Chapter I

How much Jesus Christ deserves to be loved by us for the love he showed us in his Passion.

All the holiness and perfection of a soul consists in loving Jesus Christ, our God, our supreme good, and our Savior. He who loves me, said Jesus himself, will be loved by my eternal Father: ipse enim Pater amat vos, quia vos me amastis (Io. 16, 27). "Some," says St. Francis de Sales, "place perfection in an austere life, others in prayer, others in frequenting the sacraments, others in almsgiving; but they are mistaken: perfection consists in loving God with all one's heart." The Apostle wrote: Super omnia... caritatem habete, quod est vinculum perfectionis (Coloss. III, 14). Charity is that which unites and preserves all the virtues that make a person perfect. Hence St. Augustine said: Ama, et fac quod vis: love God and do what you will; for to a soul that loves God, love itself teaches never to do anything displeasing to him, and to do all that is pleasing to him.

Does not God deserve all our love? He has loved us from eternity: In caritate perpetua dilexi te (Ier. XXXI, 3). O man, says the Lord, see that I was the first to love you. You were not yet in the world, the world itself did not yet exist, and already I loved you. Since I am God, I have loved you: since I have loved myself, I have loved you as well. Well then did that holy virgin St. Agnes have reason, when other earthly suitors were proposed to her who sought her love, to answer them: Ab alio amatore praeventa sum. Go away, she said, lovers of this world, and cease to claim my love; my God was the first to love me, he has loved me from eternity; so it is right that I give him all my affections, and love no other but him.

Seeing that men are drawn by benefits, God willed to win them to his love by means of his gifts. And so he said: In funiculis Adam traham eos, in vinculis caritatis (Os. XI, 4): I will draw men to love me with those cords by which men allow themselves to be drawn, that is, with the bonds of love. Such indeed have been all the gifts God has given to man. After endowing him with a soul made in his image, with the faculties of memory, intellect, and will, and with a body furnished with the senses, he created for him heaven and earth and so many other things, all for love of man: the heavens, the stars, the planets, the seas, the rivers, the springs, the mountains, the plains, the metals, the fruits, and so many kinds of animals — all these creatures to serve man, and that man might love him out of gratitude for so many gifts. Caelum et terra, exclaims St. Augustine, et omnia mihi dicunt ut amem te. My Lord, he said, how many things I see on earth and above the earth, and all of them speak to me and urge me to love you, because they all tell me that you made them for love of me. Abbot de Rancé, founder of La Trappe, when from his hermitage he would pause to gaze at the hills, the springs, the birds, the flowers, the planets, the heavens, felt himself inflamed by each of these creatures to love the God who had created them for love of him.

Likewise, St. Mary Magdalene de' Pazzi, whenever she held some beautiful flower in her hand, felt herself kindled with love for God, and would say: "So my Lord has thought from all eternity to create this flower for love of me!" And that flower became for her like a dart of love that gently wounded her and united her more closely to God. St. Teresa, on the other hand, said that when she looked at trees, springs, streams, the sea, or meadows, all these beautiful creatures reminded her of her ingratitude in loving so little the Creator who had made them so as to be loved by her. It is further related that a devout hermit, walking through the countryside, felt as though the grasses and flowers he met were reproaching him for his ingratitude toward God, so he went about striking them with his little staff, saying to them: "Be quiet, be quiet: you call me ungrateful, you tell me that God created you for love of me and that I do not love him; but I have already heard you, be quiet, be quiet; reproach me no more."

But God was not content with giving us all these beautiful creatures. To win our love entirely, he went so far as to give us his very self. The Eternal Father went so far as to give us his own and only Son: Sic enim Deus dilexit mundum ut Filium suum unigenitum daret (Io. III, 16). Seeing that we were all dead and deprived of his grace on account of sin, what did the Eternal Father do? Out of the immense love — indeed, as the Apostle writes, out of the exceeding love he bore us — he sent his beloved Son to make satisfaction for us, and so restore to us that life which sin had taken from us: Propter nimiam caritatem suam qua dilexit nos, et cum essemus mortui peccatis convivificavit nos in Christo (Eph. II, 4, 5). And in giving us the Son — not sparing the Son in order to spare us — together with the Son he gave us every good: his grace, his love, and paradise, since all these goods are certainly less than the Son: Qui etiam proprio Filio suo non pepercit, sed pro nobis omnibus tradidit illum, quomodo non etiam cum illo omnia nobis donavit? (Rom. VIII, 32).

And so too the Son, for the love he bears us, gave himself entirely to us: Dilexit nos et tradidit semetipsum pro nobis (Gal. II, 20). To redeem us from eternal death and to restore to us divine grace and the paradise we had lost, he became man and clothed himself in flesh like ours: Et Verbum caro factum est (Io. I, 14). And behold a God emptied of himself: Semetipsum exinanivit formam servi accipiens... et habitu inventus ut homo. Behold the Lord of the world who humbles himself to take the form of a servant, and submits himself to all the miseries that other men endure.

But what is most astonishing is that he could well have saved us without dying and without suffering; but no, he chose a life of affliction and contempt, and a bitter and ignominious death, even to dying upon a cross, an infamous scaffold reserved for criminals: Humiliavit semetipsum, factus obediens usque ad mortem, mortem autem crucis (Phil. II, 8). But why, when he could have redeemed us without suffering, did he choose death — and death on a cross? To show us the love he bore us: Dilexit nos et tradidit semetipsum pro nobis (Eph. V, 2). He loved us and, because he loved us, he gave himself over to sorrows, to shame, and to the most painful death that any man has ever endured upon this earth.

Hence the great lover of Jesus Christ, St. Paul, declared: Caritas... Christi urget nos (II Cor. V, 14). The Apostle meant that it is not so much what Jesus Christ suffered, but the love he showed us in suffering for us, that obliges and almost compels us to love him. Let us hear what St. Francis de Sales says on this text: "Knowing that Jesus, true God, loved us even to suffering for us death — and death on a cross — is this not to have our hearts under a press, and to feel them squeezed by force, and love pressed out of them by a violence that is all the more powerful as it is all the more lovable?" And he adds: "Ah, why then do we not cast ourselves upon Jesus crucified, to die on the cross with him who willed to die there for love of us? I will hold him, we should say, and I will never let him go; I will die with him and burn in the flames of his love. One and the same fire will consume this divine Creator and his wretched creature. My Jesus gives himself wholly to me and I give myself wholly to him. I will live and die upon his breast; neither death nor life shall ever separate me from him. O eternal Love, my soul seeks you and chooses you forever. Come, Holy Spirit, and set our hearts on fire with your love. Either to love or to die. To die to every other love, to live for the love of Jesus. O Savior of our souls, grant that we may sing eternally: Long live Jesus whom I love; I love Jesus who lives forever and ever."

So great was the love that Jesus Christ bore for mankind that it made him long for the hour of his death, to show them the love he held for them; and so he went through his life saying: Baptismo... habeo baptizari, et quomodo coarctor usque dum perficiatur? (Luc. XII, 50). I must be baptized with my own blood, and oh, how pressed I feel with longing that the hour of my Passion may soon come, so that through it man may know the love I bear him! And for this reason St. John, speaking of that night in which Jesus began his Passion, writes: Sciens Jesus quia venit hora eius ut transeat ex hoc mundo ad Patrem, cum dilexisset suos... in finem dilexit eos (Io. XIII, 1). The Redeemer called that hour his hour — hora eius — because the time of his death was the time he had longed for: for then he wished to give mankind the final proof of his love, dying for them on a cross, consumed by sufferings.

But who could ever have induced a God to die as a condemned man upon a scaffold, between two criminals, with such ignominy to his divine majesty? Quis fecit hoc? asks St. Bernard; and then he answers: Fecit amor, dignitatis nescius. Ah, love, when it is a matter of making itself known, does not seek what befits the dignity of the lover, but what best serves to reveal itself to the beloved. Well then did St. Francis of Paola have reason, at the sight of the Crucifix, to cry out: O charity, O charity, O charity! And so all of us, gazing upon Jesus on the cross, should cry out, aflame: O love, O love, O love!

Ah, if faith did not assure us of it, who could ever come to believe that an omnipotent God, infinitely happy and Lord of all, would love man so much that he seems to have gone out of himself for love of man? We have seen Wisdom itself, that is, the Eternal Word, made as if mad for the exceeding love he bore for men! So spoke St. Lawrence Justinian: Vidimus Sapientem prae nimietate amoris infatuatum! The same said St. Mary Magdalene de' Pazzi one day when, in ecstasy, she took in her hands a wooden image of the Crucifix and exclaimed: "Yes, my Jesus, you are mad with love. I say it, and I will always say it: Mad with love you are, my Jesus." But no, says St. Dionysius the Areopagite (De Div. Nom., lib. 4), it is not madness, but the usual effect of divine love, to make the lover go out of himself in order to give himself entirely to the beloved: Extasim facit divinus amor.

Oh, if only men would pause to consider, as they gaze upon Jesus crucified, the love he has borne for each one of them! "With what love," said St. Francis de Sales, "would we not be set aflame at the sight of the flames that burn in the bosom of the Redeemer! And oh, what happiness to be burned by that same fire in which our God burns! And what joy to be united to God with the chains of love!" St. Bonaventure called the wounds of Jesus Christ wounds that wound the most hardened hearts and set ablaze the most frozen souls: Vulnera dura corda vulnerantia et mentes congelatas inflammantia. Oh, how many loving arrows fly from those wounds, piercing the hardest hearts! Oh, what flames pour from the burning Heart of Jesus Christ, setting ablaze the coldest hearts! Oh, how many chains come forth from that wounded side, binding the most untamed hearts!

The Venerable John of Avila, who was so in love with Jesus Christ that in all his sermons he never failed to speak of the love Jesus Christ bears us — in a treatise of his on the love this most loving Redeemer has for men, he wrote these ardent sentiments which, being too beautiful to omit, I wished to include here. He says:

"You, O Redeemer, loved man in such a way that whoever considers this love cannot help but love you, because your love does violence to hearts, as the Apostle says: Caritas... Christi urget nos. The source of Jesus Christ's love for men is his charity toward God. For this reason he said on the evening of the Last Supper: Ut cognoscat mundus quia diligo Patrem, surgite, eamus. But where? To die for men on the cross.

"No intellect can grasp how fiercely this fire burns in the Heart of Jesus Christ. Just as he was commanded to suffer one death, had he been commanded to suffer a thousand, he had love enough to endure them all. And if what he was required to suffer for all men had been required for the salvation of one alone, he would have done for each what he did for all. And as he hung three hours upon the cross, had it been necessary to remain there until the day of judgment, he had love enough to do it. So Jesus Christ loved far more than he suffered. O divine love, how much greater you were than you appeared! You appeared great outwardly, for so many wounds and bruises proclaim a great love, but they do not tell its full greatness; inwardly it was far more than it appeared outwardly. What appeared was but a spark that leapt from that vast ocean of immense love.

"This is the greatest sign of love, to lay down one's life for one's friends; but it was a sign that did not suffice for Jesus Christ to express his love.

"This love is what draws good souls out of themselves and leaves them astonished when it makes itself known to them. From this comes the burning of the heart, the desire for martyrdom, the rejoicing in suffering, the delight on red-hot gridirons, the walking on coals as if they were roses, the yearning for torments, the joy in what the world fears and the embrace of what the world abhors. St. Ambrose says that the soul betrothed to Jesus Christ on the cross considers nothing more glorious than to bear upon herself the marks of the Crucified.

"How then shall I repay you, O my Love, for this love of yours? It is worthy that blood be repaid with blood. Let me see myself stained with this blood and nailed to this cross. O holy cross, receive me too upon yourself. Open wider, O crown, that I may place my head in you. O nails, leave those innocent hands of my Lord, and pierce my heart with compassion and love. For this reason, my Jesus, says St. Paul, you died: to make yourself master of the living and the dead, not by punishments, but by love: In hoc... Christus mortuus est et resurrexit, ut et mortuorum et vivorum dominetur (Rom. XIV, 9).

"O thief of hearts, the force of your love has broken even our hearts, hard as they are. You have set the whole world on fire with your love. O most wise Lord, intoxicate our hearts with this wine, set them ablaze with this fire, wound them with this arrow of your love. This cross of yours is already a crossbow that pierces hearts. Let the whole world know that my heart is wounded. O my sweetest Love, what have you done? You came to heal me, and you have wounded me? You came to teach me to live, and you have made me as if mad? O most wise madness, may I never live without you. Lord, all that I see on the cross invites me to love: the wood, the figure, the wounds of your body, and above all your love invites me to love you and never to forget you."

But to attain the perfect love of Jesus Christ, one must take the means to it.

Here are the means that St. Thomas Aquinas teaches us (Opusc. de Dilect. Dei, § 1).

First: To keep a continual remembrance of the divine benefits, both general and particular.

Second: To consider the infinite goodness of God, who is always in the act of doing us good, always loves us, and always seeks our love.

Third: To avoid with diligence every least thing that displeases him.

Fourth: To renounce all the sensible goods of this earth: riches, honors, and pleasures of the senses.

Father Tauler adds that meditating on the holy Passion of Christ is also a great means to obtain the perfect love of Jesus Christ.

Who can deny that devotion to the Passion of Jesus Christ is the devotion of all devotions the most useful, the most tender, the most dear to God, the one that most consoles sinners, the one that most inflames loving souls? And from where do we receive so many blessings, if not from the Passion of Jesus Christ? From where do we draw our hope of pardon, our strength against temptations, our confidence of entering paradise? From where come so many lights of truth, so many loving calls, so many promptings to change our life, so many desires to give ourselves to God, if not from the Passion of Jesus Christ? How right, then, the Apostle was to call accursed anyone who does not love Jesus Christ: Si quis non amat Dominum nostrum Iesum Christum, sit anathema (I Cor. XVI, 22).

St. Bonaventure says there is no devotion better suited to sanctify a soul than meditation on the Passion of Jesus Christ; and so he counsels us to meditate on the Passion every day, if we wish to advance in divine love: Si vis proficere, quotidie mediteris Domini Passionem; nihil enim in anima ita operatur universalem sanctimoniam, sicut meditatio Passionis Christi. And before him St. Augustine said that a single tear shed in memory of the Passion is worth more than fasting on bread every week: Magis meretur vel unam lacrimam emittere ob memoriam Passionis Christi quam si qualibet hebdomada in pane ieiunaret. For this reason the saints were always occupied in considering the sufferings of Jesus Christ. St. Francis of Assisi became a seraph by this means. One day he was found by a gentleman, weeping and crying aloud; asked why, he replied: "I weep for the sufferings and the shame of my Lord; and what makes me weep most is that men, for whom he suffered so much, live forgetful of him." And saying this, he redoubled his tears, so that the man too began to weep. Whenever the saint heard a lamb bleating, or saw anything else that renewed the memory of the suffering Jesus, he would immediately renew his tears. On another occasion, while he lay ill, someone told him he should have some devout book read to him: "My book," he replied, "is Jesus crucified." And therefore he did nothing but exhort his friars to think always on the Passion of Jesus Christ.

Tiepoli writes: "Whoever does not fall in love with God by gazing upon Jesus dead on the cross will never fall in love."

Affections and Prayers

O eternal Word, you spent thirty-three years in toil and hardship, you gave your blood and your life to save mankind, in short you spared nothing to make yourself loved by them; and yet there are men who know this and do not love you? O God, among these ungrateful ones am I. I see the wrong I have done you; my Jesus, have pity on me. I offer you this ungrateful heart of mine: ungrateful, but repentant. Yes, I repent above every evil, my dear Redeemer, for having scorned you. I repent and I love you with all my soul.

My soul, love a God bound as a criminal for you, a God scourged as a slave for you, a God made a king of mockery for you, a God who finally died on the cross as a malefactor for you.

Yes, my Savior, my God, I love you, I love you. Ah, remind me always of how much you suffered for me, so that I may never again forget to love you.

Ropes that bound Jesus, bind me to Jesus; thorns that crowned Jesus, wound me with love for Jesus; nails that pierced Jesus, nail me to the cross of Jesus, that I may live and die united with Jesus.

O blood of Jesus, intoxicate me with holy love. O death of Jesus, make me die to every earthly affection. Pierced feet of my Lord, I embrace you; deliver me from the hell I have deserved.

My Jesus, in hell I could no longer love you, but I wish to love you always. My beloved Savior, save me, hold me close to you, and do not allow me ever to lose you again.

O refuge of sinners, Mary, mother of my Savior, help a sinner who wishes to love God and commends himself to you; help me for the love you bear for Jesus Christ.