Mercy and Justice Are Coterminous

 LECTIO: James 2:13

For judgment is without mercy to one who has shown no mercy; yet mercy triumphs over judgment.

STUDIUM:

It is an act of love for God to give us this Eucharist.  His love for us sinners anticipates the adoration we need to exchange with God.  He has given us this Eucharist because He has mercy on us.  And mercy trumps judgment. 
     Does it, really?  I feel James 2:13, is a bit misleading. If God isn’t about justice, then our hope for true justice is in vain.  We can see that there is no true justice, here on earth.  It is obvious that life isn’t fair.  Only with God will we find true justice.
     If God desired justice after the fall of Adam and Eve, we would all be sentenced to hell, forever. Then I wouldn’t be here in front of the monstrance, would I?  Luckily, God is also all merciful.  Hence, Jesus’ atonement on the cross.

MEDITATIO:

I am driving myself crazy!  This is a hard lesson for me, Lord.  It is against the culture I live in.  Usually, mercy means forget about judgment.  You didn’t forget about Adam and Eve’s sin.  Jesus atoned for that. You gave us this Eucharist, I see before me. How can I judge and be merciful, at the same time?  As you often told St. Catherine, “You are God; she was not.” 

Ugh!  I give up.

ORATIO:

I thank you Lord, that You are not a fickle god like the pagans worshipped, or even the non-Christian religions that worship a god that disregard justice to showcase their mercy.  My One True God is omniscient and satisfies the demands of justice with mercy because He is love.

CONTEMPLATIO:

Come, Lord Jesus!  You are God, I am not.

RESOLUTIO:

Never again will I judge my neighbors.  It’s above my pay-grade—way above.  

Eucharist Adoration

 It’s 7:00 AM, and the Blessed Sacrament is exposed under a rich canopy; during the night, the women took turns in adoration.  The year is 1864 and the women are prisoners in Cadillac, France.

They were 397 women, relatively young, their crimes ranging from murder, robbery, and prostitution.  Illiteracy was very common.  A Dominican preacher was requested to begin a retreat in preparation to beginning perpetual Adoration.  In these days, people didn’t receive Communion frequently and Adoration was considered a spiritual communion.

The friar was fairly new.  His name was M. Jean-Joseph Lataste, O.P.* In order not to interfere with the labor of the prisoners, the retreat time had to be taken from the inmates’ sleep.  Imagine the trembling, young friar presenting himself at the prison door. Imagine him looking over the sleepy congregation, kerchiefed heads bowed down.  Would they not listen to him, fall asleep, be disrespectful, or even mock him out loud?  Here is how Father Lataste described his state of mind:

They were there, almost four hundred of them, dressed in shabby clothes, a handkerchief tightly wound their temples, giving them a very unusual appearance which somehow was offensive to me.  The point is I was prejudice. In fact, I had a horror of them.

At the beginning of the first sermon, the preacher went beyond his personal repulsion, and raised his eyes to his audience.  His first words, his greeting, landed like a bomb.

My dear sisters,…

He didn’t call them sinners, and rant about their crimes and scream at them to repent. Rather, he spoke of God’s love.  As he talked about the mercy of God, he heard them sobbing.  Gradually, their handkerchief heads rose, with eyes wet with tears.

He was the first one to be converted.

They brightened at the story of Jesus exorcising the demons from Mary Magdalene.  They asked about the love of Mary Magdalene for Jesus.  Could Jesus love them?

I spoke to them of God’s great mercy, of God’s great love, of God’s preferential love for sincerely repentant souls who want to love like Magdalene.  You would have seen them gently raise their heads, like flowers after a storm when the sun comes out to touch them.  Their faces lit up little by little; it seemed that they breathed more easily and that the walls of the prison, heavy as they were, had become light.

He told them when they knelt in front of the monstrance, to give Jesus their love like Mary Magdalene did--to speak to Him from their hearts.  God loved them and would forgive them for their transgressions.  The mercy of God respects the basic dignity of every human being, who is called to holiness whatever their past.

The women looked at the Blessed Sacrament in awe.  It was a mystery.  They wondered if it were true that Jesus could love them.  He loved Mary Magdalene.  He loved Dismas.  He was God; His mercy was endless; His forgiveness was given; His love was for them.  They could feel it.  Finally, they were free to love Jesus.  They would be like Mary Magdalene and love Him, forever.  Their hearts beat in unison with the pulsating joy and happiness emanating from the Monstrance.

*Blessed M. Jean-Joseph Lataste, O.P. founded the Dominican Sisters of Bethany, with some of these same inmates.  His cause for canonization is being considered. He is known as the Apostle to Prisoners.

Quotes from My Dear Sisters, Fr. Jean-Marie Guellette, O.P., New Hope Publications, 2018.

Two Year Olds and Mercy

She wouldn't come out of the shower.  My granddaughter is only 22 months and already she was throwing a temper tantrum.  I take her swimming once a week in a YMCA pool.  She loves it.  She loves to shower, also.

The problem was that she was tired.  Swimming wipes her out.  I told her it was time to go home--to see--Mommy and Daddy.  But she was screaming so loud she couldn't hear a word I said.  I shut the water off.  She screamed louder.  I tried to pull her out but she was slippery wet and backed away from me.  I offered her food and she took it and threw it at me.  I offered her a toy.  That was thrown at me, too.

She was uncontrollable.

I didn't know what to do.  She had to come out.  I wrapped her in a towel and took her out screaming, crying, kicking, slapping and also slippery wet.  I had a hard time drying her, never mind her resisting and hampering every article of clothing I put on her.

Everyone in the locker room looked at us disapprovingly.  Not one look of sympathy!  Not one offer of help.  In fact, the locker room emptied of people.

I got her dressed, enough...no socks nor shoes because she wasn't walking; she had to be carried out.  She still screamed bloody murder.  Her hair was a mess.  There was no way I could dry it, let alone comb it.  Forget barrettes!

She's about 30 pounds.  That's 30 pounds of resistance.  Besides kicking, punching, slapping, she was now biting.  Did I mention that I was carrying a backpack of wet towels and bathing suits?
I also had the diaper bag.  In addition, my pocketbook was a heavy burden.

I carried all.  But with her squirming and pushing, I had to keep stopping and adjusting my hold on her, so I wouldn't drop her.  It seemed an inordinate amount of time to traverse my way out of the locker room, down the corridor, through the foyer, out to the parking lot.  Meanwhile, trying to sheepishly smile away the hostile glares.  I was not a monster.  She was!

She kept it up as we painstakingly staggered to the car.  Damn!  Why did I park in the last row?

Finally, the car door was opened.  I resisted the urge to throw her in her car seat, and firmly placed her in a secure position.

Do you believe the volume of her screams never lessened?

I backed out of the parking space.  I put the car in gear and proceeded out of the parking lot.

All of a sudden, it was quiet.  I looked in the rear view mirror.  Could she be asleep, already?  I stopped the car and looked at her.

She was sound asleep.

No she didn't look like an angel.  Her expression showed that she was asleep under protest.

So be it.  And she stayed asleep, as her mother carried her to her crib.  She napped for three hours.

I was upset and angry.  I thought of God's providence.  Hmpf.   Then I thought of Father Lataste's message of love and mercy.  Hmpf.

Yes, she's my granddaughter and I do love her.  I'm upset but not angry.  She's not even two, so who can I be angry at.  God?  Well, who else?

So OK, there's nobody to be angry at.  I have to forgive her because she's only a baby and doesn't understand.  She can't articulate her feelings any other way.

Do you think God feels the same way about us?  We sin because were human.  We upset Him but He has to forgive us because we don't know any better.  Is this what Father Lataste was trying to tell the women in Cadillac?

God is all merciful, full of love.

Hmpf.  But I'm not divine.

I will never take her into a shower, again.  Never.  From now on, we come out of the pool, and walk by the showers, and go to the dressing rooms.  No more showers.  Never.  At least until she out of the terrible two's.

Worse than Judas' Betrayal

Judas' Conscience               Image via Wikipedia

Ponder this.  What's worse than betraying Jesus?  Judas did it.  Peter did it.  People do it all the time.  Betraying Jesus isn't common place, but it's not unheard of.  But there's something worse.

It's despairing of God's mercy.  Once Judas knew he did wrong, he despaired.  So those that argue that someone had to betray Jesus, so God chose Judas as the instrument, forget about free will.  Judas did wrong, but he didn't try to right the wrong.  He didn't ask for God's mercy.  Scripture doesn't support the idea of someone had to do it.

What do you think of this idea?  Judas didn't despair of God's mercy; he despaired of human mercy.  Judas knew the disciples would never forgive him.  He also knew that God was all merciful, so he chose to face God, rather than the disciples.

There's no scripture reference to lead to that conclusion, either.  I guess will have to wait and ask him.