This day (when thou hast made the sign of the Cross, and prepared thyself hereunto) thou hast to meditate, and consider: How our Savior was crowned with thorns: How Pilate said of him to the people, ECCE HOMO: Behold the man: And how he bare the Cross upon his shoulders.
THE TEXT OF THE HOLY EVANGELISTS.
When our Savior had been thus whipped, and scourged, the soldiers of the president took him into the common hall, and there gathered about him the whole band. And they stripped him, and put upon him a purple robe, and platted a crown of thorns, and put it on his head, and a reed in his right hand. And they bowed their knees before him, and mocked him, saying: Hail O king of the Jews: and they spitted upon him, and took the reed he held in his hand, and smote him on the head therewith. Then Pilate went forth again, and said unto them: Behold I bring him forth to you, that ye may know, that I find no fault in him at all. Then came Jesus forth, wearing a crown of thorns, and a purple garment. And Pilate said to them: Behold the man. Then when the high priests and officers saw him, they cried, saying: Crucify him, Crucify him. Pilate said unto them. Take ye him, and crucify him. For I find no fault in him. The Jews answered, and said: We have a law, and by our law he ought to die, because he made himself the son of God. Then when Pilate heard that word, he was the more afraid, and went again into the common hall, and said unto Jesus. Whence art thou? But Jesus gave him no answer. Then said Pilate unto him. Speakest thou not unto me? Knowest thou not, that I have power to crucify thee, and have power to loose thee? Jesus answered: Thou couldest have no power at all against me, except it were given thee from above: Therefore he that delivered me unto thee hath the greater sin. From thenceforth Pilate sought to loose him. But the Jews cried out, requiring to have him crucified, and their cries prevailed. And Pilate determined to accomplish their request. And he let loose unto them him, that for an insurrection, and murder, was cast into prison, whom they desired, and delivered Jesus unto them, to do with him what they would.
And they took Jesus, and led him away. And he bare his Cross, and came into a place, that was called Calvary And there followed him a great multitude of people, and women, which bewailed, and lamented him. But Jesus turned back unto them, and said: Daughters of Jerusalem, weep not for me, but weep for yourselves, and for your children. For behold, the days will come, when men shall say. Blessed are the baren, and the wombs that never bare, and the paps that never gave suck. Then shall they begin to say to the mountains: fall upon us: and to the hills: Cover us. For if they do these things to the green tree, what shall be done to the dry?
MEDITATIONS UPON THESE POINTS OF THE TEXT.
Come forth O ye daughters of Sion, and behold king Salomon with the crown, wherewith his mother crowned him at the day of his espousals, and upon the day of the joyfulness of his heart. O my soul, what dost thou? O my heart, what thinkest thou? O my tongue, how is it, that thou art become dumb? What heart is not broken? What hardness is not mollified? What eyes can abstain from tears, and lamentation, beholding such a pitiful and doleful sight, as this is? O my most sweet Savior, and redeemer, when I open mine eyes, and do behold this dolorous Image, which is here set before me, how is it, that my heart doth not even cleave and rent in sunder, for very anguish, and grief? I see the most tender head of my Lord, and Savior, pierced with cruel thorns, at whose presence the powers of heaven do tremble, and quake: I see his divine face spitted upon, and buffeted: I see the light of his goodly bright forehead obscured: I see his clear eyes dimmed, or rather blinded with showers of blood: I see the streams of blood, trickling down from his head: which fall over his eyes, and stain the beauty of his divine face. How happeneth it (O Lord,) that the cruel whippings thou didst suffer before, and the death that ensueth, and the great quantity of blood that was so cruelly shed, did not suffice, but that the sharp thorns also should now perforce let out the blood of thy head, which the whips and scourges before had pardoned? If thou didst receive those reproaches, and buffets, to make satisfaction by them for such blows, and buffets, as I through my sins have laid upon thee, hadst thou not received enough of them all the night before? If thy death alone was sufficient to redeem us, what needed so many kinds of most shameful villainies, and reproaches? To what end were all these new inventions, and strange devices of contempts, and mockeries? Who hath ever heard, or read of such a kind of crown? Or of such manner of torments? Out of what heart came this new invention into the world, that one punishment should serve in such wise, as both to torment a man, and withal to dishonor him? Were not those cruel torments sufficient, that had been used in all former ages, but that they must also invent these new and strange punishments at the time of thy most bitter passion? I see well (O Lord) that these so manifold injuries were not necessary for my redemption, (for even one only drop of thy most precious blood was sufficient for the same:) howbeit it was very convenient, that they should be so many, and so great, that thou mightest thereby declare unto me, the greatness of thy love: and by means of them link me unto thee with chains, and fetters of perpetual bond, and duty: and confound the gay braveries, and fond shews of my pride, and vanities: and teach me thereby to despise the pomp, and glory of the world.
Wherefore O my soul, that thou mayst conceive, and have some feeling of this so doleful passage, set first before thine eyes, the former shape of this Lord, and withal the excellency of his virtues: and then incontinently turn thyself, and behold him in such pitiful sort, as he is here represented unto us. Consider therefore the greatness of his former beauty, the modesty of his eyes, the sweetness of his words, his authority, his meekness, his mild behavior, and that goodly countenance of his, so full of gravity, and reverence. Behold how humble he was towards his disciples: How fair spoken towards his enemies: How stout towards the proud: How sweet towards the meek: and how merciful towards all sorts of persons. Consider how mild he hath always been in suffering: how wise in answering: how pitiful in his judgements: how merciful in receiving sinners: and how free, and bountiful in pardoning their offences.
When thou hast thus beholden our Savior, and delighted thyself with beholding such a perfect form, turn thine eyes, and behold him in this pitiful plight, wherein he is here set out to the world, clad in most scornful wise with an old purple garment, holding a reed in his hand in steed of a royal scepter. Behold that horrible and painful diadem of thorn on his head, those hollow and wane eyes, and that dead countenance. Behold that strange form of his, wholly disfigured, and begored with blood, and defiled with the spittle, which they had besmeared all over his face. Behold him in all parts, both inwardly, and outwardly, his heart pierced with sorrows: his body full of wounds: forsaken of his own disciples: persecuted of the Jews: scorned of the soldiers: contemned of the Bishops: basely rejected of the wicked king: accused unjustly: and utterly destitute of the favor of all men.
And think upon this, not as a thing past, but as a thing present: not as though it were any other mans pain, but as though it were thine own. Imagine thyself to be in the place of him, that suffereth: and think with thyself what a terrible pain it would be unto thee, if in so sensible and tender a part as the head is, they should fasten a number of thorns (yea and those very sharp) which should pierce even to the skull. But what speak I of thorns? If it were but one only prick of a pine, thou couldest hardly abide the pain of it. And therefore thou mayst well think what a sore grievous pain that most tender, and delicate head of our Savior felt at that time, with this strange kind of torment.
Wherefore O brightness of the glory of the father, who hath thus cruelly delt with thee? O unspotted glass of the majesty of almighty God, who hath thus wholly bespotted thee? O River that flowest out of the paradise of delights, and with thy streams rejoicest the City of God, who hath troubled these so clear, and sweet waters? It is my sins (O Lord) that have so troubled them, and my iniquities have made them so muddy. Alas poor wretch, and miserable caitiff, that I am. Woe is me: how have my sins bespotted mine own soul, seeing the sins of others have here so foully bespotted and troubled the very clear fountain of all beauty? My sins O Lord, are the thorns that prick thee: My follies are the purple, that scorn thee: My hypocrisy, and feigned holiness, are the ceremonies, wherewith they despise thee: My gay garments, and vanities, are the crown, wherewith they crown thee. So that I O Lord am thy tormentor, and I am the very cause of thy pains, and griefs. The king Ezechias purified the temple, that had been profaned by wicked persons, and commanded that all the filth that was therein should be cast into the river of Cedron. I O Lord am this lively temple, that is profaned by the devils, and defiled with infinite sins: and thou art the clear river of Cedron, that dost with thy running streams sustain all the beauty of heaven. In this river O Lord are all my sins drowned: In this river are my iniquities washed away: insomuch as by the merit of that unspeakable charity, and humility, with which thou hast humbled thyself, to take upon thee all my sins, thou hast not only delivered me from them, but also made me partaker of thy graces, and treasures. For in taking upon thee my death, thou hast given me thy life: in taking upon thee myself, thou hast given me thy spirit: and in taking upon thee my sins, thou hast given me thy grace. So that (O my merciful redeemer,) all thy pains are my treasures, and riches: Thy purple clotheth me: thy crown honoreth me: thy strokes beautify me: thy sorrows comfort me: thy anguishes sustain me: thy wounds heal me: thy blood enricheth me: and thy love maketh me drunk. And what wonder is it, if thy love make me drunk, seeing the love thou barest towards me, was able to make thee also drunken, and to leave thee like an other Noe to appear dishonored, and naked, to the open sight of the world? The purple of burning love causeth thee to sustain the purple of shame, and reproach: the earnest zeal thou hast of my profit, and furtherance, causeth thee to be content to hold this reed in thy hand: And the compassion thou hast of my loss, and damnation, moveth thee to bear this dolorous crown of ignominy upon thy head.
OF THOSE WORDS OF THE GOSPEL, ECCE HOMO: Behold the man.
When they had thus crowned, and scorned our Savior, the Judge took him by the hand, in such evil plight as he was, and leading him out to the sight of the furious people said these words unto them: ECCE HOMO, Behold the man. Which is as much as if he had said: If for envy ye seek his death, behold him here in what a pitiful and doleful case he is. A man undoubtedly not to be envied, but to be pitied. If you were afraid least he should have become a king, behold him here so wholly disfigured, that scarcely he seemeth to be a man? Of these hands so fast, and strongly bound, what cause is there, why ye should fear? Of a man in this wise so sore whipped, and scourged, what would ye require more?
By this mayst thou understand (O my soul) in what a lamentable case our Savior was at his going out of the judgement hall, seeing that even the Judge himself verily believed, that the pitiful case in which he was, might have sufficed to mollify, and break the unmerciful cruel hearts of his enemies. Whereby thou mayst well perceive, what a dangerous, and unseemly thing it is for a Christian, not to have compassion of the most grievous, and bitter pains, and sorrows, of our savior: seeing they were so great, that they were able (as the Judge was persuaded) to mollify those most savage and cruel stony hearts of the Jews. Where love is, there is also sorrow. How can he then say, that he loveth our Savior Christ: that beholding him tormented in this most pitiful, and doleful plight, hath no compassion of him?
And if it be so wicked a thing not to have compassion of our Savior Christ, what a heinous matter is it to increase his pains, and martyrdoms, and to add thereunto sorrow upon sorrow? Surely there could not be any greater cruelty in all the world, than after that the Judge had shewed our Savior Christ unto them so pitifully berayed, for his enemies to answer with such cruel words: Crucifige: Crucifige: Crucify him: Crucify him: Now if this was so great a cruelty in the Jews, what a cruelty is that in a Christian, who in his deeds and works saith even as much as the Jews did, although he express it not in words. For doth not St. Paul say? That he that sinneth, crucifieth the son of God again. Forsomuch as touching his part, he doth a thing whereby he would bind him to die again, if his former death had not been sufficient. How is it then (O Christian) that thou hast thy heart, and hands, ready bent, to crucify our Lord and redeemer, so often times in this wise with thy sins? Thou oughtest to consider, that like as the Judge presented that so pitiful form to the Jews, supposing there was none other more effectual mean, to withdraw them from their fury, than that doleful sight: even so the heavenly father presenteth that same doleful sight daily unto all sinners: meaning thereby, that in very deed there is none other more effectual mean to withdraw them from sin, than to set before them this so pitiful a form. Make accompt therefore, that even now the heavenly father layeth also the same pitiful form of his most dear, and only begotten son before thy face, and that he saith unto thee: ECCE HOMO: Behold the man: As though he should say: Behold this man, in what a dolorous case he standeth, and remember withal, that he is God almighty, and that he standeth in this most doleful, and lamentable plight, as here thou seest him, not for any other cause, but for the very sins of the world. See into what plight God is brought by the sins of man. Consider, how necessary it was to satisfy for sin. And consider also, how abominable and horrible a thing sin is in the sight of almighty God: seeing it so disfigured his own only son to destroy it. Consider moreover, what a sore revenge almighty God will take of a sinner, for such sins as he himself committeth, sith he hath so sharply punished his own most dearly beloved and innocent son, for the sins of others. Last of all, consider the rigor of the justice of almighty God, and the foul staining malice of sin, which appeareth so dreadfully even in the very face of Christ the son of God. Now what thing could possibly be done of greater efficacy, both to cause men to fear God, and also to abhor sin?
It seemeth hereby, that almighty God hath shewed himself towards man, as a good loving mother is wont to do towards her wicked daughter, that seeketh leud means to play the harlot. For when neither words, nor punishment be able to dissuade her from her wicked devilish purpose, she turneth her rage against her own self, she beateth her own face, and teareth her hair, and when she is thus disfigured, she setteth herself before her daughter, that thereby she may understand the greatness of her offence, and that at the least for very pity, and compassion of her mother, she may be moved to leave her wicked purpose.
Now it seemeth that almighty God hath used the very same remedy here for the chastising of men, setting before them his own divine Image: to wit, the face of his own most dearly beloved son, so evil used, and disfigured: to the end, that whereas they had been so many times admonished and rebuked by the mouths of his Prophets, and yet would not forsake their wickedness, they might at the least be moved for very compassion to forsake the same, beholding that divine form of our Savior Christ in such pitiful wise disfigured for their sins. So that before he laid his hands upon men, but now he came to lay them upon himself: which truly was the last refuge that could be devised, to withdraw men from sin. And therefore as it hath been at all times accompted a very great wickedness to offend almighty God, so now after that he hath taken such a shape upon him to destroy sin, it is not only a great wickedness, but also a very great ingratitude and horrible cruelty to offend him with any deadly sin.
If thou wilt continue in the contemplation of this point, (besides that thou mayst learn hereby to abhor sin) thou mayst also take great courage to put thy whole trust and affiance in almighty God, by considering this very doleful form of our Savior Christ, the which as it is of great force to move the hearts of men, even so hath it no less force, but rather far greater, to move the heart of almighty God. And therefore thou must think, that what doleful form our Savior took at that time upon him, in the sight of the furious people, the very same he presenteth now before the divine eyes of his most pitiful and merciful loving father, so fresh, and in such bleeding wise, as it was that very same day. Now what image and form can there be of greater efficacy to pacify the eyes of the heavenly father, than the pale, and wane countenance (so pitifully disfigured) of his only begotten son. This is the golden propitiatory: This is the rainbow of divers colors, placed among the clouds of heaven, with the sight whereof almighty God is pacified. With this, were his eyes fed: With this, was his justice satisfied: Here was his honor restored: Here was such service done unto him, as was answerable, and seemly unto his divine majesty.
Tell me now then, O thou weak, and mistrustful man, if the shape, and form of our savior Christ was such at that time, that it was able, as the Judge verily believed, to mitigate the cruel eyes of such enemies, how much more able is it to pacify the eyes of the most merciful heavenly father? Especially considering that whatsoever our savior there suffered, was for his honor, and under his obedience. Compare then eyes, with eyes: person, with person: and thou shalt see, how much thou art more assured of the mercy of the heavenly father, by presenting unto him this doleful form of our Savior Christ, than Pilate was of the mercy of the Jews, when he shewed our Savior thus pitifully disfigured unto them. Wherefore, in all thy prayers, and temptations, take this Lord for thy shield, and buckler: set him between thee, and almighty God: and present him before his divine majesty, saying: ECCE HOMO: Behold the man: I have here (O Almighty God) the man, whom thou hast so many years sought for, to be a mean between thee, and sinners. I have here the man, whose justice is such, that it answereth thy goodness in every point. I have here the man who is so much punished, as our sins and offences required. Wherefore O most merciful loving Lord, look mercifully upon us, I most humbly beseech thee. And that thou mayst so do, fix thine eyes upon the face of thy Christ. And thou (O our sweet Savior, and mediator) cease not to present thyself before the eyes of thy father for us. And forsomuch as thy love towards us was so great, that thou wouldst offer up thy body to the tormentors to be tormented for our sakes: vouchsafe (O Lord) with the same love, to present it unto the heavenly father, beseeching him, that it may please him, for thy sake to pardon us all our sins, and offences.
HOW OUR SAVIOR CARRIED THE CROSS UPON HIS SHOULDERS
Now when Pilate saw that all those extreme punishments that had been so cruelly executed upon that most innocent lamb, were not able to assuage the fury of his enemies, he entered forthwith into the judgement hall, and sat him down in his tribunal seat, to give final sentence in that cause. The Cross was in the mean time prepared and made ready at the gate, and that dreadful banner was hoised up on high in the air, which threatened the terror of a most cruel death to our Savior. Now when that sentence was given, and published, although it was of itself both unjust, and cruel, yet did his enemies add an other further cruelty upon it: to wit, they laid upon those tender shoulders, that were so pitifully rent, and torn, with unmerciful whips, and scourges, the heavy tree of the cross. All which notwithstanding, our most merciful Lord, and Savior, refused not to carry that heavy burthen, (whereupon were laid all our sins,) but embraced the same with an unspeakable great charity, and obedience, for the very love he bare unto us. And so he went on his way as an other true Isaac, with the cross upon his shoulders, to the place of his sacrifice. The carriage was divided between two. The son carried the wood, and the body, that should be sacrified: and the father carried the fire, and the knife, wherewith the sacrifice should be made. For truly it was the fire of love, which he bare towards mankind, and the sharp knife of the divine justice, that put the son of God upon the cross. These two virtues contended together within the heavenly fathers breast, each one demanding his right. Love requested him to pardon mankind: and justice required that sinners might be punished. Wherefore, to the end that men might be pardoned, and sin punished, a mean was found, that an innocent (to wit the son of God) should die for all mankind. This was the fire, and knife, that the Patriarch Abraham carried in his hands, to sacrifice his son. For it was the love of our salvation, and the zeal of justice, that caused the heavenly father to offer his own most dearly beloved son to the cross.
Now goeth the sweet innocent Jesus forwards on his way, with that so heavy dolorous burthen upon his weak, and torn shoulders, great multitudes of people following after him, and many a pitiful and sorrowful woman accompanying him with grievous tears, and lamentations. What stony heart had been able to abstain from most bitter weeping, beholding the king of angels to go thus faintly, with such a great, and weighty burthen: his knees trembling under him: his body crouching under the cross: his modest eyes, and face, all bloody: with that dolorous garland of thorn upon his head: and besides all this, annoyed with those most shameful opprobrious exclamations, and outcries, which they gave out in the way against him?
But now in the mean time (O my soul) withdraw thine eyes a little while from this cruel sight, and hie thee with quick speed, with heaviness of heart, and great store of tears trickling down by thy cheeks, towards the house of the blessed virgin Mary. And when thou art come thither, cast thyself down at her feet, and speak these words in most doleful, and lamentable wise unto her. O Lady of angels, and Queen of heaven! O gate of paradise, and advocate of the world! O refuge of sinners, and health of the just! O joy of the Saints, and teacher of virtues! O mirror of cleanness! O pattern of patience, and example of all perfection! Woe is me (O blessed lady,) woe is me, why am I preserved alive, to see this present hour! How can I live, having now seen with mine eyes that doleful sight, which I have seen! What need more words? Alas dear virgin, and most blessed mother: I have left thy only begotten son, my sweet Lord and Savior in the cruel hands of his malicious enemies, with a cross upon his shoulders, whereupon he shall be crucified.
Now what understanding is able to comprehend how deeply these sorrowful news pierced the most tender heart of that most blessed virgin? Here her soul began to wax faint. Her face, and all the parts of her unspotted maidenly body were covered all over with a deadly sweat, which might have sufficed to end her life, saving that by divine dispensation, she was reserved for greater anguishes: and so consequently for a greater crown, and reward, in the kingdom of heaven.
Now the holy virgin walketh towards her sweet son and the great desire she hath to see him, restoreth unto her again the force, and strength, which sorrow, and grief, had taken away. She heareth afar of the clashing of armor, the troupes of the people, and those most shameful exclamations, and outcries which in most despiteful wise were thundered by his outrageous cruel enemies against him. And incontinently she seeth the glistering spears, and halberds, which were holden up a loft. She findeth in the way the drops and traces of blood, whereby she might easily trace him, which way he had gone, and she needeth none other guide to conduct her unto him. She approacheth nearer, and nearer, unto her dearly beloved son: She openeth her eyes, which were very sore dimmed with sorrowful weeping, to prove whether she might see him, whom her soul so exceedingly loved. O what a strange combat was there now of fear, and love, in the dolorous heart of the most blessed virgin Mary! In one respect she had a desire to see him, and in an other she was unwilling to see him thus miserably and most cruelly disfigured. At the length, when she was come where she might see him indeed, then those two lights of heaven, do behold one an other, and their hearts embrace sweetly together by means of their eyes. Howbeit the sight of one an other in this doleful wise was a very great corsie to both their afflicted souls. Their tongues were dumb, so that neither of them both for a while spake one word: but the natural affection of that most sweet son, spake privily to the heavy heart of the most blessed virgin, and said unto her. Why comest thou hither my dove, my beloved, and my dear mother? Thy sorrow increaseth mine, and thy torments do augment my pains, and be a great torment unto me. Depart my dear mother: depart I beseech thee, and return home again to thy house. For it is not seemly for thy virginal shamefastness, and purity, to be here in the company of murders, and thieves. And if it would please thee so to do, it would certainly assuage both thy sorrow, and mine. And I will remain here to be sacrificed for the world. For this office appertaineth not to thee, but unto me, and thy innocency deserveth not this torment. Return therefore my dove to the ark, until such time as the waters of the flood do cease: forsomuch as here thou shalt find no place, where thou mayst rest thy feet. There mayst thou attend to thy accustomed devout prayer, and contemplation. And there by lifting up thy soul in godly meditations above thyself, thou shalt pass over more easily this thy doleful sorrow and grief.
Now this being said, the sorrowful heavy heart of the holy mother made answer to her son, and said unto him. Why dost thou command me to do thus my dear son? Why wouldst thou have me to depart away from this place? Thou knowest (O my Lord God) that in thy presence each thing is lawful unto me, and that there is none other Oratory but where thou art. How can I then depart away from thee, unless I should depart from myself? This grief and sorrow so possesseth my heart, that truly I can not think upon any other thing. I can go no whither without thee, neither can I seek, or receive comfort of any other, but of thee. Upon thee is fixed all my whole heart. Within thee have I made my habitation. And my life wholly dependeth of thee. Seeing therefore thou hast vouchsafed for the space of nine months to inhabit within my bowels, and to take my body for thy dwelling place, why may not I for these three days take thy bowels for my habitation? If thou wilt thus receive me within thee, when thou art crucified, then shall I be crucified with thee: and when thou art buried, then shall I be buried also together with thee. With thee should I drink of the gall, and vinegar. With thee would I suffer upon the cross. And with thee would I yield up my ghost.
Such words as these spake the blessed virgin in her doleful heart as she went. And after this sort, she passed over that painful, and irksome way, until she came to the place of the Sacrifice.
OF PRAYER AND MEDITATION 