Lenten
Meditations
By a member of the Society
of Jesus
ON THE BLOODY
SWEAT
1st Point
Consider, my soul, how rude was this first shock of his sacred passion
to our divine Saviour! Behold him kneeling, bathed in his own blood, which
oozes from every pore. It is the fear of his approaching torments; it is the
horror inspired by your crimes, and the desire for your salvation, which
excites this intolerable combat in his sacred heart. He has concentrated in
himself all the iniquities of the human race, and conceived for them so great a
sorrow, that he must have expired had not his life been preserved by a miracle.
He wrought miracles that he might suffer, but none to exempt himself from
suffering. And I am impatient, because God does not constantly interpose
miracles to exempt me from suffering and dying.
2nd Point
Oh, Saviour of my soul! this first combat of thine has been a bloody and
fearful one! What pains it cost thee to dissipate, by the violence of thy
sorrow, the multitude of our crimes, which thou hadst before thine eyes! I was
with Judas in the Garden of Gethsemani to seize thee! I was in thy sacred heart
to afflict thee! My sins were in the world before my birth; they strengthened
the arms of the Jews to strike and buffet thee; and delivered thee to thy
enemies, who tormented thee with malicious ingenuity, and afterwards crucified
thee!
3rd Point
Oh, divine Master! thou hast given to the world most noble and beautiful
examples, but no one desires to imitate them; thou hast taught us the most
perfect lessons, but no one desires to learn them; thou goest first to the
conflict, but none follow thee. Thy disciples have basely abandoned thee; they
sleep while thou dost watch; they enjoy repose while thou art engaged in a
bitter warfare; they afflict instead of consoling thee; they be tray instead of
delivering thee!
Oh, what confusion overwhelms me! Jesus overcomes all the alarms and
infirmities of nature, clothed as he was with the weakness of man, and I yield
to them, although I am sustained by the strength of God; he goes generously to
the conflict with my timidity, and I, who am endowed with his courage, fly!
Oh, precious blood, which watered and bathed this ungrateful earth, warm
my cold heart, water my arid soul, strengthen my spirit, and raise up my fallen
courage! I wish to enter the combat with a firm resolution to overcome and
resist the rebellious movements of nature, even unto the shedding of blood. I
will, by the grace and in the strength of God, triumph over my flesh, and
subject my spirit to divine charity. I will maintain the warfare, until, like
thee, I sweat blood and water. Like thee will I suffer, and drink the chalice
of thy bitterness unto death.
WORDS OF SCRIPTURE
"The
chalice which my Father hath given me, shall I not drink it? — St. John,
xviii.
"He began
to grow sorrowful and to be sad. Then he saith to them: My soul is sorrowful
even unto death: stay you here, and watch with me." — St. Matt.
xxvi.
"And his
sweat became as drops of blood, trickling down upon the ground." — St. Luke,
xxii.
"Surely he
hath borne our infirmities, and carried our sorrows." — Isaias,
liii.
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