- Feb 5, 2002
- 180,592
- 65,101
- Country
- United States
- Gender
- Female
- Faith
- Catholic
- Marital Status
- Married
- Politics
- US-Others
Our world needs to hear the message of mercy, perhaps as no other age before. A culture of violence, death, destruction and despair can be healed only by mercy.
Devotion to the Sacred Heart of Jesus is so central to a healthy biblical spirituality that we don’t acknowledge this divine love only once a year; thanks to the apparitions of Our Lord to St. Margaret Mary Alacoque in the seventeenth century, we commemorate and celebrate the love of Christ for us unto death on the First Friday of every month.
Indeed, one of my fondest memories of grammar school is that of Masses on the First Friday of the month for the entire student body. Since an important part of preparation for receiving Holy Communion in those days called for a three-hour fast from solid foods, that meant that most of us came to school actually fasting from the night before. Right after Mass, we proceeded to the school cafeteria, where our pastor treated us to crumb buns and hot chocolate. Thus, our celebration spilled over into a common meal.
Years later, I would relish the lyrics of the lovely hymn, “Draw Us in the Spirit’s Teather,” with the verse that prays, “May all our meals be sacraments of Thee!”
I share that recollection because of another experience I had many years later. I was seated on a plane, hoping that the seat next to me would go unoccupied. Just minutes before the plane door was shut, a man rushed in and, yes, took the empty seat next to me. While we were still taxiing on the runway, he turned toward me and asked, “Are you a Catholic priest?” “Yes, I am.” “I used to be Catholic.” “What are you now?” “I’m saved, I’m a Christian.” “You weren’t saved as a Catholic?” “No, it was just a lot of rituals. I never heard about the love and mercy of God.” “Did you go to Catholic school?” “Yeah, for a few years.”
“Were you,” I asked, “brought to Mass on the First Fridays?” “Yeah, I think so.” “Well, what were you told about that devotion?” “Oh, something about going nine times and going to Heaven.” “You mean you weren’t told about the love and mercy of Christ, so great that He died for you and that love is experienced every time we make a good confession and receive Holy Communion worthily?” “I guess I wasn’t listening too well.” I hope everyone here this evening has listened better than that poor fellow.
The heart is a symbol with a rich biblical lineage. In Hebrew, both the heart and the bowels represent the very depths of a person—where the cognitive and the affective meet in unity and harmony. Hence, we find passages in the Bible that speak thus: “My heart is overwhelmed, my pity is stirred” (Hos 11:8). Far more than an organ of the body, then, the heart suggests the source of compassion, tenderness, kindness—in short, what we call “mercy.”
An interesting piece of biblical trivia: A quick survey of a biblical concordance reveals that the word “mercy” is used more than 200 times in the Sacred Scriptures, while the word “heart” appears over 600 times! No surprise, then, that St. Augustine, playing with the origins of the Latin word for mercy (misericordia), tells us that God’s grace moves us “a miseria ad misericordiam” (from misery to mercy). “Misericordia,” you see, comes from two words which combine to mean “having a heart for the miserable.”
Continued below.
Devotion to the Sacred Heart of Jesus is so central to a healthy biblical spirituality that we don’t acknowledge this divine love only once a year; thanks to the apparitions of Our Lord to St. Margaret Mary Alacoque in the seventeenth century, we commemorate and celebrate the love of Christ for us unto death on the First Friday of every month.
Indeed, one of my fondest memories of grammar school is that of Masses on the First Friday of the month for the entire student body. Since an important part of preparation for receiving Holy Communion in those days called for a three-hour fast from solid foods, that meant that most of us came to school actually fasting from the night before. Right after Mass, we proceeded to the school cafeteria, where our pastor treated us to crumb buns and hot chocolate. Thus, our celebration spilled over into a common meal.
Years later, I would relish the lyrics of the lovely hymn, “Draw Us in the Spirit’s Teather,” with the verse that prays, “May all our meals be sacraments of Thee!”
I share that recollection because of another experience I had many years later. I was seated on a plane, hoping that the seat next to me would go unoccupied. Just minutes before the plane door was shut, a man rushed in and, yes, took the empty seat next to me. While we were still taxiing on the runway, he turned toward me and asked, “Are you a Catholic priest?” “Yes, I am.” “I used to be Catholic.” “What are you now?” “I’m saved, I’m a Christian.” “You weren’t saved as a Catholic?” “No, it was just a lot of rituals. I never heard about the love and mercy of God.” “Did you go to Catholic school?” “Yeah, for a few years.”
“Were you,” I asked, “brought to Mass on the First Fridays?” “Yeah, I think so.” “Well, what were you told about that devotion?” “Oh, something about going nine times and going to Heaven.” “You mean you weren’t told about the love and mercy of Christ, so great that He died for you and that love is experienced every time we make a good confession and receive Holy Communion worthily?” “I guess I wasn’t listening too well.” I hope everyone here this evening has listened better than that poor fellow.
The heart is a symbol with a rich biblical lineage. In Hebrew, both the heart and the bowels represent the very depths of a person—where the cognitive and the affective meet in unity and harmony. Hence, we find passages in the Bible that speak thus: “My heart is overwhelmed, my pity is stirred” (Hos 11:8). Far more than an organ of the body, then, the heart suggests the source of compassion, tenderness, kindness—in short, what we call “mercy.”
An interesting piece of biblical trivia: A quick survey of a biblical concordance reveals that the word “mercy” is used more than 200 times in the Sacred Scriptures, while the word “heart” appears over 600 times! No surprise, then, that St. Augustine, playing with the origins of the Latin word for mercy (misericordia), tells us that God’s grace moves us “a miseria ad misericordiam” (from misery to mercy). “Misericordia,” you see, comes from two words which combine to mean “having a heart for the miserable.”
Continued below.