I’ve been writing a lot the past few days about the end times. The readings point directly there. That’s the message. Life will come to an end, and Jesus will be our judge. While praying last night over the readings, this line from the Gospel hit me hard:
“If this day you only knew what makes for peace.”
Jesus wept for the city of Jerusalem. Even though He would still go down to die for them, they would not change the path they were on. In 70 A.D., the Romans would destroy the entire city. Jesus still set His face for Jerusalem.
That image of Jerusalem is also an image of us. Sometimes we get casual about sin. We think venial sin is not that big of a deal and only get uptight about mortal sin. Every sin is an injury to Christ. Every sin is another bruise, another thorn, another splinter. The difference is that we understand what the price of peace is. When we look up at the crucifix, we know that He took our place.
I want to share a small part of a vision that Sister Nicolina Kohler had about her sins.
“My conscience seized my heart with inexpressible torment, and only by crying uncontrollably could I release it. My tears flowed not from embarrassment but from seeing the signs of suffering on the Lord’s body and His face due to my sins. “This is all for you,” His eyes said to me. “I did this all for you.” That message thrust a fiery sword through my heart, causing searing, stabbing pain. I wanted to die, and yet didn’t, because I longed to be worthy of the love of His eyes.
Never before had I experienced the agony of my sins because I had always explained them away. Jesus had loved me to the point of death, and I hadn’t tried hard at all to love Him in return. Instead, I snuck around in side-stepping, slippery ways, which meant that the way I said and believed I lived my life, I didn’t. Looking like a saint and not being one hurt the most.”
(From the book “The Warning” by Christine Watkins)
That last part is something I think we should reflect on today. Do I love Jesus enough that the most painful thing I could ever experience is “looking like a Saint” and not being one? Because the price of love is right here in front of us.
A homily for Thursday of the Thirty-Third Week in Ordinary Time: November 19th, 2020