Preparatory Prayer:
"0 Lord, the God of my salvation . . . let my prayer come in before Thee; incline Thine ear to my petition." Psalm 87.
Setting:
Jesus Christ walking up the sloping streets of His native Nazareth. He is now a young man of thirty, and He has been some months absent from home - forty days in the desert, and after that making a beginning of His preachinglife. The fame of Him has gone abroad far and wide. It will have preceded Him to His own home town, so it is to be presumed that the neighbors have heard of His return. They stand at their doors staring idly as He passes; some probably come out into the street to comment on Him; others follow to see where He is going. With these last I associate myself in prayer today. Jesus pauses outside the synagogue, goes in "according to His custom." When all are assembled He takes the Scriptures and reads a passage and then, closing the book, begins His explanations. "And the eyes of all in the synagogue were fixed on Him." Let me also secure some position of vantage and look upon Him.
Fruit:
To live in habitual consciousness of the fact that God sees me.
The Psalmist invites us to "look upon the face of Christ." Sooner or later men must wake up to the fact that only in Christ can be found the solution to the innumerable problems that vex and agitate us. If we study the face of Christ and observe its various expressions - love, sorrow, disappointment, anger, reproach, joy - we shall be able to argue to the reasons which cause these different sentiments. These, in turn, provide the key to many of our difficulties, for, if we know why He is angry or glad or sorrowful, we should easily enough be able to determine what steps are needed in our case to dispel or develop any given emotion.
In my prayer this morning there is opportunity to study only one or two or three of the expressions in His divine countenance; others, as recorded by the Evangelists, will repay me to examine in the same spirit.
Mary was the very first to "look upon the face of her Christ" I can see her gazing into that face as He lay asleep in her arms; on that face shines the light of heaven, and its rays are reflected in the Mother's eyes. But today I would reflect especially on one particular occasion when Mary looked on Him thus. They have just come back from the temple, and in Mary's ears is still ringing the ominous prophecy of Simeon that the little Child is marked out for suffering and contradiction and that into Mary's own soul a sword of sorrow will be plunged.
Mary must often, in the subsequent years, have looked on that face and something like terror must have clutched at her heart as she remembered that the day was fast approaching when He and she must together fulfill that fearful word. What mother, forewarned thus, but would be crushed by the prospect? In that face of her Christ Mary read innocence and beauty, just as her Son, when He turned His eyes towards Mary, saw the sinlessness of her immaculate soul in the face of His Mother.
And yet they are both doomed to suffer - He to be crucified, and she to stand by His Cross with the sword plunged into her very soul. Why should this be so? Why should her Son suffer in His innocence? Why should Mary live all her life under the shadow, ever lengthening, of the Cross? We know the answer. In place of those who would sin and make light of sin, who would even boast of their sins, in their stead Jesus, sinless, and Mary, untouched by the smallest breath of sin, must suffer in expiation.
Physical pain, mental worry, separation from those we love, betrayal, ingratitude, financial anxiety, deaththe catalogue is endless of the trials and their variety, to which we, poor humans, are subjected as we trudge across the valley of tears. It is true that Jesus and Mary were innocent. Which of us can claim to be innocent? Even if we could, it would still be unchristian to claim exemption from suffering and the Cross. To fathom this, is not, indeed, to solve the mystery of pain, but it is at least to understand that there must be in it, if accepted sweetly, a treasure of inestimable value.
Mary permit me to kneel by your side and look upon the face of your Christ. Let me lift my eyes to you. Let me realize that suffering is not merely a penalty but a glorious
opportunity of uniting myself with you both in a most fruitful apostolate. As I rise from my knees, I go out to is the world with new courage to accept, in love and reparation, what is hard.