364. Twenty-second Thursday of Ordinary Time

Meditations no. 330 (unofficial computer-aided translation)

Christ has entered our boat, as he entered Peter’s, to make us fishers of men.

When you do your prayer, my daughter, my son -and I am not referring now to that constant prayer that spans the whole day, but rather to those two periods when we withdraw from external affairs and concentrate exclusively on talking to God - when you begin your meditation, frequently, depending on the circumstances, you call to mind the scene or the mystery you want to contemplate. Then you apply your understanding and you immediately begin to talk to our Lord affectionately, full of love and sorrow, of thanksgiving and of desires to improve. If you follow this path you should come to a prayer of quiet in which it is our Lord who speaks, and you listen to whatever he has to say. How well you notice then those interior motions and reprimands that set the soul on fire!

To facilitate prayer, we should “materialize” even the most spiritual things, as the parables do. This teaching is divine. Doctrine must reach our mind and our heart by way of the senses: now you see why I like so much to talk to you about boats and seas.

St Luke tells us, in today’s Gospel: While the people pressed upon Jesus to hear the word of God, he was standing by the lake of Gennesaret. And he saw two boats by the lake; but the fishermen had gone out of them and were washing their nets. Getting into one of the boats, which was Simon’s, he asked him to put out a little from the land. And he sat down and taught the people from the boat.

Ascendens autem in unam navim, quae erat Simonis… He got into Peter’s boat. Jesus began by asking him for that old boat and ended up asking for all his energies, his whole life! Hasn’t the same happened to you? Our Father would often comment on this Gospel scene. Today, we begin our prayer guided by his words.

How naturally Jesus gets into our own boat!: to “complicate” our lives, some people might say. He got into your soul and mine, to complicate our lives gently and lovingly, wonderfully …

Your boat has no value, unless it’s no longer yours, unless you give it to Christ. With your boat you’re headed for shipwreck. Leave it all, everything: your personal plans, your silly imaginings, your human ambitions that don’t lead you to Christ, your pride, those worldly aspirations… That is your boat which is going to sink unless you give it to Christ. And so, if we give our boat to God, if Jesus feels he’s the boat’s captain…

Sometimes it seems that he’s absent, that he’s not looking after it… But then Jesus comes walking over the waves, through the storm, and he gets into our boat, which is his, and immediately the wind dies down. If we give ourselves, he gives himself to us. But we must give ourselves, and do so entirely … Let us truly give ourselves, let us tell Jesus, with deeds, that our boat belongs to him.

Being in Christ’s boat means full dedication.

We have climbed into Peter’s boat along with Christ, into this boat of the Church, which seems so fragile and rickety but which no storm can ever sink. And while we are here in Peter’s boat, you and I must consider slowly, slowly: Lord, why am I in this boat?

This question has a special meaning for you since the moment you entered the boat, this boat of Opus Dei. You came because you wanted to, and that for me is the most supernatural of reasons. I love you, Lord, because I wish to love you. I could have given this poor heart to some human being… but no! I place it whole, young, vibrant, noble and clean, at your feet, because I want to!

Together with your heart, you also gave Jesus your freedom; your own ambitions have become very secondary. You can move freely within the boat, with the freedom of the children of God, who are in the Truth, fulfilling the divine Will. But never forget that you must remain always within the limits of the boat. And this is because you wanted to. I repeat what I told you yesterday or the day before: if you leave the boat, you will be submerged by the waves, you will die, you will perish, drowned in the ocean, and you will cease to be with Christ, losing that companionship you voluntarily embraced when he offered it to you.

Consider, my son, my daughter, how pleased our Lord is with the incense burnt in his honour. Think how little earthly things are worth: no sooner do they begin but they end. Think how insignificant human beings are: pulvis es, et in pulverem reverteris (you are dust, and to dust you will return); one day we will be like the roadside dust again. But the marvellous thing is that, in spite of it all, we don’t live for this earth nor for our honour, but for the honour and glory of God, and for his service. That’s what motivates us!

Consequently, if your pride whispers to you: here, with your extraordinary talents, you are going unnoticed… , here you are not going to produce all the fruit you could… , you are going to wear yourself out, and exhaust yourself uselessly… You, because you have come into the boat of the Work because you wanted to, because God unmistakably called you - no one can come to me unless the Father who sent me draws him - you have to respond to this grace by giving yourself, by turning our willing sacrifice, our dedication, into an offering which is a holocaust!

Living out the relictis omnibus, every day.

My son, my daughter, you are already convinced by this parable that if you want to have life, and life eternal, and eternal honour, if you want eternal happiness, you cannot leave the boat. And in many cases you will have to set aside your personal goals. I have no other goal than our corporate one: obedience. How beautiful it is to obey!

But let us continue with the parable. We find ourselves in this old boat that has been sailing the seas without sinking for twenty centuries. We are in this boat of self-giving, of dedication to the service of God. And in this poor, humble boat, you recall that you have an aeroplane, and that you know perfectly well how to fly it, and you think: I could go so far! Well, off you go. Go to an aircraft carrier, because we don’t need your plane here! This should be very clear: our perseverance is the fruit of our freedom, of our self-giving, of our love, and it demands complete dedication. On this boat we cannot do just anything we feel like. If all the cargo in the hold were to shift to one side the boat would sink. If all the seamen were to leave their posts, the poor little boat would be lost. Obedience is necessary and people and things have to be where they are supposed to be.

My son, my daughter, you must convince yourself now, once and for all, that to leave the boat is to die; and that in order to stay in the boat you must surrender your judgement. You need to carry out a deep work of humility: to give yourself, be consumed, make a holocaust of yourself.

We know the outcome of today’s Gospel scene: after the miraculous catch of fish, Peter and his companions left everything and followed Jesus, once and for all. Our Father asks us: Have you left everything, my child? Look at Peter and Andrew. They had only their old boat, their broken nets… But they left it all, everything. You, in your heart of hearts, have you left everything? Is your heart clean? Is our heart clean, is it pure? Have you cast off everything: relictis omnibus? Well if not, you’re still in time…

We are always in time to cut the threads that prevent us from readily following Christ. We need to burn everything, everything! And not just once, but many times, in one way or another. Some people seem to get stuck in the “omnibus”, and it has to be burned: everything, everything, all of it! Starting with our hearts. When we’re truly dedicated, when our self-giving is complete, really complete, and we ask our Lord to take possession of our hearts, then the affection that follows as a result is always holy. We love all souls, and in a special way, we love those in our supernatural family, and our affection passes through the burning filter of Christ’s open Heart and the sweet and immaculate Heart of Mary most holy.

As always, we turn to our Blessed Lady as we end our time of prayer. We ask her that our dedication to God, in this boat that is the Work, may always be whole and entire, and unconditional.