(Originally posted January
2, 2017)
God calls all of us to walk the Via Dolorosa with
Him, to spend time at the foot of His cross, to be there as He is nailed to it,
to be there throughout the entire three hours of His agonizing death, to be
there as He is taken down from the cross, to be there as He is placed in His
mother’s arms and to be there at the tomb.
I have tried from time to time to obey Him. But I have
found it hard to do. Painful would be more accurate. I don’t want to be
reminded of the price He paid for my sins. I don’t want to acknowledge how
ungrateful I have been for such an undeserved sacrificial gift. I am afraid of
what other things He might ask of this obstinate sinner and of the additional
disappointment, pain and anguish my refusing to change may cause such a loving
and merciful Lord.
Yet, if I am ever to succeed in abandoning my will for His,
of allowing Him to make of me the new creation He intended, and of spending eternity
in His glorious and magnificent Presence, I must obey. I must daily walk
that road and spend time at the foot of His cross.
I am hopeful that as a
result of my visit to St.
Joseph's Oratory in Montreal – the work of Saint Andre Bessett, more
commonly known as Brother Andre – I will be successful in this most difficult
but necessary exercise. Let me tell you why.
Shortly after arriving at the Oratory and during a casual
conversation at lunch with other pilgrims, I heard for the first time of a
Crucifix in the Grotto Church at the Oratory to which a great devotion had
developed. Over the years, many answered prayers and miracles have been
reported by those who spent time at the foot of that Cross and who left their
written prayers and petitions there.
I wanted
to find that special place.
I had
never been to the Oratory but went to look for that Crucifix. I had not walked
very far at all when I saw the Grotto’s entrance just feet from where I
stood.
I entered with joyful expectation. Mass was about to begin
but there was still a line down the side aisle in front of a Crucifix that was
in the sanctuary next to the altar rail.
My wife
and I got on the line. At first I was unsure whether I was disrespecting our
Lord and the priest who had just begun Mass but felt compelled to remain in the
line, joining in the hymns and Mass responses. I was moved by the depth of
emotion others displayed as they approached the Crucifix and held on to our
Lord’s nailed feet while praying silently.
When it was my turn, I snapped a quick picture of the
crucifix and then reached up and put my two hands on Jesus’ crucified feet. I
rested my head there as well, pleading for the salvation of my soul and the
souls of my loved ones. I shed a few tears. I did not want to leave or remove
my hands but knew I had to do so. Others were waiting.
I kissed those nailed and blood-stained feet. Suddenly I
was filled with a brief tingling sensation – a powerful awareness of God’s
Presence and of His undying love for me.
And then
it struck me.
I had finally come to the foot of the cross. Now I
understood why Jesus so persistently invites us there and why I owe Him and
myself total obedience to His invitation in the future.
May I
not disappoint Him.