July 28, 2017

esterday's Gospel spoke to us:

This is why I speak to them in parables, because
they look but do not see and hear but do not listen or understand.
Isaiah's prophecy is fulfilled in them, which says:

You shall indeed hear but not understand,
you shall indeed look but never see.
Gross is the heart of this people,
they will hardly hear with their ears,
they have closed their eyes,
lest they see with their eyes
and hear with their ears
and understand with their hearts and be converted
and I heal them.

"But blessed are your eyes, because they see,
and your ears, because they hear.
Amen, I say to you, many prophets and righteous people
longed to see what you see but did not see it,
and to hear what you hear but did not hear it."

(Matt. 13:13-17)


wonder i you remember--oh, how I hope that you remember!--from your childhood the profundity of an encounter between a child and his mother or father: having made a mistake, and needing to, in shame, come and confess it? Mom, dad, I just did this. I'm sorry. Do you remember the creativity of the moment in which your parents received you, in firm love, and deep mercy--and your heart was soothed? And it was their love that prompted you to try to never repeat the mistake?


And if you didn't--isn't there a part, deep down, perhaps hidden, that cries out to know this kind of love which we find Jesus?


This is how we are with Jesus. The proportion between us, as little children of His, and Him, who is God, I Am Who Am; Creator; Life-Giver--well, there is no proportion between us, because He Is, and We Are Not, and you cannot compare. Perhaps this is why, through the density of original sin's effect on the depths of our soul, we sometimes might feel as if God cannot love, God cannot forgive, God cannot passionately reach out: because we do not such ferocious unconditionality of love.

The difference between a saint and a sinner, you could say, is not sin, but the disposition once the sin is done and over: to trust that our hearts are hearts healable, our eyes are eyes healable, hearts and eyes that can be opened, that can be recreated, that can be sanctified. We just need to choose to run with that truth: that our hearts belong to Jesus because He gave them to us. Really. They belong to Him, and He--as you can see above--came to make them new.


With this Gospel, I am reminded again of how intimately intricate our destines are--giving over the littlest piece, the deepest piece, the most difficult piece, the piece that needs to be wrestled from us by providence. The most perfect humility, which we find in the most perfect uniformity with the divine will, is the only solution.


A prayer: Jesus! Nothing whatsoever in this world comes to us except by your hand, you who create rain and snow, and who put the sun and the moon into motion. No detail escapes you, and by every detail of my life, you shape me for you--so let my entire being settle into your hands, lean against your shoulder, so that you and I may walk the path that is yours before it is ours.


May the Most Precious Blood of Jesus protect you!

Frassati NY