The Solemnity of the Most Sacred Heart of Jesus

I find it interesting that during the course of the year we only have one feast that celebrates a particular body part of Christ. We do not have a feast of the Sacred Fist of Jesus, to celebrate his power or justice. We do not have a feast of the Sacred Brain of Jesus, to celebrate his intellect or his wisdom or the fact that he knows everything. No, the feast of the Sacred Heart is unique, and it tells us a lot about God and how he wants to be perceived in our relationship with him. 

Jesus had a tender heart, not a hard heart. We catch glimpses of it in many scriptural passages. In Matthew 9 we read, “At the sight of the crowds, his heart was moved with pity. They were lying prostrate from exhaustion, like sheep without a shepherd” (36).

In Matthew 11 Jesus says, “Take my yoke upon your shoulders and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble of heart” (29).

To the good thief on the cross Jesus promised, “I assure you: this day you will be with me in paradise” (Lk 23:43). His many sins were wiped away in an instant. 

Jesus reflects the whole Trinity. The Three Persons are inseparable. What we say of one applies to all. So, any revelation about Jesus is a revelation about God as a whole. God purposely chose the Heart of Jesus to be the dominant symbol of his essence in his relation to us. In the First Epistle of John we read, “God is love” (4:8). The Sacred Heart of Jesus sums up God’s love and mercy toward us. 

God’s tender love and mercy is not something just in the New Testament. We pray every week in Psalm 103:

He does not treat us according to our sins

nor repay us according to our faults.

For as the heavens are high above the earth

so strong is his love for those who fear him.

As far as the east is from the west

so far does he remove our sins.

As a father has compassion on his sons,

the Lord has pity on those who fear him;

For he knows of what we are made,

he remembers that we are dust. (10-14)

But if his love for us is real and is that deep, then he is necessarily going to make himself vulnerable. It means that it is going to break his heart when his infinite love is rejected or ignored or tossed aside for something else so, so trivial. Time after time, down through the centuries, down through the millenia, human beings have wandered away from the great love that he was offering them. How could that NOT hurt him, to have his free, unconditional love left unrequited. It is represented in Jesus’ Heart when he wept over Jerusalem (Lk 19:41). In Matthew we hear his lament, “O Jerusalem, Jerusalem, murderess of prophets and stoner of those who were sent to you! How often have I yearned to gather your children, as a mother bird gathers her young under her wings, but you refused me” (23:37). 

There have been Saints and mystics and ordinary, simple souls who have been hit by this realization who have wanted to spend the rest of their lives making reparation for God’s rejected love and have tried their best to give God’s love the return that it deserves. It might sound sappy to some, but they have wanted to console the Heart of Jesus and the Heart of God for his beloved ones who didn’t realize just how much they were cherished. 

Philosophers will say God is impassible, meaning he can’t suffer or feel pain. And from one angle I’m sure that’s true. God is so far above and beyond us that what might seem like a paradox to us isn’t on his level. He can be both hurt and not hurt by unrequited love. He can be infinitely just, and at the same time infinitely merciful.

The term “Fear of the Lord” shows up a lot in the Bible, especially in the Old Testament. It means not an unhealthy fear of the Lord, but something more like reverence and awe. Perhaps our society could use a little more of it these days. I think our attitude toward God is a little too nonchalant. Maybe that’s why the Latin Mass is appealing to so many. I hear lots of young families are flocking to it. 

But an unhealthy “Fear of the Lord” is balanced by an emphasis on God’s mercy. God’s justice and mercy have to be kept in a proper tension. We can’t expect there to be no consequences for the poor choices we make, but at the same time we don’t want to be cowering when we come into the presence of God and riddled with “Catholic guilt.” What a beautiful message of trust and hope in his mercy he has given us through St. Faustina and the Divine Mercy devotion. Reading any of his words to her will certainly fill us with confidence and peace of soul. 

The Church, in her liturgy, has a real treasure chest of prayers that have developed over the years. By way of conclusion, let us listen to one of the prayers for this feast:

“O God, who in the Heart of your Son, wounded by our sins, bestow on us in mercy the boundless treasures of your love, grant, we pray, that, in paying him the homage of our devotion, we may also offer worthy reparation.”