Christ in the Most Blessed
Sacrament of the Altar ...
You have found me ...
so very, very, long I have awaited this moment! Since first I formed
you in your mother's womb, in unutterable love, I have awaited this
moment ... and it is come.
Let us now speak,
face to face ... no, no, child, do not cast down your eyes, but lift
them up. See: I hold your face even as you speak; let me look upon your
eyes, as ever a father looks lovingly into the eyes of his child. You
are mine; even more than you are his.
Let us remember
At every Mass
I had sought you. I peered past the faces of my many beloved children,
and I looked for you, looked upon you – and after every Mass I invited
you, called to you, but you did not hear me. You did not hear me because
you did not see me.
You knew I was
here, but you had forgotten.
Not in vain did
they hide me so far – sometimes even completely hidden from – the Altar
of my Sacrifice, as though the Lamb could be separated from his own
You did not gaze
upon me because you did not see me. My Altar has become barren of my
Agony ... it is become a table, a refectory for many, and no longer
the Altar of the Sacrifice of the One.
I must ask you,
my child, did you ever see me laid upon that Altar?
Did ever you see my bruised, battered, and broken body laying
across, upon, that hallowed height? Did you ever see me, before
your very eyes, lifted upon the Cross before you as my Priest
held me up to the Father in the Holy Eucharist?
Did you ever recognize
that what was being enacted before you in the Most Holy Sacrifice
of the Mass is the very same Sacrifice which I offered up to
my Father on Calvary? Not a different one. Not a symbolic one. But the
same Sacrifice enacted before your very eyes. Did
you know that what separates you from my Holy Mother at the foot of
the Cross ... is the closing of your eyes ... even as she closed hers
– and I was, I am, present to you both. You were not at Calvary.
You are at Calvary ... at the Most Holy Sacrifice of the Mass!
You have forgotten
so much, my little one, or more often still – and this is so painful
to me – there is so much that you had never been taught.
Tell Me ...
We are talking ... at long last in My
... so let me ask of you one question, my child. It is really a question
I should like you to ask yourself. Tell me:
you behave any differently
were you to see me visibly; were you to behold me physically
standing before you, the wounds still in my hands and my feet, still
in my side? Were I to appear thus to you ... would you behave any differently
toward me than you do in acknowledging my Presence – Body, Blood, Soul,
and Divinity – in the Eucharist, in the Most Holy Sacrament of the Altar,
in the Tabernacle, at the Most Holy Sacrifice of the Mass? Think well
before you answer, little one, for much depends upon how you answer
behavior would be any different, if your reverence would be greater,
your love more fervid ... oh, little one, you are then lacking so much
in faith; and what is more grievous still,
your behavior does not accord with your belief:
you aver, profess to hold to, one thing ... and behave
as if you do not believe what you profess at all ...
It may sting you,
my child, and it so pains me to tell you, but this grievous disparity
between what you profess to believe, and how you actually behave is
either the deadly sin of pride or the shameful sin of hypocrisy.
Either you pretend to believe what you really do not
believe, or you do believe but are too proud before
the world, before the eyes of men, to humble yourself in my Real Presence.
Were I visible to their eyes, you would not hesitate; but because
I am not, that act of Faith that conquers Pride defers to the world
of men. You have Faith, my child, but you have no courage. Instead of
ignoring men ... you ignore your God. And think, my child
... is that not the essence of sin?
“How so?”, you
ask, “and in what ways?”
and think of the many, many times you have passed by me in the Tabernacle
– how lovingly I have watched you approach, thrilled at your
coming, ... and how sadly I have watched you pass me by with not so
much as a silent greeting, a genuflection or even a bow. You have passed
by me as by a column in the Church, which is unknowing of you, heedless
of you, without love for you. Quickly, thoughtlessly, and most often
attentive to your neighbor whom you would not dare to affront by ignoring
or disregarding their presence. Surely you would not pass by even a
casual acquaintance, let alone a loved friend, without so much as a
word, a gesture – and yet you seem to fear, as it were, scandal, by
Do you not
know by now that to be one of mine is to be
a scandal to the world, a contradiction to it?
You shrink from
the epithets they will hurl at you, even as they hurled still greater
ones at me. Do you think I do not know of them?
how pious he makes himself appear to be!”
at her, ever holier than thou.”
should be humiliated by these acts of piety!”
is doing it for the praise of many, to be thought holy
in the sight of men. What a hypocrite!”
does she think she is ... a saint? Pretending to be one! ...
You know they
will avoid you, marginalize you, accuse you of subtle evil ... and
most often they will think you ill of mind; you will be shunned,
and even hated ... and so often, to my unspeakable sorrow, by the very
people held to the holy: by your priests, your deacons, your nuns –
you will be a scandal to them because you will cause them to accuse
You will be a
reproach to them, and they will hate you for it. But take heart. Did
I not tell you that if the world hates you, know that it hated me
first? You wish to share in my glory. But will you share in my
shame? You will be glorified with me; but will you also be humiliated
with me? For your sake I bore humiliation. For my
sake will you bear it also? Is the servant greater than the Master?
I hear you sing that I, the Lord of Heaven and Earth, am “the center
of your life”, and at once behold the breathless celerity with which
you leave my church, a haste that will not allow a reverent genuflection
before me, an unspoken word of love to me ... Who has fed you with the
Bread of Angels, and Who ever beholds you ... and sustains you
in my love. I am puzzled, my child; but more than puzzled, I am greatly
The Empty Vestibule
not be discouraged, little one,
by what I tell you. Ever and always I speak to you in the gentlest love,
and yet, my child, I must ask you now to consider more. We are Heart
to heart, are we not? And Voice to voice? Even Ear to ear? Listen to
me, my child: Had I chosen to remain with you in my true Body,
Blood, Soul, and Divinity ... that is to say, in my total being,
as your Lord, your Redeemer, and your God – had I chosen but
one place to abide, – let us say with my servant
Peter in Rome – and in no other Church except St. Peter's, how many,
many pilgrimages would be made, and at what great cost and sacrifice
to the faithful, to be truly in my Real Presence,
where I may be found as in no other place on earth! No expense would
be spared, no suffering not gratefully endured, no hardship happily
undertaken ... as long as the journey brought them to Me!
With what reverence,
love, and devotion would they accord themselves before me! Having enjoyed
this but even once in a lifetime would suffice to make for a happy death.
Each would say, in utter consolation,
have knelt before my God, I have been in His Presence, I have offered
him my love — and what is more .... what is infinitely more ... He gave
himself to me! He gave me, fed
me, placed upon my tongue, His very Body, His very Blood, His very Soul,
His very Divinity! He
Himself! All this ... all this ... He deigned to give me, an
unprofitable servant in the mid-day sun! I have received ... Communion
with God. I have become one with Him and He with me. I have partaken
of the Bread of Angels. I have received the pledge of life eternal:
“Who eats My flesh and drinks My blood
has life eternal, and I will raise him up on the last day.”
Truly ... truly, what possible return could I
make to my God for so unspeakable a gift! His very Self! Is this not
the Gift given the blessed in Heaven?”
“But I see that
you are eager to speak. Come, then, let us whisper. Now I will
be silent. It is your turn, little one .... speak.”
Song of the Servant
Totally Faithful to the Sacred
Deposit of Faith entrusted to the Holy See in Rome
opera tua ... quia modicum habes virtutem, et servasti verbum
Meum, nec non negasti Nomen Meum”
know your works ... that you have but little power, and
yet you have kept My word, and have not denied My Name.”
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