Adoration of the Shepherds - Lorenzo Lotto
Novena in preparation for Our Lord’s
Nativity
SEVENTH DAY
“He came unto His own, and His own received Him not.”– St. John 1:11
In these days of the holy Nativity St. Francis of Assisi went about the
highways and woods with sighs and tears and inconsolable lamentations. When
asked the reason, he answered: How should I not weep when I see that love is
not loved? I see a God become as it were foolish for the love of man, and man
so ungrateful to this God! Now, if this ingratitude of man caused such great
sorrow to the heart of St. Francis, let us consider how much more it must have
afflicted the Heart of Jesus Christ. He was hardly conceived in the womb of
Mary when He saw the cruel return He was to receive from man. He had descended
from heaven to enkindle the fire of Divine love, and this desire alone had
brought Him down to this earth, to suffer there an abyss of sorrows and
ignominies: “I am come to cast fire on the earth; and what will I but that it
be kindled?” (St. Luke xii. 49.) And then He beheld an abyss of sins
which men would commit after having seen so many proofs of His love. It was
this, says St. Bernardine of Sienna, which made Him feel an infinite sorrow:
“And therefore He sorrowed infinitely. Even among us it is an insufferable
sorrow for one man to see himself treated with ingratitude by another; for the
blessed Simon of Cassia observes, that ingratitude often afflicts the soul more
than any pain afflicts the body: “Ingratitude often causes more bitter sorrow
in the soul than pain causes in the body.” What sorrow, then, must our
ingratitude have caused to Jesus, who was our God, when He saw that His
benefits and His love would be repaid Him by offences and injuries: “And they
repaid Me evil for good, and hatred for My love” (Ps. cviii. 5). But even at the
present day it seems as if Jesus Christ was going about complaining: “I am
become a stranger to My brethren” (Ps. lxviii. 9); For He sees that many
neither love nor know Him, as if He had not done them any good, neither had
suffered any thing for love of them. O God, what value do the majority of
Christians even now set upon the love of Jesus Christ? Our Blessed Redeemer
once appeared to the blessed Henry Suso in the form of a pilgrim who went
begging from door to door for a lodging, but every one drove Him away with
insults and injuries. How many, alas! are like those of whom Job speaks: “Who
said to God, Depart from us. Whereas He had filled their houses with good
things” (Job xxii. 17). We have hitherto united ourselves to
these ungrateful wretches; but shall we always be like them? No; for that
loving Infant does not deserve it, who came from Heaven to suffer and die for
us, in order that we might love Him.
AFFECTIONS AND PRAYERS
Is it, then, true, O my Jesus, that Thou didst descend from heaven to make
me love Thee; didst come down to embrace a life of suffering and the death of
the cross for my sake, in order that I might welcome Thee into my heart, and
yet I have so often driven Thee from me, and said, ‘Depart from me, Lord; go
away from me, Lord; for I do not want Thee? O God, if Thou wert not infinite
goodness, and hadst not given Thy life to obtain my pardon, I should not have
courage to ask it of Thee; but I feel that Thou Thyself dost offer me peace:
“Turn ye to me, saith the Lord, and I will turn to you” (Zach. i. 3). Thou Thyself, whom I
have offended, O my Jesus, hast made Thyself my intercessor: “He is the
propitiation for our sins” (1 St. John ii. 2). I will therefore not do Thee this
fresh injury of distrusting Thy mercy. I repent with all my soul of having
despised Thee, O sovereign Good; receive me into Thy favour for the sake of the
blood which Thou hast shed for me: “Father, I am not worthy to be called Thy
son.” No, my Redeemer and my Father, I am no longer worthy to be Thy son,
having so often renounced Thy love; but Thou dost make me worthy of Thy merits.
I thank Thee, oh, my Father; I thank Thee, and I love Thee. Ah, the thought
alone of the patience with which Thou hast borne with me for so many years, and
of the favors Thou hast conferred upon me after so many injuries that I have
done Thee, ought to make me live constantly on fire with Thy love. Come, then,
my Jesus, for I will not drive Thee away any more, come and dwell in my poor
heart. I love Thee, and will always love Thee; but do Thou inflame my heart
every day more and more by the remembrance of the love Thou hast borne me. O
Mary, my Queen and Mother, help me, pray to Jesus for me; make me during the
days that are left me in this world live grateful to that God who has loved me
so much, even after I have so greatly offended Him.
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