80. Second Wednesday of Lent

Meditations no. 126 (unofficial computer-aided translation)

To reign with Christ, we must accompany him in his suffering.

Jesus Christ was heading for Jerusalem. He was on his way to the Passion, and the disciples and the holy women were going with him. Near Jericho, during a pause in the journey, the mother of John and James came up to him with her sons and, kneeling before him, she asked him for something. And he said to her, “What do you want?” She said to him, “Command that these two sons of mine may sit, one at your right hand and one at your left, in your kingdom.” Christ’s reply was immediate. You do not know what you are asking. Are you able to drink the cup that I am to drink?

It is the bitter but fruitful chalice of self-denial. Jesus is the only road linking heaven and earth, our Father writes. He is speaking to all men, but in a very special way he is thinking of people who, like you and me, are determined to take our Christian vocation seriously, so that God may always be present in our thoughts, on our lips and in everything that we do, including our most ordinary and routine actions.

Jesus is the way. Behind him on this earth of ours he has left the clear outlines of his footprints. They are indelible signs which neither the erosion of time nor the treachery of the evil one have been able to erase. Nevertheless, what happened to the disciples may very well happen to us. When Jesus announced to them the need to undergo the pain of the crucifixion, St Luke remarks: they understood none of these things; this saying was hidden from them, and they did not grasp what was said.

We must ask the Holy Spirit to give us light and grace to be clearly convinced, in a very practical way, that the kingdom of God is not an earthly kingdom, and as such, it does not consist of honours or of personal exaltation. Christ wants to rule over our heart, and this demands that our soul should be emptied of itself and united through mortification to the Cross of Christ. We have to learn from him, from Jesus who is our only model. If you want to go forward without stumbling or wandering off the path, then all you have to do is to walk the road he walked, placing your feet in his footprints and entering into his humble and patient Heart, there to drink from the well-springs of his commandments and of his love. In a word, you must identify yourself with Jesus Christ and try to become really and truly another Christ among your fellow men.

When he asked the disciples if they were able to drink of his cup, our Lord knew that they could imitate his Passion. Nevertheless, as St John Chrysostom tells us, he asked them so that we might all hear him say that nobody can reign with Christ without having imitated his Passion. For things of great value can only be acquired at a great price.

Death brings with it our gain. It is the price we must pay in order to obtain the kingdom of Christ. Our mortification must be continuous, and as generous as our Lord’s Passion and Death.

Constantly overcoming selfishness.

Christ embraced the Cross in order to redeem us and show us the way to heaven. This was why, when the mother of the two Apostles asked for a share in the kingdom for her sons, the Lord stipulated one condition: Are you able to drink of the cup that I am to drink? It is not just any cup, but the very one from which Christ drank - a cup containing both the things that he expressly indicates through his commands, wishes and inspirations in the soul, and also the things that he allows to happen, such as misunderstandings and difficulties. It contains everything that requires a struggle against selfishness.

Our Father commented: Christ has called us too, and asks us, as he asked James and John: Potestis bibere calicem quem ego bibiturus sum? - are you ready to drink the cup - the cup which means giving yourself fully to the will of the Father - which I am going to drink? Possumus! Yes! We are ready! was the reply of John and James. Are you and I really ready to carry out, in everything, the will of our Father God? Have we given our Lord our whole heart, or are we attached to ourselves and our interests and comfort and self-love? Is there anything in our lives out of keeping with our Christianity, something which makes us unwilling to mend our ways? Today we are given a chance to set things straight.

Mortification of the senses, corporal mortifications, are very good and even indispensable. But they are not enough. Do you think you have reached the pinnacle of virtue because you have given a part of the whole? St Jerome asks. The Lord wants the whole of yourself as a living and acceptable offering to God. He desires nothing of self to remain: he wants us to learn to deny ourselves, and he wants our dedication to be total and unconditional. For in the final analysis, anything that conditioned our dedication would simply mean selfishness, a misplaced desire for our own good.

But first of all, we must be convinced that Jesus is putting these questions to us personally. He is the one who asks them, not I. I wouldn’t dare even put them to myself. I am praying aloud, and each of you, silently, is admitting to our Lord: “Lord, how useless I am, what a coward I have been! How many mistakes I’ve made, over and over again.” And we can go further and say: “It’s good, Lord, you have kept me up with your hand; for, left to myself, I am capable of the most disgraceful things. Don’t let me go; keep on treating me as a little child. I want to be strong and brave and manly. But you must help me. I am a clumsy creature. Take me by the hand, Lord, and make sure that your Mother is also by my side to guard me. And so, possumus! We can; we will be able to have you as our model.”

Generosity in mortifications which make the others’ self-giving pleasanter.

As they were on their way and the other ten disciples got to know what James and John had asked, they were indignant at the two brothers. But Jesus called them to him and said, “You know that the rulers of the Gentiles lord it over them, and their great men exercise authority over them. It shall not be so among you; but whoever would be great among you must be your servant, and whoever would be first among you must be your slave; even as the Son of Man came not to be served but to serve and to give his life as a ransom for many.”

Jesus knows our deep-rooted inclination towards independence and dominion over others. So he points out plainly the degree of self-denial that he requires of his disciples. Our Father urges us to practise this self-sacrifice unceasingly in ordinary details. Try at once to make some practical resolutions: put a stop once and for all, even though it hurts, to that little defect that holds you back, as God and you yourself know so well. Pride, sensuality, and a lack of supernatural spirit will combine forces to suggest to you: “That? But what a small and insignificant little thing it is!” Don’t play with the temptation. Instead, answer: “Yes, in this too I will surrender myself to the divine call.” And you will be right, for love is shown especially in little things. Normally, the sacrifices that our Lord asks of us, even the most difficult ones, refer to tiny details, but they are as continuous and invaluable as the beating of our heart. How many mothers have you known who have been the heroines of some epic or extraordinary event? Few, very few. Yet you and I know many mothers who are indeed heroic, truly heroic, who have never figured in anything spectacular, who will never hit the headlines, as they say. They lead lives of constant self-denial, happy to curtail their own likes and preferences, their time, their opportunities for self-expression or success, so that they can carpet their children’s lives with happiness.

Our Lord teaches us that serving other people and helping them become saints is the best way to give up our life and to fight against selfishness. He gives himself as an example because he has not come to be served but to serve. What, then, is the best kind of mortification? It is mortification which does not mortify others, mortification which makes their life of self-giving easier and pleasanter; mortification that lightens someone else’s workload; mortification that consists of a habitual smile which encourages and inspires confidence in other people. In a word, mortification which is at the same time service. When I tell you that you have to be like a soft carpet for others to walk on, our Father says, it’s not just a nice turn of phrase. It must be a fact. It’s difficult, just as holiness is difficult; but at the same time it’s easy, because holiness is within everyone’s reach.

We need an abundant, unlimited spirit of mortification. No matter how much you humble yourself, says St John Chrysostom, you will never lower yourself as much as our Lord did. That is why, when the flesh resists and false prudence tells the soul that enough is enough, and that there is no reason for such mortification, let us remember the lesson that Jesus has taught us. Let us also appeal to Holy Mary, Ancilla Domini, handmaid of the Lord, to help us practise self-denial and serve other people with personal sacrifice.