In the wonderful little spiritual gem In Love with the Divine Outcast, there appears this story. It seems that in a certain church in Spain there is an ancient crucifix held in deep reverence, for, strange to say, the right arm of the figure of Christ is unnailed and hangs down. Legend has it that a great sinner one day confessed his sins beneath the crucifix with every mark of firm resolve and sincere contrition.
The priest hesitated before granting the absolution because the poor man's sins were so heinous and so numerous. The delay distressed the sinner and he implored pardon. “I will absolve you,” said the priest, “but do not fall again.” The sinner promised, was absolved, and went away. He remained faithful for a long time to his promise, but at last he was weak and fell again.
Once again he appeared before the same priest and under the same crucifix, but the confessor said: “I cannot absolve you this time.” But the penitent pleaded: “I repent, I was sincere when I promised the last time but the temptations were great and I am weak.” Convinced that all the conditions for a good confession were present, the confessor absolved him, but added: “This is the last time.”
A long time elapsed and then, through habit on one hand, and weakness on the other, the poor man fell again into sin. Presenting himself to the confessor who had absolved him on the two previous occasions, the priest said: “This time it is useless; your repentance is not sincere.” In spite of the pleadings of the poor sinner and his promises of amendment, the priest said: “I cannot absolve you at this time.”
At that instant sobs were heard, coming not from the sinner, but from the crucifix. The hand of the figure of Christ detached itself from the cross, and indicated, by tracing the Sign of the Cross, that the man was to be absolved, while a voice said to the priest: “You did not shed your blood for him as I did.”
It would be easier for me to reach out and grab a rainbow and try to condense its colors; it would be easier to count every single grain of sand on the seashores of the world; yes, it would be easier to climb Mount Everest and count every single snowflake on its windswept summit than to measure for you the extent of God's mercy for sinners.
“For the Son of Man is come to seek and save that which was lost” (Luke 19:10). To me, this is the most wonderful verse in the whole Bible. In this one sentence we are told why Christ came into the world...He came not to condemn but to save.
Charles Hugo Doyle, Go In Peace, Hanover House, Garden City, NY, 1961, pp. 101-102, 103.
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2 comments:
How beautiful this is, Paddy! This is one of the lessons that Our Lord has taught me this Easter: namely, that His Mercy is one of His greatest gifts to us, and that He allowed His Heart to be pierced so that a tidal w2ave of Mercy would flow out for us. Thank you for this reminder.
You have been given a great grace this Easter, Kindred. I recall reading that what hurts Our Lord almost more than our sins is when we do not have confidence in His mercy after we have sinned. How many proofs of that mercy has He given us in the Gospels and especially the Parables. He is so good!!
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