IX. Jesus Falls the Third Time

V. We adore Thee, O Christ, and we bless Thee.
R. Because by Thy holy Cross, Thou hast redeemed the world.

"Third time's the charm," as people say.  There is something significant in the number three: a powerful expression of finality.

When Christ fell the third time, how weak He must have been, how near unto the place of crucifixion and yet how far.  In His weakness He must have lain for a moment, trying to draw strength to rise, His will bent still toward our salvation, loving us with every moment of the immense torment He suffered as He lay against the rock-strewn ground.

Think of what the devil whispered into His ears.  For He was not left alone in that moment of weakness, but laid bare to all the snares of enemy.

What about your own falls?  It is when we are weakest that the devil likes to strike, for he cannot get us when we are wrapped about with the power and love of Christ.  It is only when we lie prone in our weakness and do not wish to go on that he can tempt us not to go on.  Then he can make us feel that all is hopeless, that we are powerless, and that we shall never rise from this darkness.

How much more must Christ have been tempted as He lay there.  Was it because He was God that He did not give in?

Rather it was love.  For only love can carry one through temptation.  Only love can make us so little heed our own darkness that we will to suffer it so long as God wills it.  Only love can raise us up when we have fallen.  Only love can give us hope in a brighter dawn.

And our Lord did not remain on the ground.  He struggled to His feet again, the cross still upon His shoulders.

Perhaps His entire human nature cried out that it was futile and that He would never have the strength to reach the place of crucifixion.  The enemy may have whispered of our infidelity, our lack of care for Him, our turning away and complete disdain for all that He was doing for us.  Yet He loved us still.  He went on because He wanted to show us that love in the most powerful way He could: by dying for us.  That death He had already begun, dying for us in each moment, and dying to the temptations that assailed even Him.

May He grant us the grace to rise from our hardest falls and to go on for love of Him.

Ah, my outraged Jesus, by the merits of the weakness Thou didst suffer in going to Calvary, give me strength sufficient to conquer all human respect, and all my wicked passions, which have led me to despise Thy friendship. I love Thee, Jesus my love, with my whole heart; I repent of having offended Thee. Never permit me to offend Thee again. Grant that I may love Thee always; and then do with me what Thou wilt. (From the Stations of the Cross according to Saint Alphonsus Liguori.)

III. Jesus Falls the First Time

V. We adore Thee, O Christ, and we bless Thee.

R. Because by Thy holy Cross, Thou hast redeemed the world.

We have such a fear of falling—a fear of failure.  We do anything we can to avoid admitting our own brokenness, our own inadequacy.

Do you think Christ thought of that as He fell beneath the weight of the cross?

Imagine Him, fallen on one knee, barely keeping from pitching head-first upon the ground, and then imagine Him turning to look at you, as if to say: "See, I have fallen.  I will get up and go on for love of you.  Will you get up and go on for love of Me?"

When we fall, we do not want to get up.  We want to remain where we lie.  After all, if we do not rise we cannot fall again.  If we are failures, we need not fear failing.

Yet we must strip aside those lies.  We must stand up again from each fall no matter if we know that we shall fall again.

He knew that He would fall again.  He knew how painful those falls would be.  At least we are spared that knowledge.  We do not know when or how we will fail.  We do know, however, that we weak mortal creatures will fall as surely as did our Lord beneath the weight of our sins.

If He could get up and go on, so can we because He told us to follow Him.  He would not have said it were it not possible.  Therefore, even from the depths of our failures and inadequacies causing us to muck about in the mire, we can stand again, muddy and bloodstained perhaps, but with eyes flaming with the fire of love.

Only love will carry us up and onward.  Only love will bring us face to face with Him.

My beloved Jesus, it is not the weight of the Cross, but my sins, which have made Thee suffer so much pain. Ah, by the merits of this first fall, deliver me from the misfortune of falling into mortal sin. I love Thee, O my Jesus, with my whole heart; I repent of having offended Thee. Never permit me to separate myself from Thee again. Grant that I may love Thee always; and then do with me what Thou wilt. (From the Stations of the Cross according to Saint Alphonsus Liguori.)

Santa Chiara, prega per noi!

Since I am staying tonight at a convent of Franciscan sisters in the guest apartment in a room named after Saint Clare, it seemed fitting to reflect on some of her words.  These were the ones God provided:

"We become what we love and who we love shapes what we become.  If we love things, we become a thing.  If we love nothing, we become nothing.  Imitation is not a literal mimicking of Christ, rather it means becoming the image of the beloved, an image disclosed through transformation.  This means we are to become vessels of God's compassionate love for others."

All I can think of tonight is how impossible her words seem—how impossible it seems to ever become a vessel of God's love for others.  For always the time comes when the forces of daily life grind us down and the enemy's subtle whispers drag us into the depths of our own murky pond.  In those moments any good seems impossible.

Exhaustion is bound to come upon us all sooner or later.  Frustration, failure, and regret for the past will have their way also.

Yet despite all these things, we still can become that image of Christ, not by our own power, but by His.  No matter our weakness, no matter our sinfulness, if only we turn to Him in humility, He will raise us up from the dust.