The Sacred Heart of Jesus

When I was a kid, I was pretty scared of the classic painting of the Sacred Heart that hung on the wall of my grandparent’s home.  You know how the eyes of people in some paintings seem to follow you wherever you go?  Well, I felt like that bleeding heart wrapped in the crown of thorns followed me.  That’s pretty unnerving when you are a little kid.

Fortunately my understanding of the Sacred Heart of Jesus has developed a little over time.  There are two scriptural images that are the biblical foundation for this devotion.  The first is the image of the beloved disciple resting his head on Jesus’ heart at the Last Supper.   It’s a wonderful icon of intimacy with Jesus, and tells us something vital about discipleship.  Following Jesus involves becoming his close companion.

Then there is the image of the blood and water flowing from Jesus’ heart after the soldier has pierced his side with the lance.  The symbolism here is raw and visceral.  The very life-force of Jesus is poured out for the world, for us.  Devotion to the Sacred Heart takes us to the very centre of the Redemption. He sheds his blood so that we might share in his life.

The meaning of these two scriptural images come together in an experience of St Margaret Mary Alacoque.  She was praying before the Blessed Sacrament one day when she experienced Jesus take her heart and place it in his own, burning heart.  He then returned her heart to her, only now hers was burning too.  To debate what actually happened to Margaret Mary is to miss the point, because her experience is really Christianity 101.  Our hearts are supposed to be set on fire by Jesus’ heart.  Filled with the burning love of God.

A few years ago I spent some time on retreat in the town of Paray-le-Monial, where St Margaret Mary Alacoque received her visions of the Sacred Heart.  I wrote the following poem as a result of the experience.

Paray- le- Monial

 “The disciple Jesus loved was reclining next to Jesus…”

 I wonder, do you pilgrim when you come,

exhale at the ordinariness of it all?

Pews, altar, ambo, tabernacle –

Solid if not stolid, and altogether unremarkable?

 

Do you wonder:

“will great graces be bestowed upon me here?”

for if not here then where, you

reason, little realising that grace does strike twice.

Are you awaiting wonders and signs in this

House of Apparitions

or do you nakedly seek the Christ

who did bear his heart here once?

 

Tell me, what manner of wonder

marks your passing pilgrim?

do you catch your breath, then inhale

the peace and power?

Have time and space whittled away to a needle-point

to this moment, at which a new unveiling is taking place?

Do you shudder, anticipation and agony

As truth runs you through

(unsparing honesty)

like a rapier-thrust of light

both unforgiving and merciful

(honest sparing)

Or are you blind to your apocalypse, my friend?

 

Do not fear, if all or part is hidden still,

Simply tell me this:

Can your heart keep time with his?

You need no other vision.

 

Posted on July 1, 2011, in Books and Poetry, Prayer and tagged , , , , . Bookmark the permalink. 1 Comment.

  1. LOL I know what you mean about the heart thing! For me though, not only was it bleeding and wrapped in thorns, but also on fire in some pics!!

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: