hang suspended between both. For to such a man earth is a cross, and he loathes it; and heaven is closed, and the clouds are forbidden to give their rain. So also did the same Job hang in his wretchedness and desolation, when he said: "If I go to the east, He appeareth not; if to the west, I shall not understand Him. If I go to the left, what shall I do? I cannot reach Him. If I turn me to the right, I shall not see Him. But He knoweth my way, and He shall prove me like gold which passeth through the fire. O truly blessed cross and holy hanging!" And while we persevere in this pitiable thirst, and in crying and groaning towards heaven, our thirst will be quenched with vinegar and gall; that is, instead of the sweetness of devotion, we shall suffer bitter and unclean thoughts, and then again we shall say with Job: "The things which formerly my soul refused to touch, have now, in my distress, become my meat." And again: "If I shall say, my bed shall comfort me, and I shall be refreshed, speaking with myself on my couch, Thou shalt frighten me with dreams, and shake me with horror by visions;" that is, if we wish to return to our exercises on the bed of our Now, with our whole understanding, let us search out the high mystery of this venerable bed of the Cross.

So great and so measureless is the glory of the Cross, that there is nothing in it without mystery. First of all, it was made of two pieces of wood, which signify the two Testaments. For whatever the Old Testament foretold by writing and in figure, all that the New Testament announceth as truly fulfilled. Moreover, these two pieces of wood are joined together by Christ's firm faithfulness as by a strong nail, and are sealed with Christ's seal. And the Holy Cross itself, like a true bed, hath four corners, towards which the sacred members of the Son of God were stretched, that thereby it might be given us clearly to understand, that He embraceth the whole race of man; that is, all men, in one common love, and that He, as a true lover, desireth to draw them all to Himself upon His bed, from the four corners of the world. For He died for all, and desireth all men, without distinction, to be saved. And this, too, is set forth and hinted by the very form of the Cross. For its upper part signifieth that He wished to restore the ruins of the angels; the lower part, that He redeemeth the Fathers from Limbus. The right-hand side, that He protecteth His own friends, and blesseth them. The left-hand side, that He wisheth to draw to Himself, and convert His enemies, and all sinners. By the upper end is signified the opening of heaven; by the lower, the overthrow of hell; by the right arm, the diffusion of grace; by the left, the forgiveness of sins. Let us, then, according to the Apostle's instruction, be of like mind with Christ Jesus; that is, let us conform ourselves spiritually to the aforesaid Cross, so as to prepare a pleasant bed for Christ in our souls, a bed constructed with four corners, of which one shall look upwards, and another downwards, and the third within, and the fourth without. These are the four paths of life, which not only lead us to paradise, but adorn us with such pleasant beauty, that we are made a paradise of delights to God Himself, and that, as from the earthly paradise, four rivers exceeding pleasant may go forth from us, leaping up into life everlasting.

The highest corner, indeed, of this bed, or the highest extremity, is to open and stretch forth our hearts and all our desires, with our whole strength, towards God in love, gratitude, praise, reverence, lowly resignation, obedience, and subjection, so that at all moments we desire to pay to God as great a tribute of praise and honour as all creatures could wish to offer throughout endless ages. Yet not even with this ought our burning thirst to be satisfied, but we ought also humbly to pray to God, that He would Himself perfect His own praise, which no creature can perfect or even understand. The lowest extremity is to cast ourselves down so deeply in great humility, and to humble and drown ourselves therein, and to hold ourselves of such little moment, as not only to deem ourselves the vilest and most worthless of sinners in the whole world, but to desire to be esteemed such by all men, and that such may be the opinion of all men with regard to us. For of a truth, every man ought so to cast himself down into the lowest depths, as not even to be able, by all the gifts and graces of God, to be lifted up, but the more bountiful and abundant the gifts and graces which God poureth out upon him, so much the more ought he to humble himself, and to esteem himself of no moment, and to tell of and praise God's goodness, making it his whole care to wonder how God, who is so high and glorious, should have remembered even for one moment so useless, worthless, poor, and utter a worm, and that He should vouchsafe to work through him even anything at all. And the outward extremity is to be widely stretched out towards all creatures, so as to embrace all things, and all beings in heaven and on earth, and in purgatory.

And first, indeed, let us embrace the blessed spirits of heaven with loving fervour, by congratulating them on their glory, and by giving God thanks for the same, as if we ourselves enjoyed it. Then, too, let us embrace the souls imprisoned in purgatory, by suffering with them as greatly in their pains and torments, as if we ourselves bore their pains, and let us help them to the utmost of our power. Thirdly, let us be stretched out towards the rest of men, by embracing them all with love, and excluding no one, and by helping every one, and lightening every one's burden so far as we are able; and this with such love of our hearts, as to grieve that there should be even one who is beyond our help; and by performing all our works with such great love, as to wish to be of as much service to all men as to ourselves. Thus, then, let us so turn ourselves to what is outward, as ever to abide within, or at least to be able without hindrance to return within, and that thus our going out may be in reality our coming in. For, fourthly, – and this is that extremity which looketh within, – we ought, with Moses, deeply to press down all our faculties into the inward recesses, in the secret and only solitude or desert of our quiet heart, until we have passed beyond, and lost all multiplicity and unrest, and may reach, together with the same Moses, unto the adoring gaze of God's face, where in silence we will do homage to our Lord. There we shall hear God's inward voice crying in the wilderness: "Prepare ye the way of the Lord, make straight His paths." Of this wilderness our Lord speaketh in Osee: "I will lead her," He saith, that is, the loving soul, "into solitude, and there I will speak to her heart." These are the four corners or four horns of the Holy Cross and Bed of Love. And of a truth, whosoever hath constructed and made ready his bed, may with confidence invite his Lover, Christ, in the words of the loving soul, and say: "Come, my Beloved, for our bed is green with flowers."

THE THIRTY-FIFTH CHAPTER

A prayer to Jesus Crucified

Jesus, Paradise of delights, Key of David, that shuttest and no man openeth, and openest and no man shutteth, stretch forth the arms of Thy divine mercy and grace, and take me, Thy wretched creature, that flieth to Thee in his trouble. Moaning and trembling like some poor sheep, when surrounded on all sides by many and savage wolves, I come to Thee, the Good Shepherd, who hast laid down Thy life for Thy sheep. Open to me Thy sacred Wounds, that I may lie hidden therein, and be concealed from the fiery darts of the enemy. Embrace me, even as a poor mother is wont to embrace her sick child, in the bowels and arms of Thy mercy, since Thou hast willed, out of pure love for me, to be so fearfully stretched upon the Cross, and so fastened thereto with nails, that all Thy bones were torn out of their joints, and so disturbed out of their proper seat and place, that they might all easily be numbered; and thus wert Thou fastened hand and foot to the Tree of Life with horrible pain, that Thou mightest blot out, by Thine own innocent Blood, the handwriting of the old debt, which our first parents had contracted by stretching forth their hands towards the forbidden fruit of the tree of knowledge of good and evil; and that Thou mightest fasten sin to the Cross and utterly destroy it. Kill, also, within me, all the desires of the flesh, and whatever I have of self-will, or of pride, or of vicious leaning. Extinguish in me all vice, and whatever is displeasing to the eyes of Thy holiness, and stir up anew within me a good and firm spirit, and a desire of practising all virtues. Raise up all the powers of my soul by love, that I may love, praise, thank, and honour Thee, O God, my Maker and my Saviour, and that not even one of my members may cease to bless and magnify Thy holy Name. Re-make and repair me as Thy own instrument, which I myself have destroyed, and make me so subject to Thee, and obedient and pliant, that Thou mayest be able to work in me as freely and pleasantly as Thou hast ever worked in any creature. For since we have drawn into ourselves the vein of corruption from the root of the sin of our first parents, we have become prone to all wickedness. Nor can this poison of the old serpent and vicious propensity be cured, except by the divine mystery of the Holy Cross. But if, O Eternal Wisdom, human nature, when it was still in its first dignity, and abiding in itself, could not remain stable, but fell; how much less shall I, who am already corrupt and vicious, be able, by my own power, to lift myself above myself? I cannot, indeed, without Thy great mercy, be restored to my first innocence, but I shall be as one born out of due time, brought forth by his mother with continual pain, and all the labour and pain of the birth will be borne in vain.  

O tender Jesus, if Thou hast so loved me when I was lost, as to redeem me by Thy Precious Blood, and to undergo for my sake a most shameful death; how much more now wilt Thou in nowise suffer me to perish, or all Thy labour and pain to be of no effect in me. O merciful God! behold, I desire to serve and obey Thee with my whole strength. But Thou, Who hast given me this good will and desire, must also grant me the effect of good works. For from Thee is all our good, and not only Thou givest to will and to work, but also Thou preparest the heart to desire to have this good will. For what have I of myself? What have I been able to draw from the inheritance of original sin, save all corruption and proneness to every evil? Wherefore, if there be ought else in me, this is Thy work, O Lord! and it cometh from Thee, the source of all good, Who art just and holy in all Thy works.

Jesus with the Cross is lifted up on high

When, then, they had fastened Jesus to the Cross, straightway His cruel executioners raised Him, together with the Cross, with great rage, and they savagely placed the Holy Cross in the hole of the rock, and they let it fall down therein, so that by this fall all Christ's members and inward parts were shaken with cruel pain, and all the more cruel for having before been so tightly stretched. And again the Sacred Wounds of His hands and feet broke forth like fountains, and began to flow in streams. Of a truth, these are the four rivers of paradise, that go forth from the garden of pleasure, and water the whole earth.

O all ye that thirst! come to the waters, and draw with joy from the Saviour's fountains. Suck honey from the rock, and oil and wine from the hard rock. Buy without silver, and without any price, wine and milk. For truly this is that cornerstone, firm, and which cannot be shaken, rejected indeed by the Jews, but chosen by the Gentiles, which Jacob, that is to say, the Father of Heaven, raised as a sign of grace and mercy and peace, and anointed with the oil of mercy. Come all ye, as many as love God, and let us go up to the mountain of the Lord, for it is exceeding fertile, and rich, and aboundeth with all delights. The river of pleasure, which goeth out from the midst of paradise, that is, from Christ's wounded side, floweth through the whole of it. This is truly the land of promise, flowing with milk and honey. Here is seen the cluster hanging on the staff. Here is the rock twice struck with the rod, which poureth forth not only living waters, but rivers of oil; so that as many as go up this mountain may be sanctified, and may say with the loving soul in the Canticle of Canticles: "Thy name is as oil poured out." Here, also, is the vessel full of the oil of grace, which was sent by the Father upon earth, that the sick man might be healed thereby, who, going down from Jerusalem to Jericho, fell among thieves, and was left half dead from his wounds; in which also is contained the price of our salvation. And this vessel was not only pierced in many places, but its end was also knocked out, so that every man may draw therefrom as it pleaseth him. And this Christ testifieth concerning Himself, when He saith, "I was poured out like water." Moreover, although the vessel is small, yet it is ever full, having been blessed by God, so that never will the oil fail, as long as there are empty vessels to receive it.

Now for this reason was Christ lifted up, that the enemy, with his whole strength, might be thrown down. He was taken and lifted up from the earth, that He might draw us after Him, far away from every earthly lust. He was lifted up on high, that, looking upon us, His sheep, wandering afar off, He might bring us back to Him by a look of grace and mercy. Moreover, He was lifted up into the  air, that He might purify it from demons, as He had purified the earth by His precious Blood-shedding, and at the same time might open to us a safe road to heaven. He was lifted up, one part of His Cross being raised on high, the other resting on the earth; and thus He hung between the two, that He might unite earth with heaven; that is, men with angels, peace between them not as yet having been established, and might show to us that He will be the Eternal Mediator and Peace-Maker between His Father and man. Hence, as a solid wall for the house of Israel, He set Himself against God's anger, and took upon Himself all the weapons of divine wrath and vengeance, so that He was covered with deadly wounds.

Come, then, all ye faithful, and behold how your Saviour, Leader, and King fighteth for you, and delivereth you from your enemies, and restoreth you to your first freedom. Now is the standard of victory, the trophy of the Cross, lifted up, under which we must fight, and which we must guard from all who may oppose it or come in its way. Let us be glad, then, let us rejoice, let us glory in the Holy Cross of our Lord Jesus Christ, that, despising every kind of arms, by this Cross alone hath He willed to cast down His enemy. And He so loved it, that He came down to earth to seek it, for heaven beareth not this kind of tree; and He feared not to become a stranger to His glory and His joy, and an exile from His own kingdom, and to undergo all ignominy, and pain, and trouble, that He might embrace this Cross. Thus S. Paul saith: "Let us look to Jesus, the author and finisher of our faith, Who, when joy was proposed to Him, bore the Cross, and despised the shame, nay, and all affliction that could happen to Him.

Moreover, by the fact that our Lord was crucified, not within the city, or inside a house, but outside in an open plate, is signified to us that He came to redeem, not merely the house of Israel, and that He died not only for the Jewish people, but the whole world. Thus, in the Canticle of Canticles, when He saith: "I am the flower of the field, and the lily of the valley," He doth not call Himself the lily of the garden, planted and brought up by the care of men, for He sprang from untilled earth, that is, from the untouched womb of His Virgin-Mother. He is also the Lamb without spot, and the white lily, the offspring of the valley of tears, which, being aforetime accursed, brought forth only thorns and briars, but which now offereth its first-fruits to God, with a new benediction. Now, we may here observe, that our Lord hath given us His own loving-kindness, for our earth hath brought forth its fruit, and truth hath arisen out of this same earth of ours. Of a surety, He is that fair lily of our valley, of sparkling whiteness, that lighteth up the whole world with its splendour, and filleth it with the sweet odour of its scent, that is, of His virtue; and there go forth from it rays of gold, that is, His Godhead, which lieth hidden under the white leaves of His most pure manhood. Let, then, our earth rejoice at being adorned with so fair a fruit: let our valley cease from mourning; nor let it be called any more the valley that hath been forsaken, and left barren and accursed, but the valley of fruitfulness, and the soil of fatness, and the field of plenty, which the Lord hath blessed. For what of old had become tainted by the taste of the serpent's poison, hath now been purified again by the balm of Christ's Precious Blood, and hath been watered by heavenly dew, through the pouring out of the Holy Ghost, so that it hath brought forth not one only, but numberless lilies, amongst which the loving soul declareth that her Beloved walketh and feedeth. For as many as there are men on earth of a clean heart, who love God, so many lilies hath our valley brought forth. And among these the Spouse feedeth with delight; here He walketh with exceeding pleasantness; here He dwelleth with great desire; here it is His delight to be; and here, too, is the food on which He most gladly feedeth, namely, that His Father's will may be accomplished. But what are all these other lilies compared with that single Lily, from whose seed all the rest have sprung, and borrowed their beauty, and form, and odour, – by the very odour of which serpents and all corrupt things are driven away?

Hither, then, like the busy bee, let us fly, passing from Wound to Wound, nor let us enjoy any other food, for these flow with honey. And what else are Christ's sacred and honeyed words upon the Cross, but flowers flowing with honey, which springs up from the cup of the lily, that is, the Holy Cross? Now, if we diligently press these, we shall be able to suck honey therefrom.

So also our Lord Jesus is that Divine Light, which the Father of heaven hath sent on earth, and which lay so long hidden under the bushel of Christ's lowly Humanity, but which was now taken up, and set upon the candlestick of the Cross, that as many as are in the house of the Church may be enlightened thereby. The Jews, indeed, broke the bushel in many places, and the Light began to pour itself forth through its chinks, so that a certain dark house which stood very near it was all lit up with its rays, and a voice came forth therefrom, and cried: "Lord, remember me when Thou comest to Thy kingdom." But if the power and efficacy of this light was so great when it shone only through the chinks, what would it have done when the whole bushel had been utterly broken, and it was able to shed forth its splendour without any hindrance? Of a surety, we should have seen not one, but many enlightened, beating their breasts, crying out; mourning, groaning, and saying: "Of a truth, this Man was the Son of God!" For as we read that after the death of Joseph the children of Israel were multiplied, so also, after Christ's death, the number of those who believed was increased.

But let us go back to Christ's wounded Body, and with a certain sensible, affectionate compassion, let us behold the torment whereby He is surrounded; for, indeed, there was not one member which was not torn out of its place with pain unutterable. Oh! how full of pain were those arms of His so fearfully stretched! How did the torments of those wounds pierce His Heart, as they bore up for so long a time the whole weight of His Body! How great was the anguish of His sacred Soul, when, deprived of all comfort and light, it bore all this Cross and pain in its own weight! Truly, the scale was laden as much as it could bear, and the other scale carried the sins of the whole world. Now, if there be in us one little spark of love, if any bowels of compassion are left us, we cannot but compassionate our Maker and our Saviour, when we see Him hanging here so pitiably before our eyes. For who would not have compassion even on some brute beast, if it was thus treated? And, indeed, our tender Jesus not only hung there in intolerable pain, in order to move us to tears and compunction, but to inflame and provoke us in like manner to love, by every proof and sign of love. He was lifted up on high that He might be seen by all: He stretched out His arms wide that He might embrace us all. He was fastened with hard and rough nails to the Cross, that He might lead us by longsuffering to penance. From His whole Body there flowed forth blood, that in all abundance He might give us to drink of His best medicine, His own precious Blood. Great and deep were His Wounds, that we might have ever open access to Him, and a safe hiding and resting-place from every attack of temptation and affliction. His Side He suffered to be pierced, that we might have an open way into His Heart. With a loud voice He cried out, that He might be heard by all. Bitterly He wept, that He might move us all to compunction, devotion, and compassion. His Head He bowed down, that He might give us the kiss of reconciliation and of love. Who then, after this, can be of so wicked and perverse a heart, so hardened in sin, as not to be moved by all these signs of love, and inflamed to love Him in return as much as he can, and, indeed, with his whole strength, for His love is beyond all understanding?

Who is there who will not wholly turn to Him, Whom he sees thus wholly turned to himself, especially if he observe Who He is Who asketh for this love, and from whom it is asked? Marvellous, indeed, it is, that the heart of a man who weigheth these things as they deserve, should not be turned within itself for exceeding wonder, and wholly melt away with love. Who will despair of forgiveness when he seeth all these proofs and signs of mercy?

As many, therefore, of us, as have been bitten, and wounded, and tainted by the pestilential serpent, let us fly beneath the Cross of our Lord Jesus. Let us look, not on the brazen serpent hanging on a pole, but on Jesus, the true Son of God, hanging on the Cross, Who offereth us the health-giving balm of His precious Blood. Let us say with a mournful voice, like S. Bernard: "Of what art Thou guilty, sweet Boy? What hast Thou done, O loving Youth? What is Thy crime? What the cause of Thy condemnation? Of a truth, I am the cause of Thy pain. That which the wicked servant hath done, his Lord hath undone; the debt which the unjust man hath contracted, the Just One hath paid. O, Son of God! to what depth hath Thy lowliness descended, when for me Thou hast been made obedient unto death, even the death of the Cross? Concupiscence drew me to what is unlawful: holy love hath drawn Thee, for my sake, to the Cross. I took an apple, Thou art torn with nails. I tasted that apple's sweetness, Thou tastest the bitterness of gall. Eve rejoiceth with me in my wretchedness; Mary, weeping, hath compassion on Thee at the Crucifixion. I lifted up my head proudly towards the forbidden fruit, Thou hast bent Thy Head to the crown of thorns. O Jesus, the Eternal health of all who believe in Thee, the Redeemer of all who hope in Thee, may Thy Cross be for me a sure protection against all my enemies. May Thy wounds be for me a sure refuge in every temptation; hide me therein, until the concupiscence and heat of sin shall have passed away. May Thy innocent Blood, flowing from Thy sacred hands, wash away the foulness of my sinful acts; and again, I raise up my hands and all my members to Thee in devotion, prayer, love, praise, thanksgiving, and an accomplishment of Thy most gracious will. May the Wounds of Thy feet wipe away the remembrance of the wanderings of my perverse journeys, and henceforward direct my feet into the way of everlasting life, and suffer me not to wander from the paths of Thy commandments. Amen."

THE THIRTY-SEVENTH CHAPTER

Jesus was numbered with thieves

Moreover, our Lord Jesus Christ was numbered with transgressors, and lifted upon the Cross between two thieves, as if He had been the chief thief. This was done by the wickedness of the Jews, that Christ, Who was in Himself most innocent, might share in their guilt, and that all might believe that He was like to them in conduct, since He had been condemned to like punishment; and that thus through the wickedness of others He might become infamous, Who was Himself the Just One. But our humble Jesus refused not to hang between those for whom He desired to die. And, indeed, He was numbered with the transgressors upon earth, that we might be numbered among the choirs of angels in heaven. For a little while His good name was blotted out amongst men, that our names might be written for ever in the Book of Life. He was hung up between two thieves, not as partaker of their wickedness, but that He might make them partakers of His Godhead. He hung, I say, between them, not as their fellow in murder, but as the Medicine of Life. He hung between the transgressors, not as a wicked one, but as the Judge, signifying thereby that all power had been given Him in heaven and on earth, and that He had been appointed to be the Judge of the living and the dead. This was why He ascended the judgment-seat of the Holy Cross between two of the wicked, that He might in His mercy bestow life upon the one, and in His justice pass sentence of death everlasting upon the other, and that He might show in like manner that in His hands was the empire of life and of death. By this He also shadowed forth the form of the judgment to come, when He will place the good on His right hand and the wicked on His left.             

THE THIRTY-EIGHTH CHAPTER

Of the glorious title of Christ's Cross

Moreover, Pilate, according to the custom of the Romans, wrote the cause of Christ's death upon a tablet, and commanded it to be fastened above the Cross. Written in three languages, were these words: "Jesus of Nazareth, the King of the Jews." And although Pilate was a heathen man, yet he wrote this at the dictation of the Holy Ghost, for the shame indeed and confusion of the Jews, but for the glory and triumph of Christ. Thus, although that wicked nation refused to acknowledge Christ as their King during His life-time, yet at His Passion, by that most true title, they were forced to acknowledge Him even against their will, and to confess the truth before the whole city. By this title the great cruelty of the Jews and Christ's justice are also declared, since in their wickedness they had put their own King to a shameful death, having no other cause against Him, except that He was their King. From this, also, it is clear that Christ's Death was undeserved, since no other cause of death was inscribed on the title, nor could be inscribed. Thus the power of God Almighty worked secretly in the unbeliever's heart, so that he could not write otherwise than as he was inspired by God; nor could he change it, although this was asked of him by the Jews. For the Jews would not hear Pilate, when he said he found no cause in our Lord; wherefore, also, he himself gave not unto them, but said: "What I have written, I have written." Thus he avenged Himself on the Jews, so that all the fault and the evil fell upon them. By this title, too, our Lord was separated from the thieves, so that every one might perceive, that not for any crime of His own, but out of pure love He had laid down His life for His friends.

Now by these four words of the title are declared the hidden mysteries of the Holy Cross. By the first word, "Jesus," that is, Saviour, are expressed the cause and virtue of the Cross, for by the Holy Cross we are all saved and healed; and as by the wood of disobedience we were lost, so by the wood of obedience we are saved. And this was why our Lord chose the death of the cross. By the second word, "of Nazareth," that is, the "flower" or "green thing," is shown to us that Christ hung not on the Cross, a small, dry, and barren wood, but like the grape upon the vine, or the flower upon the stem, since He is Himself the most noble flower of the rod of Jesse, whereon the Holy Ghost hath rested. Like the grape, too, He is pressed out, that He may minister to us in all abundance the delightful draught of His own precious Blood. By the third word, "King;" are signified to us the immense power and empire of Christ, which He won by the victory of the Cross, as S. Paul saith: "Christ was made obedient unto death, even the death of the Cross; wherefore, also, God hath highly exalted Him, and given Him a name which is above every name." Lastly, by the fourth word, "of the Jews," is declared, not only that He was King of the Jews, but also of all believers; for Juda signifieth "one who confesseth." Hence our Lord saith: "Whosoever shall confess Me before men, I also will confess him before My Father." And, of a truth, as many as here refuse to confess Him as their King will one day feel Him to be the just Judge, Who shall condemn them, as He Himself saith in the Gospel: "But these Mine enemies, who would not have Me to reign over them, bring them here, and slay them before Me."

Moreover, this title was placed, not on the side of, nor under, but above the Cross. For although the weakness of His human flesh was tortured on the Cross, and was held up to contempt, yet above the Cross was His Royal Majesty, and there shone the glory of His kingdom, which He obtained not in time, nor from man, but which He possessed by His own divine power from everlasting. Again, this title was written, not in the language of one nation only, but in the three chief tongues: Greek, Latin, and Hebrew. The Hebrews, or the Jews, as being instructed in the law of the Lord, were at that time of all men the most religious. The Greeks were held to be the wisest of all. The Latins, or Romans, with whom lay the highest power, and who were lords of the whole world, were judged to be the most mighty of mankind. Now these three languages met together on the title of Christ's Cross, and bore witness that He was the King and Lord of all religion, and wisdom, and power; for the empire of the whole world, and all wisdom, and all religion and holiness alike bear witness that He was the true King of the Jews, that is, of believers, and that all power, and wisdom, and holiness flow from Him, as from their source.

Moreover, many of the Jews, as the Evangelist saith, read this title. Let us, then, read it as true Jews, that is, true confessors of Christ, and not like the Jews of old, with contempt; but let us read it, and devoutly meditate thereon, by ever impressing it on our hearts, and by wearing it as a shield against all temptations. For this is the title of His triumphant victory, showing how all the might of the enemy hath been broken in pieces by the power of Christ's Cross. Let us confess that Jesus, that is, the true Redeemer of the world, is the Lamb without spot, that taketh away the sins of the world; and let us humbly pray Him that He would vouchsafe to heal our souls, and cleanse us from every stain of sin. Let us confess also that He is "of Nazareth;" that is, the "flower of flowers," the flourishing green thing, by praying that He may make us flourish and advance in all virtue. Let us confess, thirdly, that He is the true King of the Jews, that is, of believers, for all power is given to Him in heaven and on earth. For in Him the heavenly spirits rejoice, and with great reverence do they adore Him, trembling and affrighted before His measureless power, marvelling at His incomprehensible wisdom, praising His infinite goodness, confessing that He is the Almighty God, before Whom the armies of heaven fall upon their faces, and cast down their crowns, and giving back to Him the glory which they received from Him, by acknowledging that all honour and glory have come forth from Him, and to Him must be given back. If, then, in this way, we read the title of Christ's Cross, we shall be true Jews, true children of Abraham, and Christ will be our King and our Saviour, and He will reign over us, and defend us, and after this He will take us into His own kingdom, and make us joint-heirs with Him in the kingdom of His Father.

THE THIRTY-NINTH CHAPTER

Jesus clotheth those who had crucified Him

After this, the executioners who had crucified Christ, and they were four, divided His poor garments amongst them, taking each man his part. But for His tunic, which was seamless, they cast lots. In this is seen Christ's immense humility, that He Who was the Lord of glory should be delivered into the hands of wretches so vile and needy, that with care and exactness they divided amongst them such simple garments, and of such little price. O! how hath the loftiness of heaven bowed itself down! O unutterable patience of Christ; Who saw these things done under His eyes, and yet suffered them! Of a truth this is that innocent Lamb, Who, when He was offered for the sins of the world, opened not His Sacred Mouth against them that mocked Him; and speared and struck Him, but meekly covered His murderers with His own garments. Moreover, the division of His garments into four parts may be taken to represent the diffusion of the faith into the four quarters of the world, so that all might be made glad by the crucifixion of our Lord Jesus, and might have a share therein, and that by believing in Christ, might deserve to be clothed with, and to put on, Christ, even as the sun covereth and adorneth the earth, and as wood clotheth itself with fire. And the seamless tunic, which on this account was not divided, signifieth the indissoluble bond of love, and the wedding and no less indivisible garment of charity, which is indeed our chief garment, for it hideth all the shame and baseness of sin. This garment is not torn by men, but it is given by lot. Now this declareth to us the incomprehensible judgments of God, Who knoweth who are His, and whom He hath chosen, and whom He hath not chosen; who are to be clothed, and who are to be sent away in their nakedness. And to His elect, indeed, He giveth the garment of charity, by the outpouring of the Holy Ghost.

Moreover, from this we may draw spiritual instruction, that he who would be a true lover and follower of Christ, must be so stripped naked with Christ, and despoiled of all help or support, as not to keep even a thread of anything belonging to him, nor even to have anything whereon to lay his head. As Isaias saith, he must be purified in the fire of poverty and desolation, even as gold is proved in the fire, and as the grain of wheat is separated by repeated blows and shakings from the chaff. Even so, I say, must such a man be so utterly stripped naked, and unclothed of all spiritual coverings, (which by daily exercise he hath put on, as to think them something belonging to him, or that he hath acquired them by his own zeal and diligence,) until to himself, and in his own sight, he becometh wholly vile and nothing; and so can serve God with the same peace of mind and without any choice of his own, in want, and desolation, and affliction, as in delight, and consolation, and joy. And these garments, which he deemeth his own, and which he thinketh that he possesseth, as it were, by hereditary right, ought, in his eyes, to pass into the hands of others; that is to say, all his pure and religious life, and his spiritual garments, by which he believeth himself to be adorned and glorified, ought to be torn to tatters by others, and treated with reproach, and contempt, and shame, and le himself held up as an impostor and a hypocrite, and his whole life judged to be full of deceit and hypocrisy. Thus together with Christ will he be numbered: with the wicked and the transgressors.

It was in this way that the disciples and friends of Christ have suffered persecutions, and all their holiest efforts and works have been held of no account, as a certain one amongst them hath said: "I suppose that God hath set us apostles the last of all, as it were, appointed to death, for we are made a spectacle to the world, and to angels, and to men. We are cursed, and bless; we suffer persecution, and bear it; we are blasphemed, and entreat; we are made as the refuse of the world, the offscouring of all things unto this day." Thus must the noble grain of wheat lie hidden for a little while in the earth, and be worn away by divers storms, and die in itself, if it is to bring forth fruit. For it refuseth to be an Abel, whom the malice of a Cain doth not try. But how blessed a thing is this persecution of Cain, and the trouble which we suffer therefrom! How clearly by this winnowing is the grain separated from the chaff. How many proud minds remain unknown, as long as they are tried by no temptations or contempt, but which would certainly betray themselves, were they heavily touched. Hence the Prophet saith: "Touch the hills and they shall smoke." And Isaac saith to Jacob: "Come hither, my son, that I may touch thee, and see whether thou art indeed my very son Esau, or not."

But let us go back to the Cross of our Lord, and with great devotion and compassion look upon our Maker and Saviour, hanging so pitiably in agony, without friends, or any thing of His own, or any comfort, forsaken from on high, and from below, racked by pain of every kind within and without, despoiled of all that could soften His pains, while everything happened to Him that could possibly make them greater. Let us look closely, I pray, at this King of ours, so pitiable and forsaken. He weareth, indeed, His crown, and He hath a royal title, but where are His courtiers? Where is His camp? Where are His palaces? Of a truth He hangeth here under the sky of heaven. Where is His purple? Where are His robes, glittering with gold? Where His state, as becometh royal magnificence? Where, even, are His Body and His Blood? Of a surety His whole Body is consumed and wasted by the fire of love, as He Himself saith: "The zeal of Thy house hath eaten me up." His Blood sinners have drunk. What shall He give us, I ask, Who hath nothing left at all: – no, not the least thing, however little, on which He can lean His Head; Who hath no roof, no possession, no inheritance, no garments? All, all hath been taken away. Nevertheless, let us go up to this mountain of myrrh, and with the mourning turtle, let us fly up to the palm-tree of the Cross, and see if we can find any fruit. Of a truth, we shall find enough, and more than enough, if our earnestness in searching fail not. He hath still a tongue, to utter words of comfort, words of salvation, and instruction. And if that is not enough for us with which the thief was content, let us go up yet a little higher. For He hath still His Heart left whole; with that He will pray to His Father for us. He hath still consciousness, full of devotion, grace, and love. He will give us to drink of that wine, which He gave to His beloved disciple, who lay upon His breast. And if even this doth not satisfy us, see! He will gladly suffer His side to be transfixed, and His Heart to be pierced, and opened, and in the love of His burning Heart, He will give us His Blood to drink, – sweet draught, indeed, and pleasant exceedingly, for it is the draught of the love of God. Lastly, He will give us even His holy Soul, full of grace and merits, and adorned with all virtue. What more can we ask of our sweet God and Lord? Behold, He giveth all that He hath, all that He is; all that He can give. Then let us, too, give Him our whole selves in return.

THE FORTIETH CHAPTER

Jesus is attacked with blaspshemies

Nowere sat not far from the Cross, the executioners, who kept guard over Christ, and waited for the end. And let us also wait for the death of Christ, not as they did, out of hatred, but with bitter sorrow, watching for our salvation to be ended by Christ; nor let us go away from the Cross, since our whole salvation is hanging thereon. A certain soul, glowing with love, hath said: "I sat under His shadow, Whom I desired, and His fruit is sweet to my mouth." And what can be sweeter to the soul that loveth, than after the distractions, and the labours, and the many troubles which happen to her in this valley of tears, whether she will or no, and which weary her, to take breath under the shadow of the health-giving Cross, and to refresh herself, and to collect her distracted senses, and to strengthen herself in her exhaustion with the delightful fruit of this tree, and to drink her fill of the torrent of her Beloved's Sacred Side, which floweth indeed with milk and honey? The Jewish people waited for the end: let us, too, persevere to the end, nor let us go aside from the cross until our salvation be accomplished thereon; for whoever shall persevere to the end, the same shall be saved; and in like manner, let it only be together with our life that we finish our penance.

The Jews watched for the end, because neither by blood, nor cruelty, nor by torture, could they glut their rage. And because in their serpent hearts they could think no more of any kind of torment, whereby to torture Christ's Body; at the last, their hands failing, they began to crucify our Lord with their tongues. O unutterable wickedness! O unheard-of hatred! O cruelty without measure! In their devilish rage they wagged their sacrilegious heads, and spat upon Him, and said: "Vah! Thou Who destroyest the temple, and in three days buildest it again!" Oh! thine immense blindness, thou wicked Jew! Thou believest not what thou seest before thy very eyes! Already – now, even now, is the temple destroyed, and it is thou who hath destroyed it; but wait for three days, and thou shalt see it built again! O unutterable perversity and wickedness of the Jews, who put forth their whole strength, that, as they had worn away His Body, and reduced it almost to nothing, so also they might utterly blot out His glorious Name! But the more eagerly they tried to do this, so much the more did they exalt Christ, and add to His Name greater splendour and glory. They thought, indeed, that they could utterly blot it out by a shameful death, but they only raised it up the higher, as that of a judge upon his throne. With their own hands they built for Him a column, on which was placed the title of His Royal Majesty; and not only could they not suppress His Name within their own nation, but they spread it abroad all the more among all nations, and caused it to be extolled; so that they who before had not known Christ might read and know that He was the very King of Israel. Wherefore, by their very insults they honoured Christ, and against their will added praise to praise. For they were so full of malice and wickedness, that if they had known aught of evil against Him, beyond all doubt they would have brought it forth, and cast it against Him. But because in that most pure gold, so many times tried in the fire of affliction, and of the Cross, they had been unable to find any dross, they tried to cast shame upon His virtues, and His glorious miracles, and His Divine Name. O most blind Jews! how just do ye declare our Lord to be, when ye have nothing in your malice to reproach Him with, save what is pure, and holy, and divine; as, for example, that He had: raised the dead to life, that He had given health to the sick, that He had done marvellous works; in a word, that He was the Son of God.

Now this we too hold with undoubting faith. For had He not been Very God, of a surety He could not have worked these wonders. When ye saw these great wonders, ye would not believe; now, therefore, ye have been utterly caught in your mad wickedness, so that against your will ye confess that "He saved others." Ye throw it in His teeth that He is the King of Israel, as we saw when speaking of the title of the Cross. And hereafter ye shall see as your stern Judge, sentencing you to everlasting fire, Him Whom you have just condemned to the death of the Cross. Ye make it a reproach to Him that He hath God for His Father. Within three days ye shall indeed prove the truth of this, when God the Father shall raise Him from the dead, and yet again, when Christ shall Himself ascend to His Father in heaven.

But now let every man weigh with himself, and meditate with great compassion and sorrow, how the tender Heart of Christ must have been afflicted, when He, Whose nature is goodness itself, beheld all this hateful and obstinate wickedness of the Jews, and at the same time knew, by His divine wisdom, how it was from the malice and the hatred of their hearts that they vomited forth these reproaches and blasphemies. Of a truth, if over and above this they could have heaped upon Him aught of reproach or of wrong, in nowise would they have shrunk therefrom. Then, indeed, could our tender Lord say in His Heart: "My people, what have I done to thee, or how have I troubled thee? Why art thou so cruel, so furious against the God Who made thee? Why art thou so made of rock and stone, that My warm Blood, which thou seest falling on the ground like water, and at the very touch of which the rocks themselves are torn asunder, cannot soften thy heart nor warm it, no, nor even touch it? See how the senseless elements, and creatures without reason, show signs of sorrow; and thou, My people, whom I have enlightened with a singular knowledge of My Godhead, whom I have taught the law and spiritual ceremonies, whom I have treated with such kindness, hast lifted thyself up against thy God, and hast forgotten all His benefits.

"It was for thy sake that I smote Egypt with many plagues; thou, on the contrary, hast smitten Me with many blows. Marvellously did I lead thee out of Egypt; I dried up the Red Sea beneath thy footsteps; I laid low thine enemies without any labour to thee; but thou hast delivered Me to Pilate, and eagerly plotted for My death. In the wilderness for forty years I fed thee with manna; thou hast given Me gall and vinegar to drink. I led thee through the wilderness; by day I sheltered thee from the heat with a cloud, by night I gave thee light in the pillar of fire; thy garments were not worn out: but thou hast led Me cross-laden unto death, and hast stripped Me of My garments, and placed Me naked on the Cross. I honoured thee with a royal sceptre; but thou hast crowned Met with thorns, and given Me a reed for My sceptre; and after having mocked Me, killed Me. What can I do to thee, that at last thy malice may cease? My Body and My Blood I gave to thee, and My fresh fair nature I suffered thee well nigh to wear away. For three and thirty years I laboured for thy conversion, and thou: wouldst not hear Me. Now, at least, I pray thee, let My bitter Passion; and numberless Wounds, and burning tears, soften thee, whom My words could not turn; let My warm Blood warm thee, whom so many of My miracles could not touch."

But those wretched ones, like mad dogs, cried out in answer: "If Thou art the Son of God, come down from the Cross!"

O Jesus! unvanquished Lion; heed them not; place no faith in their deceitful words. For they who would not believe, even if one were to rise from the dead, would not now believe, wert Thou to come down from the Cross! Come not down, good Jesus; but finish the work of our salvation upon Thy Cross, for all our salvation lieth in Thy death. Suffer in patience, meanwhile, their blasphemies and reproaches, and teach us the power of charity and patience, by praying for Thine enemies. In this the Jews showed themselves to be the children and disciples of the devil, by following their father, who had already before this said to Christ: "If Thou art the Son of God, cast Thyself down!" But, good Jesus, come not down, but rather let the prayer of Thy Heart mount upwards to Thy Father. Let this, Thy innocent Blood, reconcile the Father to us, and plead from the Cross for us; and then afterwards go up Thyself to Thy Father in heaven, and prepare a place for us, and open to us an entrance into heaven!

And now, O most merciful Father of heaven, look down upon the torn coat of Thy beloved Son Joseph, which He left in the hands of the wicked woman, that is, of the adulterous race of the Jews, choosing rather to lose His own garment than His innocence, and to be stripped of the covering of His body, and to be cast into prison, than to consent to her deceitful words.

Moreover, at the same time, both the chief priests and the elders persecuted our Lord with blasphemies and reproaches, saying: "He saved others, Himself He cannot save. If He be the King of Israel, let Him come down from the Cross." But Christ dwelt not on those blasphemies, but bore them in patience, desiring to fulfil the works of perfect love, not desiring to save Himself, that He might save many, and choosing to continue in those horrible pains, that He might deliver all men from torments everlasting. From this we may clearly gather how faithfully our Lord Jesus worked out our salvation, when on account neither of the bitterness of His pain, nor of the calumnies and reproaches of the Jews, nor of His Mother's measureless woes, nor for any cause whatever, even for a moment, did He pause in the work of our salvation, with which He was then engaged upon the Cross. And we, on the other hand, how often are we called away by light causes from the service of God, and from earnestness in prayer, and fasting, and watching, and acts of penance! How easily do we wound charity, when at one little word we lay aside patience, not considering all the shame, and reproach, and ignominy, and contempt, which the King of Glory suffered from His own chosen people. And yet most certainly was He grievously tormented in heart at these things. Pitiably doth He complain by the mouth of His Prophet of the sharpness of this internal pain: "And, indeed, if Mine enemy had spoken evil against Me, I would indeed have borne it. But thou, the man of My peace, in whom I hoped, and who eat My bread, hath magnified deceit upon Me, and lifted up his head against Me!"

O how sorely stricken was that meek Lamb, when His own peculiar people blasphemed Him, and visited Him with reproach and calumny, since, instead, they ought rather to have praised, and loved, and thanked Him, because He, the true God, had not refused, for man's salvation, to die so shameful a death.

Nor was it only against the Son of God that these wicked ones blasphemed, but, moreover, they let loose their tongues, as so many ready instruments of the devil, in order to wrong and blaspheme His Father, saying: "He trusted in God: let Him deliver Him now, if He will, for He said: I am the Son of God!" O wicked and impious people, whither hath the evil spirit led thee, that thou shouldst throw in the teeth of the Father of mercies His own goodness? Did He do thee any wrong, when He opened His Fatherly bosom, and poured forth the riches of His grace, and sent His only One upon earth, to take upon Him human nature from thy own race, in order that He might go in search of the lost sheep of thy house, and heal them, – and by giving Himself up to death for thy salvation, might pay thy heavy debt in the precious Blood of His beloved Son? And in return for these His benefits, thou vomitest out blasphemies upon Him, as if He could not help His Son, Who, although He died Himself, will one day recall all the dead by one word to life, and Who, also, by a word, hath made the heavens and the earth. Let us consider what a grievous cross it must have been to our Lord Jesus to hear such blasphemy against His Father, knowing how grievously it stirred up His Father's anger, and how horrible was the judgment hanging over them. Of a truth, all His bowels were moved to pity at the mad blindness of His people, and with a last voice He cried out to the Father: "Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do?"

O incomprehensible goodness of Christ! He did now, what formerly He had taught when He said, that we should love our enemies, and pray for them who persecute us, and what the Prophet had long ago foretold of Him: "They who loved Me spoke evil against Me, but I prayed." They cursed Him, and He blessed them: and although so great was their wickedness as not to admit of excuse; nevertheless, so far as He could, He made excuse for them to the Father, saying: "Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do?" O marvellous power of this prayer, poured forth, as it was, in such anguish, and with such love! For when others, by reason of the vehemence of pain, easily forget even their dearest friends, and cannot pray even for themselves, Christ prayed for His enemies. Yet this His prayer was poured forth not only for them, who then crucified Him with their hands, and blasphemed Him with their tongues, but also for all those who still crucify our Lord Jesus by their wicked actions, and blaspheme Him by their sins. These, of a truth, know not what they do; for they are seized with a five-fold blindness. First, they know not how fearfully they stir up the power of the just Judge, by despising the commandments of so mighty a Lord. Secondly, they know not how merciful a Father they offend, how faithful a protector they abandon, Whose friendship they lose. Thirdly, they do not know how shamefully they disfigure their own fair and noble souls, which have been made to God's image. Fourthly, they do not know how horrible are the torments of hell, which they deserve. Fifthly, they do not know how great is the glory and the joy of heaven, which they lose.

Here we may learn that we should firmly persevere in those crosses which God permitteth to come upon us, and with S. Andrew the Apostle, suffer not ourselves to be loosened therefrom by men, but that we should remain with constancy upon the cross, until our Lord Himself loosen and free us therefrom. Nor, either by reason of the grievousness of the cross, or the reproaches and scoffs of men, or for the sake of relief and comfort, should we go down from the cross, when we have once taken it up. For this would be to consent to the devil, who is ever whispering in our ears: "Come down from the cross, and save thyself." Some men forsake the cross of some light affliction, and throw aside their patience, and for some little word or slight adversity, cease to walk in Christ's footsteps, in which they had begun to tread. Others leave the cross of holy religion, for some small temptation, after they have entered thereon. Others, again, put off the cross of penance, for the sake of some little pleasure of the world, and in order to be comforted for a very little while. These have forsaken Christ's-footsteps, and given themselves to the devil, who is ever crying in the hearts of men, that they should come down from the cross, and save themselves, and satisfy their pleasures and lusts, and indulge the affections of their nature, and refresh their spirit meanwhile with vain comforts and delights. "It is not thy business," he saith, "to practise hard penance, to observe the austerity of religion, and to die daily to thyself. Wilt thou kill thyself! Come down quickly from the cross and save thyself."

THE FORTY-FIRST CHAPTER

A devout confession and prayer for sins

O Jesus, inexhaustible abyss of patience, Whose nature is goodness, to Whom it belongeth ever to have mercy, and to spare, behold I, the greatest of sinners, whose sins are more in number than the sand of the sea, throw myself at Thy pierced feet, waiting for Thy immense goodness, and Thy great mercy, which Thou didst show Thy tormentors, when they fastened Thee to the Cross, and humbly trusting that Thou wilt not refuse me this same grace. Wherefore, with great love I embrace Thy holy Cross with my arms, and with all lowliness, and devotion, and reverence, I adore Thee, my God, and Lord, and Saviour, hanging upon the Cross, crowned with thorns, pierced with nails, racked in all Thy members, covered with blood, disfigured with wounds, despised, mocked at, forsaken, full of all pain within and without, tormented by the draught of vinegar and gall.

O Jesus, Eternal Sweetness, I, a foul sinner, in the bitter grief of my heart, confess to Thee my grievous sin, and that I am the cause of Thy bitter Passion, and have inflicted upon Thee these Thy grievous torments, by my grievous sins. Of a truth, Thou hast suffered far more from me than from those who crucified Thee, for the wrong and the contempt which Thou foresawest that I should bring upon Thy Father, gave Thee more grievous pain than those cruel wounds of Thy Body. Nor is it once only that I have crucified Thee, but my whole life long. Of Thy tormentors, indeed, it is written: "Had they known, they would never have crucified the Lord of glory," but I, indeed, wicked that I am, have known Thee, and yet have crucified Thee times without number, and I have wounded and mocked Thee, and shed even Thy precious Blood. For why did Thy precious Blood flow forth so abundantly from Thy Body, except because, like the grape, Thou wert pressed out under the grievous weight of my sins? Why were Thy wounds so many, except because of my numberless sins? For because I myself have increased my sins, Thou also didst multiply Thy pains. And what else is the gall and vinegar which Thou drankest, but my bitter and wicked actions, which I offered to Thy lips? From whom hast Thou suffered so many mockeries as from me, when I feared not to anger Thee, the King of Israel, yea, and I confess, of heaven and of earth, and so adorable and worshipful a Lord, by despising Thy holy commandments! What else have I done to Thee, except with the sacrilegious Jews to blaspheme Thee, and say: "Come down from the Cross; never more will I consent to sin, or transgress Thy law:" and then straightway I have crucified Thee again. Yet not even after sins such as these, and after all the wrongs I have done Thee, do I in any way despair of Thy grace and mercy; but full of trust, I confess to Thee my wanderings, for many are the signs of Thy mercy. Of a truth, I have fastened Thy feet with rough nails, that they should not turn away from me, but wait with long-suffering, until I do penance. Thy arms are stretched out to embrace me; Thy head is bowed down to kiss me, and to hear my suppliant prayers. Thy Heart is opened, and Thou invitest me to enter into it, promising me a draught of new wine, that my heart may be made glad, for Thou sayest: "Come to Me, all ye who labour in the tillage of My vineyard; and prepare a pleasant bed for Me. Come to Me, all ye who have begun to fight manfully against your sins, and who are striving to avoid this world, given up, as it were, to vice. Come to Me, all ye who labour, and are burdened with the load of sin, with the weight of penance, and the cross of affliction, and I will refresh you, and feed you; and I will give you to drink out of My glorious soul, that red wine, which I have mingled for you, for were it not diluted, it would be stronger than you could bear."

Wherefore, O good Jesus, I wait, not only for that love which Thou showest to Thy friends, but for that, too, which Thou showest to Thine enemies, and I contemplate that loving-kindness of Thine, with which Thou prayest so lovingly for those who crucified and blasphemed Thee. I beseech Thee, most tender Lord, let this Thy prayer be of profit to my wretched soul. For although I have crucified Thee, yet was not this done by me with the same malice as by the wicked Jews; but overcome by human frailty, I have done it. Nor have I sinned that I might treat Thee with contempt, but that I might gratify my senses. Whatever sin, then, I may have committed by the consent of delight, I will correct with the bitterness of penance, and I will wash away with hot streams of tears. I cry out to Thee, indeed, but not as the Jews: "If Thou art the Son of God, save Thyself;" but, "because Thou art the Eternal Son of God, save me Thy servant." I pierce Thee not with nails, I transfix not Thy side with a spear; but I wound Thy Heart by my prayers, and the fiery darts of my desires, and tender love. Oil! for even one little drop, I pray Thee, from Thy open side, to fall down into my sick and wounded soul, and then I shall be saved. O glorious King of heaven and earth, remember me, for now Thou hast come into Thy kingdom. O true Son of God, Who sittest now at the Right Hand of Thy Father, remember my poor soul, which is held captive in the prison of this world. Cause me to hear a word of mercy, even that word of comfort which Thou spakest to the thief, when Thou saidst: "This day thou shalt be with Me in paradise." And this will be soon done, if Thou drawest me away from out of the midst of sin. For then straightway will my soul be joined to Thee; that it may rest in Thee, Who art the paradise of spiritual delights, the rest and full content of the blessed. For in Thee, the paradise of pleasure, have we everlasting rest, and being, and nothing can cast us out therefrom, save sin alone. Take, then, sin away, O Thou Who art the Lamb without spot, that takest away the sins of the world, and then I shall be made one with Thee, and shall most truly be in paradise.

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