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.)

Speak, Lord, Your Servant Is Listening

Thus said Samuel according the advice of the priest Eli: "Speak, Lord, Your servant is listening."

It is such a simple and powerful prayer.  It is also a prayer of vulnerability.

We mortal creatures don't like vulnerability.  We flee it like the proverbial plague.  Of course we say we want to hear the voice of the Lord, but we rarely allow ourselves to wait in silence and darkness to truly hear what He might say.

The story of Samuel has great comic potential.  It follows the formula for a comedic routine: he hears someone calling his name and immediately hops up to go ask Eli why he called him, but Eli tells him he must be imagining it and sends him back to bed.  The same exact thing happens the second time.  There you have your context set up.  The third time when it happens, it starts out the same way, but all of a sudden Eli realizes that God is calling Samuel.  If it weren't such a serious matter (and we hadn't heard the story a few too many times), we would laugh uproariously at this sudden upturning of our expectations.

It is easy to laugh at Samuel for not knowing that God was calling him because of course it is obvious to us.  Somehow, though, it doesn't seem that obvious in our everyday lives.

Perhaps we don't follow the Rule of Three in our lives, but I daresay there is enough material for humor there nonetheless.  We say we want to hear God's voice and so we start telling Him everything we need Him to do for us and how He ought to answer us and what our requirements and needs are and so on.  Then, before we have bothered to so much as ask Him what He thinks of all that, we hurry on to our duties and responsibilities and get all weighed down by what He isn't making clear for us.

Do you see the comic potential?