I Care

 

It’s 3AM, Holy Thursday night, Good Friday morning.  I am staying up, keeping Jesus company on the night when He was alone, mocked and tortured before the final agony of the cross.  I used to spend this night in the chapel, His house, but tonight I’m at my home, but I know He is with me here.  My meditations tonight are on His Passion, as written in the books My Other Self by Clarence Enzler (Chapter 8), and The Better Part by John Bartunek (Meditations 393-398 --- the Good Friday Gospel).  And in between reading those books, I’m praying the rosary, reading again the meditations I long ago wrote on each mystery.  So much to discover anew, how much He loved us then – or no, how much he loves us now, for as God He is not limited by time as we know it.  For Him, it’s all happening right now.

In The Better Part, reflecting on John 18:1-11, I had underlined where it speaks of Judas’ betrayal these words: “He became a traitor.  He is now the kind of person who is willing to climb the ladder of success by stepping on his friends.”  How often I have seen that in others and sadly, in my own life.  And yet as when Judas gave Jesus that final kiss, Jesus still called him “friend.”  Later the author reflects (and I underlined again) what Jesus might be saying to us: “I offered the sacrifice of the cross for you, before you even knew me, let alone loved me, and I did it with total freedom.  I didn’t have to, I chose to, just because I can’t bear the thought of spending eternity without you.’

And in the book margin next to those underlined words I had written: “The artist who doesn’t want to part with his work.”  What a great insight the Lord had given me when I wrote those words!  Artwork is the unique expression of what the artist is feeling.  People may look at a painting and ponder long to try to understand why the artist created the unique brushstrokes, what was he thinking here, and what feeling is he expressing there?  Everyone may look at the artwork and perceive some aspect of how and why the artist did everything uniquely this way, and they may correctly interpret some of the thoughts he expressed, the very part of his being he expressed in his artwork. But no one can totally understand, however, the love he put into his work, and that’s why the serious artist finds it so very hard to part with his work.  Jesus feels that way about each one of us.  How much of eternity did He ponder before making me exactly as I am; how could He ever accept being without His creation?  How could I ever think He doesn’t love me?  How could anyone not want to return a love like that?

And then I read on and prayed on this night.  And praying the Sorrowful Mysteries of the rosary, I reached the third mystery, the crowing with thorns.  And I read this reflection I had written about what I perceived Jesus felt then, when He was crowned, mocked, and spit upon.  “In my deepest pain:  quiet.  Alone; no one cares.”  That thought, which Jesus may have felt, is why I stay up these Holy Thursday nights, reflecting on all He did at this time, and why.  I want Him to know:  I care.

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And as I was typing these words, I received call that my good friend, Marie, is being admitted to the hospital for tests on acute pains she is feeling.  I care for her also, and all my friends.  Please pray for her.