Tuesday Morning

THE TEXT OF THE HOLY EVANGELISTS.

            When supper was done, Christ went with his disciples into a garden, which is called Gethsemane. And he said unto them. Sit ye here, whilst I go, and pray yonder. And he took with him Peter, and the two sons of Zebedee. And he began to be in a great fear, and heaviness. And he said unto them. My soul is heavy even unto death. Tarie ye here, and watch with me. So he went a little further from them, where he cast himself down prostrate on the earth, and fell on his face, and prayed, saying. O my Father, if it be possible, let this cup pass from me: nevertheless, not as I will, but as thou wilt. This done, he came to his Disciples, and found them asleep. And he said to Peter: What? Could ye not watch with me one hour? Watch, and pray, that ye enter not into temptation. The spirit is ready, but the flesh is weak. Again he went away the second time, and made the same prayer: saying. O my Father, if this cup cannot pass away from me, but that I must needs drink it, thy will be done. And he came a second time, and found his Disciples asleep: for their eyes were heavy. So he left them, and went away again, and prayed the third time, saying the same words. And there appeared an angel to him from heaven, comforting him. And being in an agony, he prayed more at length. And his sweat was like drops of blood, trickling down to the ground. Then he came to his Disciples, and said unto them. Sleep from hence forth, and take your rest. Behold the hour is at hand, and the son of man shall be delivered into the hands of sinners. Arise, let us go, behold he is at hand, that shall betray me. And whiles he yet spake, lo, Judas one of the twelve came, and with him a great multitude, with swords, and staves, and torches, and lanterns, being sent from the high priests, and elders of the people. Now he that betrayed him, had given them a token: saying: whomsoever I shall kiss, that is he, lay hands on him. And forthwith he came to Jesus, and said: Hail master, and kissed him. Then Jesus said unto him. Friend, wherefore art thou come? And Simon Peter drew out his sword, and stroke a servant of the high priest, and cut off his right ear. This servant was called Malcus. Then Jesus said unto Peter: put up thy sword into the scabbard. The cup that my Father hath given me, wilt thou not, that I drink it? And he touched the ear, and forthwith made it whole. At that time Jesus said to the high priests, and to the officers of the temple, and to the elders, that came unto him. Ye be come out, as it were, against a thief, with swords, and staves. I sat daily among you, teaching in the temple, and ye laid no hands on me. But this is your hour, and the power of darkness. Then the soldiers, and the captain, and the officers of the Jews, took Jesus, and bound him, and led him away to Annas first, (for he was father in law to Caiphas,) who was the high priest for that year. Then all the Disciples forsook him, and fled.

MEDITATIONS UPON THESE POINTS OF THE TEXT.

            What doest thou O my soul? What thinkest thou? It is no time now to sleep: Come with me I pray thee into the garden of Gethsemane, and there shalt thou hear, and see great mysteries. There shalt thou see joy stroken with sadness: fortitude waxen afraid: strength discomfited: majesty and omnipotence confounded: greatness, and mightiness, very narrowly straightened: and glory itself obscured, and darkened.

            Consider now first, how after that supper (which was so full of mystery) was ended, our Savior went with his disciples unto the mount Olivet to make his prayer, before he would enter into the combat of his passion: to give us thereby to understand, that in all troubles, and temptations of this life, we must always have recourse unto prayer, as it were to an holy anchor, by virtue whereof, the burden of tribulation shall either be taken quite away from us: or else we shall have strength given us, to be able to bear it: which is a far greater grace. For (as St. Gregory saith) our Lord doth us a greater benefit, when he giveth us force, and strength, to be able to sustain troubles, and temptations, than when he taketh the same troubles and temptations away from us.

            Our Savior took with him (to accompany him in this way) three of his best beloved Disciples: to wit: St. Peter: St. James, and St. John: which three a little before, had been witness of his glorious transfiguration. And this he did, that the very same persons might see, what a far different shape he took now upon him for the love of men, from that glorious shape, wherein he had shewed himself unto them at his transfiguration. And because they should understand, that the inward troubles, and agony of his soul, were no less than those that began to be discovered outwardly, he spake unto them those sorrowful words. My soul is heavy even unto death: tarry me here, and watch with me. That very God, and true man, that man that far excelleth both our human nature, and all things created, whose dealing, and conference, was with the very brest of the high Deity itself, with whom only he communicated his secrets, is now fallen into so great sorrow, and heaviness, that he is contented to give part of his pains unto his creatures, and to require of them their company saying: tarry me here, and watch with me. O treasure of heaven! O perfect felicity! Who hath brought thee O Lord unto such a harrow straight? Who hath driven thee to seek at other mens gates? Who hath caused thee to become a beggar, even of thine own creatures? Who hath done all this, but only the very great love thou hast to make them rich.

            Tell me O most sweet and merciful redeemer? Wherefore art thou now so much afraid of death, which before thou didst so much desire: seeing the fulfilling of the desire, is a cause rather of joy, than of fear? Verily the Martyrs had neither the fortitude, nor yet the grace, that thou hast. They had only a little portion, which thou (being the fountain of grace) didst impart unto them: and yet they with that only small quantity of grace, entered very cheerfully into the combat of their martyrdoms, and achieved the victory. And art thou (O Lord) being the giver of strength, and grace, sad, and fearful now, even before the battle begins? Assuredly (O Lord) this thy fear is not thine, but mine: as likewise the strength, and fortitude of thy Martyrs, was not theirs, but thine. The fear that thou hast, cometh of that, thou hast of us, and the strength and fortitude that the martyrs had, came of that, they had received of thee. The weakness of my human nature is discovered in that God was afraid: and the strength of thy godhead is shewed in the fortitude of man. So that this fear is mine, and that fortitude is thine. And therefore thy reproach is mine, and my praise is thine.

            There was taken a rib bone out of the side of our forefather Adam to form a woman thereof: and in steed of the bone, that was taken away, there was put weak and feeble flesh. Now what else is signified hereby, but that the everlasting father took from thee, being our second Adam, the force and strength of grace, to place the same in thy spouse the Catholic Church: and took from her the feeble flesh, and weakness, to place it in thee? By means whereof thy spouse remained strong, and thou weak: the strong, by reason of thy strength: and thou weak, by reason of her weakness. Thou hast herein (O heavenly Lord) bestowed a double benefit upon us, in that thou hast vouchsafed, not only to clothe us with thee, but even also to clothe thyself with us. For these two so singular benefits the angels praise thee for evermore, for that thou hast been no niggard in communicating thy benefits unto us, nor yet disdained to take upon thee our miseries. Now when I consider these things (O Lord,) what else should I do, but seeing myself, as it were loden with thy mercies, glory in thee, and seeing thee to be likewise replenished with my miseries for my sake, take compassion upon thee? For the one I will rejoice, and be glad: and for the other I will sorrow, and lament. And so with joy and lamentation together, I will sing and bewail the mystery of thy most dolorous passion: and I will study continually in that book of Ezechiel contents whereof are songs, and lamentations.

            When our savior had spoken these words he departed from his disciples a stones cast, where lying prostrate upon the ground, he began his prayer with very great reverence: saying, O father, if it be possible, let this cup pass from me, howbeit not as I will, but as thou wilt. And after he had made this prayer three times, at the third time he was in such a great agony, that he began to sweat even drops of blood, which ran down all along his sacred body, and trickled down to the ground.

            Consider now attentively, in what a dolorous case our savior was, and how there were then represented unto him all the cruel pains and torments he had to suffer, even as though they had been then presently in doing before his eyes: all which he apprehended after a most perfect manner in his most excellent imagination, each one in such sort, as they were prepared for his body, which was certainly more tender, and delicate, than ever any other body was in the whole world. He set also at that time before his eyes all the sins of the world, for which he should suffer: and withal the great unthankfulness and ingratitude of so many souls, as (he knew) would never acknowledge this his singular benefit, nor further and help themselves with this most precious, and so costly remedy. These things being profoundly weighed, and considered by our savior at this time, his soul was vexed in such sort, and his senses, and most tender flesh, were so wonderfully troubled, that all the forces, and elements of his body were distempered, and his blessed flesh opened on every side, and gave place to the blood, that it might pass and distill through all parts of his body in very great abundance, and stream down to the ground. Now if the flesh suffered such grievous pains, with the only remembrance, and imagination, of that which as then was to come, in what a doleful case then, trow ye, was his soul, that suffered those pains even directly in itself.

            In other men we see, when they are disquieted with any sudden, and great anguish, the blood useth commonly to have recourse unto the heart, leaving the other members of the body cold and destitute of their strength, to comfort the most principal member. But our sweet Savior Christ contrariwise, (because he would suffer without any manner of comfort, thereby to make our redemption more abundant,) such was his passing love towards us, that he would not admit so much, as that little relief, and comfort of nature.

            Behold our sweet savior now in this dolorous agony, and consider not only the painful anguishes, and griefs of his soul, but also the form of his sacred, and reverent countenance.

            The sweat is wont to have his most chief, and principal recourse to the forehead, and to the face. If then the blood issued out through all the body of our Savior, in such sort, that it trickled down to the very earth: in what plight then was that goodly clear forehead think you, that giveth light to the very light itself? And how was that face berayed, which is so reverenced of the heavens, being as it was all in drops, and covered over with a bloody sweat. If such as be kind, and loving, are wont when they come to visit their friends, being sick, and in danger of death, to behold their countenance advisedly, and to mark the color, and other accidents, that proceed of the disease, tell me o my soul, that beholdest the face of our sweet savior, what thinkest thou, when thou beholdest in the same such wonderful, strange, and deadly signs? What painful fits, and dolorous griefs, are those like to be hereafter, if in the very beginning of the disease he suffer such a great agony? In what dolorous pangs is he like to be, when he shall feel those most grievous pains, and cruel torments themselves, if in the only thinking of them, he sweateth even drops of blood? If thou be not moved to take compassion of our sweet savior, seeing him in this doleful case for thy sake: If now when he sweateth drops of blood throughout all his body, thou canst not shed any tears from thine eyes, think verily with thyself, that thou hast a very hard and stony heart: and if thou canst not weep for want of love towards him, yet at the least weep for the multitude of thy sins: forsomuch as they were the very cause of this his agony, and grief. Now the tormentors do not whip him: neither do the soldiers crown him with thorns: It is not now the nails, nor the thorns, that do cause the blood to gush out of his body at this time: but it is thy very sins, and offences. Those are the thorns that do prick him: those are the tormentors that do torment him: those are the heavy burden, that cause him to sweat this so strange, and wonderful bloody sweat. O my sweet savior, and redeemer, how dearly hast thou bought my salvation, and redemption! O my true Adam, that art come out of paradise for my sins, and laborest here in earth with thy bloody sweat, to get the bread that I must feed upon.

            Consider also in this place, on the one side, the great agony, and watching of our Savior Christ, and on the other, the sound and deep sleeping of his disciples, and thou shalt see here represented a great mystery. For truly there is nothing more to be lamented in the world, than to see how careless and negligent men be in their lives, and how little accompt they make of a matter of so great importance, as is their own salvation. What thing is more to be bewailed, than to see men so careless in such weighty affairs? Now if thou wilt understand both the one, and the other, consider in this matter, the doings of our savior, and withal the doings of his disciples. See how our savior applying his mind earnestly to this business of our redemption, is in such a great care, and agony therewith, that it maketh him to sweat even drops of blood: and see on the other side, how his disciples do lie along on the ground, and are so heavy asleep that neither their masters rebuking of them, nor their ill favored and hard lodging on the bare ground, nor yet the obscure and dark dewy night, are able to awake them out of their heavy and drowsy sleep. Note also of what importance the salvation of mankind is, sith it is able to make him to sweat drops of blood, by whose power the heavens are sustained. And consider on the other side, how little accompt men themselves make of their own salvation, sith at such time as almighty God himself is so careful, and watchful for them, they are in a deep heavy sleep, and utterly careless thereof. Assuredly, nothing could more lively express both the one, and the other, than the consideration of these two points, being so strange as they are. For if almighty God do take so great care about the affairs of others, how happeneth it, that the very persons themselves, to whom even the charge and travail of the affairs appertaineth, (together with the profit, commodity, loss, and damage of the same) do live with such carelessness, and negligence therein?

            By this same care of our Savior, and carelessness of his disciples, thou mayst understand, how truly this Lord is our father, and how he hath indeed towards us the very bowels, and heart of a true, and loving father. How often times chanceth it, trow ye, that the daughter sleepeth very soundly, and quietly, when her father watcheth all the night, carking and caring for her relief, and provision. And even so doth this our most loving and merciful father for us, whiles we be so heavy asleep, and are utterly careless of our own salvation, as by this example is lively set out before our eyes, in that he continueth all the night watching, and sweating, and in great agony to take order for the redemption he intended to bestow upon us.

HOW OUR SAVIOR WAS APPREHENDED.

Consider moreover, how when our savior had finished his prayer, Judas that counterfeit and false friend of his, came thither with that hellish company, where renouncing the office of an Apostle, he became now the very principal ringleader and Captain of Satans army. Consider how without all shame he pressed, and set himself even the very foremost before all the rest of his malicious rout: and coming to his good master, sold him with a kiss of most traitorous, and deceitful friendship. It is certainly a great misery, that a man should be sold for money, but yet it is much more miserable, if he be sold of his friends, and of such, as to whom he hath been greatly beneficial before. Now our sweet Savior Christ is sold of him, whom he had made not only his disciple, but also his Apostle: yea, he is sold of him by deceit and plain treason, he is sold of him to most cruel merchants, that covet (you may be sure) nothing else of him, but only his blood, and life, to satisfy their greedy hunger. But for what price trow ye, is he sold? The baseness and smallness of the price increaseth the greatness and malice of the injury. Tell me, O Judas, thou naughty traitor, at what price dost thou set the Lord of all creatures? At thirty pence. O what a vile and slender price is this for a Lord of such majesty! Certainly, a very beast in the shambles is commonly sold for more. And dost thou o traitor, sell for so small a price almighty God himself? He setteth not thee at so small a price: forsomuch as he buyeth thee with his own most precious blood. O what a great price and estimation was that of man! And how base an estimation and price was this of God! God is sold for thirty pence: and man is bought even with the very precious blood of almighty God himself!

            At the same time our savior said unto them that came to lay hands upon him: Ye be come out, as it were against a thief, with swords, and spears, and I sat daily among you, teaching in the temple, and ye never laid hands upon me, but this is your hour, and the power of darkness. This is surely a mystery of great admiration. For what thing is more to be wondered at, than to see the very son of almighty God to take upon him the Image, and shape, not only of a sinner, but even also of a condemned person? This (saith he) is your hour, and the power of darkness. The which words give us to understand, that from that time, that most innocent lamb was given up into the power of the princes of darkness, which are the devils, to the intent that by means of their members, and cruel ministers, they might execute upon him all the furious torments and cruelties they could devise. And like as holy Job, was by the permission of almighty God given up into the power of Satan, that he might use upon him all the cruelty he would, this only excepted, that he should not bereave him of his life: even so was there power given to the princes of darkness, without any exception either of life, or death, that they might fully extend upon that sacred humanity all their fury and rage to the uttermost they could. Hereof rose those despiteful taunts, those slanderous and reproachful words, such as the like were never heard before that time, wherewith the devil pretended to satisfy his unsatiable rancor, and malice, to revenge his injuries, and to cast that blessed soul down into some kind of impatiency, if it had been possible. Almighty God (saith the Prophet Zacharie) shewed Jesus the high priest unto me, appareled with a spotted garment, and Satan stood at his right hand, ready prepared to speak against him. But our Savior answered for his part, saying: I did always set God before mine eyes, who standeth at my right hand, that I be not removed.

            Consider then now o my soul, how much that high and divine majesty abased himself for thy sake, sithence he vouchsafed to come to the last extremity of all miseries, which is, to be given up to the power of devils. And because this was the pain, that was due to thy sins, it pleased him to put even himself to this pain, that thou mightest remain quite and free from the same. O holy Prophet, why dost thou wonder to see almighty God become inferior to his angels? Thou hast now far greater cause to wonder, to see him given up into the power of devils. Undoubtedly both the heavens, and the earth, trembled, and quaked, at this so passing great humility, and charity of our Savior. So soon as these words were spoken, forthwith all that hellish rout, and malicious rabble of ravening wolves assaulted this most meek and innocent lamb, and some very furiously haled him this way, and some that way, each one to the uttermost of his power. O how ungently did they handle him! How uncourteously spake they unto him! How many blows and buffets gave they him! What a vile clamorous crying and shouting made they over him, even as conquerors use to do, when they have obtained their prey! They lay hold upon those holy hands (which not long before had wrought so many wonderful miracles,) and do bind them very hard, and fast, with certain rough, and knotty cords: and that in such force, that they gall the skin of his arms, and make the very blood to spring out. Our savior being thus bound, they lead him openly through the high common streets, with great despite, and ignominy. O what a strange and wonderful sight is this! Consider now with thyself, what thou wouldst think, if thou knewest some man of great authority, and worthiness, and shouldest see him led openly by the officers through the common streets, with an halter tied about his neck, his hands manacled and fast bound, in a great hurly burly, and concourse of people, with great clashing, and noise of men of arms, and soldiers guarding him: Imagine (I say) with thyself, what thou wouldst think in this case: and then lift up thine eyes, and behold this Lord, worthy of so great reverence, and honor, that had wrought such wonders in that land, that had preached such divine sermons among them, whom all the sick and impotent persons, did honor, and reverence, and besought to have remedy for all their diseases, and griefs. Consider now, how they lead him, as one deprived of all authority, and to put to open shame: partly going, and partly hauled forwards, and enforced to hasten his pace: not in such wise, as became a man of his gravity, and personage, but as it liked the outrageous fury of his unmerciful enemies, and the desire they had to pleasure the Pharisees, who had so great a longing to have that prey within their grips. Consider our savior well, how he goeth in this doleful way, abandoned of his own disciples, accompanied with his enemies: his pace hastened and disordered: his breath in a manner gone: his color changed: his face chafed, and inflamed, by reason of his so quick, and hasty passage. And yet in all this evil entreating of his person, behold the modest behavior of his countenance, the comely gravity of his eyes, and that divine resemblance, which in the midst of all the discourtesies in the world could never be obscured. Ascend also yet a little higher, and consider diligently what he is, whom thou seest thus led, and carried away, with such great contumely, and dishonor. This is he, that is the word of the father: the everlasting wisdom: the infinite virtue: the chief goodness: the perfect felicity: the true glory: and the clear fountain of all beauty. Consider then, how for thy salvation, and redemption, virtue is here tied with bands: innocence apprehended: wisdom flouted, and laughed to scorn: honor contemned: glory tormented: and the clear wellspring of all beauty troubled with weeping, and sorrow. If Heli the priest felt such an inward grief, when the Ark of the testament was taken, that being astonished therewith, he fell from the seat whereupon he sat, and brake his neck, and forthwith gave up the Ghost? How ought a Christian soul to be grieved, when he seeth the ark of all the treasures of the wisdom of almighty God, led, and taken in the possession of such unmerciful and cruel enemies? The heavens and earth praise him therefore, and all that is in them: for he hath heard the cries of the poor, and hath not despised the sorrowful bewailings of his afflicted, that were in captivity, but was content to be taken captive himself, to deliver them out of their thraldom and to set them at liberty.

OF THOSE THAT DO SPIRITUALLY BIND the hands of our Savior Christ.

        Wherefore (O most gentle, and sweet savior) sithence it was thy blessed will, and pleasure, to be bound, to the intent, thou mightest by thy bands unloose us, and deliver us from our captivity, I most humbly beseech thee, even by the bowels of thy tender mercy, that caused thee to abase thyself after this sort, that thou wilt not suffer me to commit any such great wickedness, as to bind thy hands, as the Jews did.

            For it is not the Jews only, that do bind thy hands, but whosoever maketh resistance against thy holy inspirations, and will not go wither thou wilt guide, and conduct him, but refuseth to accept that grace, which thou dost most mercifully offer unto him.

            That man likewise bindeth thy hands, that giveth any scandalous offence unto his neighbor, and by his evil example, and naughty counsel, withdraweth him from his godly purposes, and so hindereth the good work, that thou didst begin to work in him.

            The mistrustful, and incredulous persons also, do bind O Lord the hands of thy liberality, and clemency. For like as confidence openeth the hands of thy grace: even so doth incredulity, and mistrustfulness close them up, and bind them: according to the saying of the Evangelist, that thou couldest not do many virtues, and miracles in thy country, by reason of the incredulity of the inhabitants therein.

Moreover, the ungrateful, and negligent persons, do bind thy hands O Lord, and do put an impediment to let the working of thy grace: the one, because they render not thanks unto thee, for the grace they have received: and the other, because they will not use the grace, that is given unto them, but do keep it idle, and unoccupied, without taking any benefit, or commodity of the same.

Last of all, those that become vainglorious, and proud, by reason of the graces, thou hast given them, do also most strongly bind thy hands. For by this offence they make themselves altogether unworthy of thy grace. Wherefore it is not reason, that thou shouldest continue to be beneficial unto such persons, as take occasion thereof to become more vain: neither is it seemly, that thou shouldest bestow the treasures of thy grace upon such a one, as yieldeth not to thee again the tribute of glory: but doth rather like a traitor, and robber, wax insolent, and vaunting, with the same, and usurpeth to himself the right, and prerogative of glory, that appertaineth unto thee alone.

I might say also, O Lord, that those talkers, and prattlers, that keep not secret such consolations, and spiritual feelings, as thou givest them, do likewise bind thy hands: for like as wise, and discrete men, will not communicate their secrets any more unto them, who they have found unfaithful in publishing them abroad; even so dost thou also many times leave to make those persons partakers of thy secrets, who without any cause do publish, and reveal them to others, and take occasion thereby to make themselves more vain.