The Flames of the Heart of Jesus

THE FLAMES OF THE HEART OF JESUS.

First Symbol of His Love.

‘Ignem veni mittere in terram, et quid volo nisi ut accendatur?’

‘I am come to cast fire on the earth, and what will I but that it be kindled?’ (Luke xii. 49.)

IN contemplating a picture of the Sacred Heart of Jesus, that touching symbol of His infinite love, we are most struck with the flame by which, it is consumed and surrounded. The Heart cannot contain the flame which burns it and escapes from the wound; it plays round the cross, and passes through the thorns, though, as we have already observed, without touching them. The Heart is enveloped by this mysterious flame and penetrated by it—in a word, it is a burning Heart, an inflamed Heart. We must attentively observe the cross, the wound, and all those other attributes upon which we have already meditated.

This sacred fire which consumes the Heart of Jesus is love and zeal. These devouring flames must cause suffering, and we may apply the words of the Gospel to them, though not written in that sense: ‘I am tormented in this flame’ (Luke xvi. 24). He has but one wish—to communicate this fire, to see it spread through the whole earth, and at last gain our hearts: ‘I am come to cast fire on the earth, and what will I but that it be kindled?’

The two last days of the first Novena shall be consecrated to meditating upon so beautiful a subject. To-day the love of Jesus; to-morrow His zeal for souls.

The object of the devotion of the Sacred Heart, then, is love. Jesus Himself revealed this to His faithful spouse, the Blessed Margaret Mary: He complained of men’s ingratitude in not loving Him, asking and seeking to be known and loved. It is a new promulgation, and, as it were, a final and admirable interpretation of the first precept of the great law—thou shalt love; a law and precept at once glorious and humiliating for us; for whilst the Lord, in giving us this holy commandment, proves how much He values the affections of our hearts, He shows us at the same time how He distrusts us for our ingratitude and inconstancy. Alas, this great God is not mistaken; for, notwithstanding the formal precept of love and the anathema launched against those who would not love Him, there are still many souls seduced by the vanities of the world, many hearts consumed by other flames, and drawn away by another weight, as St. Augustine expresses it.

First, then, we will, in a few words, interpret the text of the law of love, and afterwards question our own hearts to ascertain if we truly love that God who has so loved us.

I. Let us commence by summing up in a few words the teaching of faith on this point, which is fully contained in the Act of Charity if well understood: ‘My God, I love Thee with my whole heart,’ &c.

In making this act you see plainly that God is the end or object of your affections, the motive or reason of your love being His infinite perfections; above all, His goodness and His benefits. The measure of this love is to be above all else, with all your heart and with all your strength; for, as St. Bernard says, ‘There can be no limit in loving God.’

So in all the acts of religion love is the greatest, the most necessary, the most essential and divine. Without this charity one is nothing; all would be useless, whilst a single act of love can justify the most guilty soul in the Lord’s eyes, who loves those who love Him. Charity not only purifies hearts, but enriches them with graces; it transforms the faithful soul, and closely unites it to God; for He really and substantially dwells in that soul as His own temple. It is one of the most certain results of love to transform a man into that which he loves. St. Augustine says, ‘If he loves earth, he is nothing more than earth; but if he loves God,—then what do I say ?—he is God!’

Who can describe the delights of those hearts filled with divine love? To understand this, one must have felt this consuming fire. St. Augustine says, ‘Give me a loving heart, and it will understand this.’ Ask some of those loving souls who have been consumed by these flames. One spark from the Heart of Jesus sufficed to consume them with ineffable delights and mysterious dolours; this fire of love, which burns not the cross or the thorns of the Heart of Jesus, could neither consume nor dry their tears. To love and to suffer was their life, their happiness, their martyrdom. Ask St. Teresa of Jesus, St. Madeleine of Pazzi, St. Francis Xavier, St. Stanislaus—they were consumed with love. Above all, ask our blessed and dear sister Margaret Mary what tears she shed in her sweetest transports, what happiness she felt in sufferings, what crosses also in the flames, what life in death! That simple and common expression, Heaven upon earth, is the only one which can truthfully express these apparent contradictions. These saints all could say with the prophet, ‘There came in my heart as a burning fire, and I was wearied, not being able to bear it’ (Jer. xx. 9). In my heart is a burning fire, and I die, for I can no longer support its sweet ardours.

If we now seek some motives to light up this flame of divine love in our own hearts, this subject would have no end; for we find these reasons in the infinite perfections of God, and in the benefits without number with which He has loaded us. Let it suffice to quote here these touching words from the inmost heart of those who have thus ardently loved; let us endeavour to comprehend their true meaning whilst we meditate upon them; and we shall in the end relish and realise them whilst humbly reciting them:

‘O Jesus, Jesus,’ exclaims St. Bernard, ‘tell me whom Thou art and all Thou hast done for us; how Thou hast been able to command us to love Thee! My sweet and most loving Jesus, so good to that soul who seeks, finds, and possesses Thee! Listen to me whilst I speak to Thy Heart. True it is I am but a poor sinner; yet Thy goodness encourages me to speak, Thy love prompts me, and Thy tenderness invites me. Thou hast said to Thine Apostles, and through them to us: “Abide in Me, and I in you.” I conjure Thee, O good Jesus, my beloved and most dear Jesus, to tell me the reason, the cause, of so much love, and why Thou commandest us to love Thee and to dwell in Thy love? Tell me, so that those who love Thee not may hear it and may begin to love Thee; that those who have begun to love Thee may be consumed by a greater love of Thee! When I think of all Thou hast done for me, and of what I have done for Thee, my heart is broken; I tremble, I am troubled, grief overwhelms me. Thy Cross tells me what Thou hast done, and how Thou hast died for me. Ah, this is why I trust in Thee, why I love and cherish Thee with my whole heart.’

We might transcribe whole pages of this sublime discourse, which concludes with these admirable words, that lead us to the second part of the meditation: ‘The love of Jesus,’ he says, ‘is full of sweetness and charms. The heart is not tormented by it, but filled with delights; it is not weakened, but fortified; this love makes it despise all earthly things, and long only for heaven. He delights only in the law of His God, and is always faithful in performing His sacred precepts,’ &c.

II. What could you reply to Jesus Christ, my dear reader, if this good Master said to you, as He did to His disciple, ‘Lovest thou Me?’ What could you answer Him? Examine yourself, question your own heart, and judge yourself. It will be necessary to pay attention to certain rules, by which the reply to this question will have to be decided.

When we love any one, we carefully avoid all that could trouble or grieve him; we eagerly and gladly do all in our power to give him pleasure; in a word, our sympathies and antipathies are mutual. Let us even speak, if possible, more simply. Those who love, delight to be together, they see one another with pleasure; their thoughts are made known to each other; one would gladly devote and sacrifice oneself, and even suffer for a friend. This is why Jesus, who has loved men so much, came down from heaven and chose to die upon a Cross. He loved infinitely.

Do you, then, love Him? You, who do not fear to wound and offend Him, even to put Him to death in your heart,—can you say that you love Him if you so often and so easily commit mortal sin, the cause of His death on the Cross?

And you, who with so little regret for the many venial sins you commit, can you say you love Him when you tear His Heart with the cruel thorns of His crown? You, who find it so tedious to be near Him, who visit Him so rarely, and who speak to Him only with a sort of aversion, or even know not what to say to Him, and have nothing to confide to Him in the secrecy of prayer,—can you say that you love Him? And you who cease not to grieve Him by your resistance to grace, to the most intimate solicitations of His tenderness; you who refuse Him the smallest sacrifices, who can never suffer anything by which you may prove to Him that you think of, and wish to please, Him,—could you say that you love Him? His Heart carries a cross, and yet you have a horror of the cross! It is crowned with thorns, and you fear the least trouble! It is wounded and bleeds, but you will not see or hear, or do anything that annoys, or displeases, or causes you loss! How could you say you loved Him? No; you love Him not; your heart, which has neither cross nor thorns, has no flames of love, and is not like the Heart of Jesus. You do not know yourself.

O, how few are the generous souls! How rare the hearts belonging only and wholly to God and to Jesus! How few there are who love Love itself ! Love is not loved. Jesus Christ gives us His Heart that we may make reparation for so much indifference and ingratitude; contemplate it, listen to those sweet words, upon which we should never cease to meditate, Behold this Heart, which has loved men so much; make a yet greater sacrifice to-day that you may console this Heart, and recite that perfect Act of Charity which is attributed to St. Francis Xavier:

‘My God, I love Thee, not because
I hope for heaven thereby,
Nor because they who love Thee not
Must burn eternally.
Thou, O my Jesus, Thou didst me
Upon the Cross embrace;
For me didst bear the nails and spear,
And manifold disgrace,
And griefs and torments numberless,
And sweat of agony,
E’en death itself—and all for one
Who was Thine enemy.
Then why, O blessed Jesus Christ,
Should I not love Thee well?
Not for the sake of winning heaven
Or of escaping hell;
Not with the hope of gaining aught,
Not seeking a reward,
But as Thyself hast loved me,
O ever-loving Lord.
E’en so I love Thee, and will love,
And in Thy praise will sing,
Solely because Thou art my God
And my eternal King.’