"Within Your Wounds
Hide Me..."
-
a Reflection on "The Exaltation of the Holy Cross"
by
Deacon Paul Rooney
Everyone is familiar with the great
contemplative prayer that we call the Anima Christi – "Soul of Christ." These are the opening words of a famous
prayer from the 14th century; the author's name is uncertain (but the prayer is sometimes attributed to
St. Ignatius of Loyola since it is included in his Spiritual Exercises). Many of us pray this beautiful prayer
immediately after receiving the body and blood of Christ at Mass every day. Here is the prayer (taken from my copy of the Spiritual Exercises, Ganss translation).
Soul of Christ, sanctify me.
Body of Christ, save me.
Blood of Christ, inebriate me.
Water from the side of Christ, wash me.
Passion of Christ, strengthen me.
O Good Jesus, hear me.
Within your wounds hide me.
Do not allow me to be separated from you.
From the malevolent enemy defend me.
In the hour of my death call me,
and bid me come to you,
that with your saints I may praise you
For ever and ever. Amen.
Body of Christ, save me.
Blood of Christ, inebriate me.
Water from the side of Christ, wash me.
Passion of Christ, strengthen me.
O Good Jesus, hear me.
Within your wounds hide me.
Do not allow me to be separated from you.
From the malevolent enemy defend me.
In the hour of my death call me,
and bid me come to you,
that with your saints I may praise you
For ever and ever. Amen.
But
what does it mean when we ask Jesus to hide us "within his wounds"? Why
do we make that request? There is great
food for hours and hours of meditation here, both on the words and on the
painting itself (by Fra Angelico: "The Deposition"). I thought I would share with you some of the
fruit of my own meditation, on today's Feast
of the Exaltation of the Holy Cross, September 14, 2013.
First
of all, I have set aside all of my previous thoughts on the meaning of this
sentence. I used to think it meant "Lord, save me from the Evil One; he
doesn't want to look at your redeeming wounds, so hide me there and I will be
safe from him." Oh, was I
poverty-stricken in my thoughts! Then
the Lord came to my rescue. When I told
my wife Patricia that I had always wondered what St. Ignatius (the attributed author) really meant by
this sentence, she suggested that I read a slim book called "Anima Christi." It was written by Mother Mary Francis, PCC –
the Abbess of the Poor Clare monastery in Roswell, New Mexico. (The picture above is from the cover of that
book.) I love to read, meditate and
reflect on contemplative literature, and I only have one word to describe this little
gem of a book: Wow! That recommendation from my wife was a gift
from the Holy Spirit!
My
renewed meditation took me down a different road – the road traveled by Abbess
Mary Francis. When I started writing my thoughts,
I discovered that my reflections were really hers, not mine. So any good that follows below I attribute
entirely to her, with deep gratitude.
The less-than-good is all mine. (I also recognize that reflections can take
many paths, and hers is not the only one.
As she herself says, there are "immense riches" to explore in
this prayer, as God leads us.)
The
painful wounds inflicted on the innocent Jesus were absorbed by him out of
total love for us. Love comes from the
heart, we are fond of saying. But that,
too, reveals a mystical truth: all love comes from God, who is
love. When the sacred heart of Jesus on
the Cross was pierced by a lance, blood and water flowed out – for centuries a
vivid symbol of the birth of the Church from the side of Jesus.
When
we ask Abbess Mary Francis about the phrase "hide me within your
wounds," she tells us that (for her) it does not mean we seek to find safety therein. Rather, it means that we are offering to
become the soothing medicine, the spiritual ointment that brings healing to the
mystical body of Christ, the Church. Love accepted from Jesus always evokes a
response in us; we want to become involved, to become "wounded healers,"
if I may borrow that phrase from the psychologist Carl Jung (made popular by Henri Nouwen in 1972).
We
cannot ask to be hidden, "sealed off from being wounded
ourselves." Instead, by offering
ourselves to serve the wounded mystical body of Christ, the Church, we
agree to become bearers of the fruit of the Holy Spirit that St. Paul talks
about so eloquently to the Galatians (5:22-23).
What
about our own flaws? Well, first we take
those flaws to Jesus on the Cross, and give them to him! In other words, we offer him all within us
that is not acceptable as a healing
agent, for his disposal. Then we can
take what is left in our hearts, and bring that Christ-life to others by
serving them unselfishly.
The
Cross is the sign of our salvation. It
speaks to us of the anima Christi. I hope you will join with me today, and spend
quality private time at the foot of a crucifix.
Speak to the wounded heart of Jesus from your own wounded heart. Ask him what he would like from you; then
open the ears of your heart to hear his answer and respond!
-
Deacon Paul Rooney
What a gift your reflection is! One of my favorite prayers has become even richer! God bless you!
ReplyDeleteThank you so much for this reflection and insight and the gift of your beautiful blog. I will now go and find a copy of the slim book Anima Christ. God Bless...
ReplyDeleteperfect insight..it resonated within me and I find myself still smiling as I type this comment-thank-you
ReplyDeleteTHank you!
ReplyDeleteDeacon Paul you have noted a very contemplative, Abbess Mary Francis, whose spiritual writings are insightful and uplifting. She will eventually become visible on the Vatican Bookshelf next to Teresa de Avila. Thank you! Blessings and prayers Fr. John R. Shedlock hedlock
ReplyDelete