ON CALVARY - THE CRUCIFIXION
3. The Insults.
Yet there seems to be nobody around Jesus who does not rejoice, who does not take a satanic pleasure in that horrible scene of blood. All around are sarcastic and horrible insults. What more could His enemies desire? They have achieved a complete victory. They have Jesus fastened to the cross; already about to expire; and yet they want to enjoy the last moments of agony by making Him suffer still more and to the bitter last, insulting Him even in His agony. What a tyrant is passion when it succeeds in enslaving the heart of man. It is never satisfied. It always wants more, no matter how brutal, how unhuman, how absolutely irrational. Passions have no heart.
And it was so with that multitude. Those Jews, those priests were so passionately vindictive against Jesus. They do not spare Him even in His agony. With the most vulgar insults they gloat over His sufferings. They mock Him as a Prophet who had said He could destroy the Temple and rebuild it in three days. They mock Him as Son of God, since thus He had called Himself. They insult Him as a Master and King who had power to save others but could not save Himself. They would still challenge Him: "If you come down from the cross we will believe in you." How sad must have been those mockeries for Jesus. See the amount of ingratitude and contempt of God's love involved by it, just at the most solemn moment of our Redemption.
Jesus would keep silent, would suffer, would go on suffering and tasting the infinite bitterness of His sorrow. How can we understand or express what all those insults meant to Mary? By the cross, as close to Her Son as She can, She stands to the last. Stabat Mater, erect and motionless, Her hands pressed to Her breast, as if to restrain Her heart from jumping out, Her eyes fixed on Jesus. She cannot look elsewhere. She reads the Passion in that torn body, the book as it were written with a Divine Blood.
Watch death creep slowly towards the Divine Victim. And Mary, stronger than death, does not flee but remains there, without moving an inch. Stabat Mater. Hear the blasphemies of those tigers, who do not even respect the sorrow of a Mother, watching Her Son die. She might tearfully tell them, "Enough, enough, you wild beasts! Leave Him in peace at least now. He is My Son. Have pity on my sorrow!" But no, She like Jesus keeps silent. Her heart chokes in Her anguish. And while all nature shakes, the rocks crash, the earth quakes, She stands motionless. Stabat. Meditate on this and promise your Mother to be faithful to your duties, never to quit your post, never to desert your cross. Let it be said of you also as of Your Mother: Stabat!
[Excerpted from 'MARIAN MEDITATIONS' Book by Rev. Dr. Ildefonso R. Villar, Salesian Philippine Province, Nihil Obstat; Imprimatur]
Yet there seems to be nobody around Jesus who does not rejoice, who does not take a satanic pleasure in that horrible scene of blood. All around are sarcastic and horrible insults. What more could His enemies desire? They have achieved a complete victory. They have Jesus fastened to the cross; already about to expire; and yet they want to enjoy the last moments of agony by making Him suffer still more and to the bitter last, insulting Him even in His agony. What a tyrant is passion when it succeeds in enslaving the heart of man. It is never satisfied. It always wants more, no matter how brutal, how unhuman, how absolutely irrational. Passions have no heart.
And it was so with that multitude. Those Jews, those priests were so passionately vindictive against Jesus. They do not spare Him even in His agony. With the most vulgar insults they gloat over His sufferings. They mock Him as a Prophet who had said He could destroy the Temple and rebuild it in three days. They mock Him as Son of God, since thus He had called Himself. They insult Him as a Master and King who had power to save others but could not save Himself. They would still challenge Him: "If you come down from the cross we will believe in you." How sad must have been those mockeries for Jesus. See the amount of ingratitude and contempt of God's love involved by it, just at the most solemn moment of our Redemption.
Jesus would keep silent, would suffer, would go on suffering and tasting the infinite bitterness of His sorrow. How can we understand or express what all those insults meant to Mary? By the cross, as close to Her Son as She can, She stands to the last. Stabat Mater, erect and motionless, Her hands pressed to Her breast, as if to restrain Her heart from jumping out, Her eyes fixed on Jesus. She cannot look elsewhere. She reads the Passion in that torn body, the book as it were written with a Divine Blood.
Watch death creep slowly towards the Divine Victim. And Mary, stronger than death, does not flee but remains there, without moving an inch. Stabat Mater. Hear the blasphemies of those tigers, who do not even respect the sorrow of a Mother, watching Her Son die. She might tearfully tell them, "Enough, enough, you wild beasts! Leave Him in peace at least now. He is My Son. Have pity on my sorrow!" But no, She like Jesus keeps silent. Her heart chokes in Her anguish. And while all nature shakes, the rocks crash, the earth quakes, She stands motionless. Stabat. Meditate on this and promise your Mother to be faithful to your duties, never to quit your post, never to desert your cross. Let it be said of you also as of Your Mother: Stabat!
[Excerpted from 'MARIAN MEDITATIONS' Book by Rev. Dr. Ildefonso R. Villar, Salesian Philippine Province, Nihil Obstat; Imprimatur]
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