THE LIGHT SHINES IN THE DARKNESS AND THE DARKNESS DID NOT OVERCOME IT

Sacred Heart,
Burning in the darkness,
Enflame my heart
With your light and life.

TODAY we are reminded that we have left the European Union.  Some will wave flags; others lament that the vison Sir Winston Churchill had of a ‘United States of Europe’ is, for the time being, dead and buried.  It’s worth reading what he actually said in a famous speech at the University of Zurich three days before I was born – here is an extract (the full speech is here): 

“We must build a kind of United States of Europe (in order) to re-create the European family, or as much of it as we can, and to provide it with a structure under which it can dwell in peace, in safety and in freedom. …  Small nations will count as much as large ones and gain their honour by a contribution to the common cause.”

That enlightened call to build a union of hope hope after years of war and centuries of conflict has fallen away and, coupled with the pandemic, it can seem that there’s a shadow over not only Europe at this time but over the whole world.  Words of hope can feel just like that when faced with suffering and loss.

But I’m reminded of other words, words from John’s gospel set for today’s Mass: ‘The Light shines in the darkness and the darkness did not overcome it’.  In the opening verses of his ‘Good News’, John directs attention to the most important news Christianity needs to share, and he does so in the context of a desert, a desert in which John the Baptist appeared which can stand as a metaphor for what many are experiencing at this time.

In a recent article by Fr. Aiden Nicholls OP which appeared in the present issue of the ‘Fairacres Chronicle’, journal of the Sisters of the Love of God, he writes: 

‘A voice cries in the Wilderness, “Prepare a way for the Lord: make his paths straight”.  John the Baptist realises this prophesy by speaking of Jesus: … John can identify the desert of the human condition, can put his finger on the spot where it really hurts, Jesus and Jesus alone can do anything about it.  John knows what we are like: he knows the heart of man; Jesus does too, he had his own wilderness experience; but Jesus is also the heart of God translated into human flesh.  He is not just a human heart he is the Sacred Heart.  And if he is God made man, then he is someone who can reach into our interior desert; by his influence, by his grace, he can reach me in this most cut off of all lands, more cut off than any pole or any jungle’ (p.31).

As we enter a New Year outside of that Union to which we’ve belonged for half a century and continue to face a pandemic that poisons both body and soul that message of John, that the Light has come which darkness cannot overcome, is unique and needs to be held and shared – for in Him there is no darkness at all. 

Sacred Heart,
Burning in the darkness,
Enflame my heart
With your light and life.

_____________________

John-Francis Friendship
December 31st, 2021

SACRED HEART TALK 2020: Priests of the Sacred Heart (3)

Hello and welcome to the third and last of these talks concerning the Sacred Heart in which I want to consider how we’re called to be Priests of the Sacred Heart.

One of the important purposes of the priesthood, of course, is to share with others something of the love of God – to help them consider that Love and to grow in their free gift of themselves to that Love, and to do that we need to be growing in that love.  In his gospel St. John records, of course, that triple question Jesus asked Peter: “Do you love me – love me more than these?”  (Jn. 21:15).  He wasn’t speaking of sentimental love, but agape love, love which is costly. He wanted to get Peter to consider in depth – in the depths of his heart – that love which the image of the Sacred Heart reveals.  It’s this love which needs to animate the vocation of every priest and we need to hear Jesus saying to us: “Do you love me – more than these?”  It’s the question that needs to refresh our vocation and to which we need to constantly return.

It’s the question reflected in the image of the Sacred Heart and is one of the reasons why it can be of great benefit to everyone, not least to priest.  We all know the importance of images – how they can speak more powerfully than words – and, as we know, the image of the heart speaks across religions, cultures and ages.  Whether on a heart on a Valentine’s card or one made with our hands, it has a warm sentimental feel; which is the difference between those romantic hearts and the Sacred Heart.  For the Sacred Heart portrays the cost of Jesus’ love shown in the way this Heart is illustrated with symbols of the Passion, so let’s consider them for they reveal the depths of Christ’ love, a love which is of far greater importance than the fuzzy glow that can come with a Valentine.

THE BLOOD-FILLED HEART

Firstly, it is a heart pumping with blood, the one organ which enables the whole body to live.  Unseen, but not unheard, it works away 24/7 for the whole of our time on earth – we could manage without many of our body parts, but not without our heart and it’s that unseen beat of the heart which needs to animate our vocation.

THE PIERCED HEART

Then there’s that matter of the blood with is shown, dripping from a wound. That makes it clear how the Heart of Jesus, like that of His Mother, was pierced; hers by a sword, his by a lance – the holy lance of the soldier, St. Longinus – as he hung on the Cross.  The lance pierced through His side into His Heart, into what this drawing by St. Margaret Mary made clear was a reservoir of caritas, love, from which flowed blood and water, the water of Baptism and the blood of the Eucharist, Sacraments of the Love of God.  In the past the Holy Blood was revered for the way it was that ‘ocean of love’ which could cleanse and renew our own –

Wash thou my wounds in that dear Blood
Which forth from thee doth flow,
New grace, new hope inspire, a new
And better heart bestow.

As Jesus said about the German mystic, St. Gertrude: ‘The proximity of her heart to the wound in my side means that I have so joined her heart to mine that she is able to receive, directly and at all times, the flow of my divinity.’  So we’re also to be priests of the wounded Christ, realising that the wounds of those with whom we minister are reflected in the Wounded Heart of Jesus.

THE CROWNED HEART

To underline the connection between the Sacred Heart and the Passion of Christ, the Heart is encircled by the Crown of Thorns.  Firstly, that reminds us how it wasn’t just His body which reveals the cost of love, His mind also paid the price.  But just as the Holy Lance which pierced the side of Jesus symbolises those ‘darts of longing love’ which gain us entry into Christ’s heart, so we can meditate on the way this Crown of love pierces him.

THE CROSS-CROWNED HEART

‘Let the same mind be in you that was in Christ Jesus, who, though he was in the form of God, did not regard equality with God as something to be exploited, but emptied himself, taking the form of a slave, being born in human likeness’ (Phi. 2:1f).  It also reminds us that, whilst we may not find ourselves having to physically suffer for our faith, there will be many times when we’re pierced and humbled and all we can do is hold on to our consecration as priests of the Sacred Heart.  No wonder, then, that the Heart is surmounted by the Cross.  Or, perhaps we might consider how the Cross rests on the Sacred Heart reminding us that when we gaze on it, we must always contemplate it as the sign of God’s love.  Priestly ministry will always be under this sign of our Master and reminding us that we should never be surprised that we’re called to suffer with Him.  St. Teresa of Avila said: ‘the important thing is not to think much but to love much and do that which stirs us to love.’  How often do we place our mind in our heart?  Where is the centre of our being – in the head or the heart?

THE FLAMING HEART

Again, that consideration is informed by the way the Cross is enflamed – the fire of God’s love by which so many have said we must be consumed.  ‘May the power of your love’, prayed St. Francis of Assisi, ‘fiery and sweet as honey, so absorb our hearts as to withdraw them from all that is under heaven.  Grant that we may be ready to die for love of your love, as you died for love of our love.’  That prayer should take us back to that triple question posed to St. Peter, a prayer which might be one every priest should pray daily.   The Sacred Heart is a warm, glowing heart, radiating compassionate love; a hurt, open heart which is the gate of heaven and needs to inform our priesthood.

THE NON-DUALISTIC HEART

But there’s an aspect of some Sacred Heart imagery many find off-putting – the way they show Jesus in an androgynous way – he seems partly male and partly female, certainly not a man’s man!   There’s a femininity about many images which can be challenging, but which fits with the classic symbolism of the heart as feminine and the mind as masculine; the softness and approachability of Jesus in such images is revealed by artists who, perhaps unconsciously, knew the Sacred Heart was meant to open us to the feminine in the divine and is meant to answer the false dualism pictures can inevitably portray.   For we know that in Christ there is neither male nor female, we are all one in Him (Gal. 3:28), something we need to realise in ourselves.   Our priesthood needs to incarnate both the feminine and masculine in God.

THE COSMIC HEART

Finally, I want to acknowledge that the Sacred Heart is not only a universal symbol, it’s also a symbol of the universe. ‘We know’, wrote St. Paul, ‘that the whole creation has been groaning in labour pains until now’ (Roms. 8:22) and can rightly believe that, at the heart of the universe is the Heart of Christ, the Creator.  Within the Cosmic Christ is a cosmic intimacy; the Creator we proclaim isn’t some majestic deus ex machina, but a power of Love, a love whose nature is constantly creative.  The universe is like a woman struggling in giving birth to an infant conceived in love. 

One of the reasons why devotion to the Sacred Heart is so important is that it declares that we were made in that image and if you want to understand what this human-being is all about, look at the Sacred Heart.  As Teilhard de Chardin wrote in The Heart of the Matter, this devotion gave him a sense of the ‘solidity of Christ … the immersion of the divine in the corporeal … a glowing core of fire … able to insinuate itself everywhere … to make love of the cosmic milieu.’  Such a realisation lies behind eucharistic living, living with a constant realisation of the loving, compassionate presence of God in all things.  As priests, we are not only those who preside at the sacraments, we need to enable others to live sacramentally as we deepen our own awareness of God’s loving presence in all things.

CONCLUSION

So as we come to the end of this meditation, let’s keep a few minutes of silence at the end of which I’ll read a reflection by the late Mother Osyth of Malling Abbey.

(Silence)

Wind, fire and flame

   the outward sign 

   but in the heart

   breath of the spirit

        love and light

   heavenly dew

of sanctifying grace

   God’s very presence hallowing the place

   restoring to his image

        the souls face

SACRED HEART TALK 2020: A Heart that Mirrors God (1)

Welcome to the first of three, short reflections concerning the Sacred Heart.

I’d like to begin by recalling why the Sacred Heart of Jesus – and when I speak of the Heart of Christ, I also infer the Heart of Mary for the two Hearts are as one – why it’s of such importance by sharing some words by the Orthodox theologian, Archbishop. Kalistos Ware:

‘The heart, it has been said, is the primary organ of our being, the point of convergence between mind and matter, the centre alike of our physical constitution and our psychic and spiritual structure.  Since the heart has this twofold aspect, at once visible and invisible, prayer of the heart is prayer of body as well as soul: only if it includes the body can it be truly prayer of the whole person. A human being, in the biblical view, is a psychosomatic totality — not a soul imprisoned in a body and seeking to escape, but an integral unity of the two. The body is not just an obstacle to be overcome, a lump of matter to be ignored, but it has a positive part to play in the spiritual life and it is endowed with energies that can be harnessed for the work of prayer.’

Recently, I came across a small book called, ‘The Sacred Heart of the World’, written by David Richo and published in 2007.  Two years before, he writes, he had received the graces needed to vow to make a contribution to devotion to the Sacred Heart: this book is the consequence.  In reading it I’ve realised I’d found the book I would like to have written!  David is a psychotherapist, mindfulness teacher and retreat leader in California and his book does what it says on the cover – restores mystical devotion to our spiritual life – so I’d like to use these four sessions to share some of his insights. 

He begins by inviting us to consider the universal context in which the Sacred Heart needs to be set.  Right at the beginning he writes: (p.2): …  This clearly reveals the way the Sacred Heart isn’t just a rather saccharine, individualistic devotion, but concerns the essence of our humanity.  (p.3) … It also reveals, of course, that the nature of God is love: (p.6, 7, 9)

It was inside us because God breathed his Spirit into Adams nostrils – the heart of God is a Trinity of Love which flows out and enfolds all things: O then, let my heart awake to your breath within me!  There, where mind sinks into the depths of God, there are rivers of love flowing from the Heart!  ‘In Sufi tradition’, writes Richo, ‘The heart is eternity, light, and divinity.  It is the centre of consciousness and the vehicle by which God sees us.  God breathing life into Adam means that a heart was given to him.’ (p.14)  Later, in sharing some words of Jung, he says that ‘The heart mirrors the psyche itself, which includes both our personal experience and the heritage of wisdom of the entire human collective that keeps stirring in all of us.’ (p.16)

Finally, he writes of the way that the Sacred Heart is a universal symbol which is in everybody's soul.  Yet it’s not only a symbol, a word meaning password in Greek, it’s also a passport to participation in what it signifies.  The sacramental nature of the Sacred Heart contains the power to awaken spiritual truths in us and to give us an appetite for it.  The Heart of Jesus is indeed the centre of the mystical body of humanity and the universe. 

To end this session, I’ll share words from a Sioux Indian which he quotes; ‘the heart is a sanctuary at the centre of which is a little space wherein the Great Spirit abides.’  Hearing them, I was immediately remined of something Thomas Merton wrote in Conjectures of a Guilty Bystander’:

‘At the centre of our being is a point of nothingness which is untouched by sin and by illusion, a point of truth, a point or spark which belongs entirely to God, which is never at our disposal, from which God disposes our lives, which is inaccessible to the fantasies of our own mind or the brutalities of our own will.  This little point of nothingness and of absolute poverty is the pure glory of God in us.  It is, so to speak, His name written in us…  It is like a pure diamond, blazing with the invisible light of heaven.  It is in everybody, and if we could see it we would see those billions of points of light coming together in the face and blaze of a sun that would make all the darkness and cruelty of life vanish completely.  I have no program for this seeing; is it only given.  But the Gate of Heaven is everywhere.’ 

SACRED HEART TALK 2020: The Heart of the Sacrament (2)

Welcome to this second talk exploring aspects of devotion to the Sacred Heart which are being given in June, the month traditionally concerned with this devotion. 

As I mentioned in the first talk, the Sacred Heart isn’t a devotion with which many Anglican’s are familiar, even though it was beginning to influence the church in Britain – and throughout Europe – long before the Reformation.  For example, St. Anselm, the 11^th cent Archbishop of Canterbury, wrote ‘The opening of the side of Christ reveals the riches of his love, the love of his heart for us’.  And Dame Julian of Norwich in the 15th century wrote in Ch. 24 of 'Revelations of Divine Love:' ‘Then our Lord looked into his side and rejoiced.  By this sweet look he had me gaze within his wound; he showed me a fair, delectable place, large enough for all humanity that should be saved to rest in peace and love.  And therewith he had me recall his dear, worthy blood and precious water, which he did pour out for love, and he showed me his blissful heart.’ 

But this wonderful river of affective devotion, devotion concerns the stirring of our emotions to help deepen our desire for God, was blocked at the Reformation and didn’t re-emerge until John Wesley began to speak from a heart warmed by Christ.  Later, at the end of the 19^th century, a few men came together to form the Society of Divine Compassion – another way of referring to the Sacred Heart.  It’s clear from the writings of one of them, Fr. Andrew, that he had a deep devotion to the Heart of Jesus  which we hear in his poem, Sacre Coeur:

Dear Heart, Who in Thy tender love didst come

Not from some cavernous and vast womb

Of cold and passionless eternity,

But didst in human wise take flesh for me

Of sweet St Mary's fair virginity,

and made ‘midst men Thy home.

Help me to see the greatest in the least,

The whole of life is one great Eucharist;

in common ways and simple loyalties

To find hid treasure of high sanctities,

as Love links symbols to realities

in Thy blest altar Feast.

THE FEAST

Perhaps Fr. Andrew felt that to call this emerging community the ‘Society of the Sacred Heart’ might be too much for most Anglicans!  But the Sacred Heart was one of their two dedications – the other being our Lady – and reflected their eventual choice of name ‘Divine Compassion’.  That was what these men, inspired by St. Francis of Assisi, wanted the people amongst whom they ministered to experience – the compassionate, Heart of Jesus. 

The Society was never large and it’s last member died in 1952, but it did remarkable work not only in ministering in the slums of Plaistow but also in helping establish the Hospital and Homes of St. Giles for Lepers in East Hanningfield, Essex in 1914.   In recognition of the importance of SDC the revised Daily Office Book of the Society of St. Francis, published in 1992, named the Friday of the week following Corpus Christi, ‘The Divine Compassion of Christ’ and allowed it to be kept as a Feast.  That day (today), of course, is recognised as the Feast of the Sacred Heart of Jesus in the Catholic Church.  ‘The Divine Compassion’ also appeared in Celebrating Common Prayer, but when the Liturgical Commission published ‘Comm. Worship’ they dropped it from the Calendar.  I assume that was because it sounded too ‘Romish’ and I’m unsure if it appears in any of the multitude of Anglican service books which have appeared since. I don’t think it’s recognised in the calendar of the Episcopal Church, but I’d be interested to know if it’s officially recognised anywhere in the Anglican Communion.

Pope Pius IX had made the Feast of the Sacred Heart part of the general Calendar of the Church in 1856 but the first Office and Mass were composed by St. John Eudes, but the institution of the Feast was a result of the appearances of our Lord to St. Margaret Mary Alacoque in 1673.  During one of them, Jesus had said to her: "I promise you in the excessive mercy of my Heart that my all-powerful love will grant to all those who receive Holy Communion on the First Fridays in nine consecutive months the grace of final perseverance; they shall not die in my disgrace, nor without receiving their sacraments. My divine Heart shall be their safe refuge in this last moment."

SACRED HEART AND CHURCH OF ENGLAND

Such sentiments may have come from the lips of our Saviour, but it appears that they don’t resonate with many Anglicans …  Talk about the ‘grace’ which comes from receiving the Body and Blood of Christ in Holy Communion, the need to prepare yourself, when necessary, by making your confession and so on seems not only foreign but, these days, unnecessary. 

Yet it’s part of that affective piety which seeks to involve the emotions to deepen devotion to the physicality of Christ and the saints, something which seems to have died in England with the Reformation and has hardly re-appeared.  Devotions concerning Mary, the Blessed Sacrament and Stations of the Cross may have gained a toe-hold, but the Sacred Hearts of Jesus and Mary (and they are both as one) have hardly any place.   And that is in spite of the way we know one of the most important teachings of Christianity concerns the love of God.  We may talk about it and preach about it, but we are an Incarnational, sacramental people – matter matters – and the image of the Sacred Heart reveals profound aspects of Godly love and the cost God in Jesus was prepared to pay to reveal the depths of his love, something I want to look at in the third and final talk . 

This piety towards the Sacred Heart isn’t just so we can feel better about ourselves or one intended to give us a spiritual ‘boost’, which is what some people say they get from going to a service, but to effect a change in our life.  Devotion to the Sacred Heart is intimately connected with personal conversion – with our metanoia.  This is brought out in another of the apparitions to Margaret Mary:

“Behold this Heart which has so loved human beings that it has spared nothing, even to exhausting and consuming itself, in order to give them proof of its love, and in return I received from the greater number nothing but ingratitude, contempt, irreverence, sacrilege,  and coldness towards the Sacrament of my love.” 

SACRED HEART AND THE BLESSED SACRAMENT

That final phrase, ‘the Sacrament of my love’, is something we ought to ponder – it reveals the intimate connection between the Sacred Heart and the Blessed Sacrament.   It’s a phrase which highlights the point–counterpoint of Jesus’ wooing us with his love: we reject him and then he loves us even more ardently.  This is a powerful affirmation of the unconditionality of God’s limitless love, a love that doesn’t depend our worthiness or actions.  A love which, the Collect for the Sodality of Mary, Mother of Priests compares with an ocean.

That was a term used by the Jesuit, St. Claude de la Colombiere, who was of immense help to St Margaret Mary: ocean of mercy found in the Heart of Jesus in also present in the Eucharist.  There were three occasions when St. Margaret Mary spoke of this love revealed through the Sacred Heart of the Eucharist, revelations which occurred whilst St. Margaret Mary was meditating before the Blessed Sacrament.  These point, in a very striking way, to the fact that God longs for us to let our love for him flow.  Both the Sacred Heart and the Eucharist reveal that ‘love was his meaning’ and that we were made out of love, for love.  One reflects the other and both are the consequence of the Incarnation – at the centre of the Sacrament in which the Word of God is present lies the Sacred Heart wanting to engage with ours.  As someone pointed out: the ‘so’ in ‘God so loved the world …’ is the Sacred Heart of Jesus. 

As many mystics realised, this holy courtship happens within us and that is why our response is described in their visions as an awakening to our true nature, a realisation of God within.   In that moment our solitary and self-sufficient ego turns out to be simply a much-too-limited identity.  We find our heart widens with this universal compassion found in the Heart of Christ: made by a God who is love, we are never more human than when we are expressing love – and both the Sacred Heart and the Blessed Sacrament make clear the nature of Godly love.  

That’s why those ordained to ministry need to have the Heart of Jesus – why they need to make sure they’re constantly returning to this source of the love they proclaim in word and deed.   Every priest needs, in a real way, to be a priest of the Sacred Heart, a priest of Divine Compassion, for it is Compassion which lies in the depths of the Sacred Heart – indeed, is the way in which that Heart is to be understood.  We can always be present to His compassion when we come before Him in the Blessed Sacrament. 

So people have longed to look upon that loving compassion and can do so when the Sacrament is exposed to our gaze on the altar: there we can be present to Him as He is present to us.  I know it’s unlikely to happen, but I have always thought how wonderful it would be if every church offered times when the Blessed Sacrament was shown, so anyone could sit or kneel in prayer in His Presence. Couldn’t churches consider helping people come and adore Him who longed – and longs – to be with us?  There we can talk with Him or just rest with Him – as did St. Margaret Mary – and know that He is fully present to all who come to Him.  Or, as someone I know does, could simply curl up before Him who opens His Heart to us in the Sacrament of Divine Love.

But even if we cannot find an open church where the brilliance of the Host shines out to our gaze, we can always take Him with us in the tabernacle of our heart for, as St Francis of Assisi wrote in his Rule of 1221: ‘We should make a dwelling-place within ourselves where He can stay, He who is the Lord God Almighty, Father, Son and Holy Spirit.’  The Sacred Heart of the Blessed Sacrament invites us to make our heart’s like His.

Recently someone wrote to me about the way she realised her heart was growing harder:  ‘About six years ago I became troubled that my heart was becoming like stone, and I made a conscious choice to change this situation.  I knew that only God could help me on this one, and He did.’  She went on to observe: ‘I’ve noticed that, as some people get older, they become increasingly bitter and resentful about what life hurls at them.  They may even choose to have hatred running in their lives.  It sort of energises them and keeps them going.’

I had noticed something similar in some people’s attitudes towards those of other nationalities or ethnicities – and especially towards refugees and immigrants – following Brexit, and we’re only too conscious of this in the recent Black Lives Matter protests.  And I reflected on something the Holy Father wrote last year: “Jesus’ only judgement” he said, “is one filled with mercy and compassion.”   Yet re-making one’s heart isn’t easy, which is why the need to do so lies at the heart of ours and every faith.   As one great Scottish evangelist wrote: ‘To refuse to be continuously converted puts a stumbling block in the growth of our spiritual life. There are areas of self-will in our lives where our pride pours contempt on the throne of God and says, “I won’t submit.”

CONCLUSION

In the end, devotion to the Sacred Heart is simply about making the heart, the centre of our being, like Christ’s.   Nurturing within ourselves His love and compassion which is why the fact that the Sacred Heart has never had a place in the life of the Church of England is a cause for great sadness, for it is our loss.   We may or may not have celebrated the Feast today (maybe, next year?!) but the reality of the Divine Compassion of Jesus is something we need to desire to flow in our hearts and be lived out in our lives.  This ought not to be an optional celebration for catholic’s ‘who like that sort of thing’ but one which is of obligation. 

We are obligated to the Sacred Heart – made in the image of God we are not completely human – we don’t reflect what being human is all about – until our heart is like the Heart of Jesus – and Mary.  We will find ourselves in the Sacred Heart, know ourselves there, and know that the suffering we might experience as we seek to love as He does takes us more deeply into His Heart.

O Jesu, O Sacred Heart,

burning with Divine love

    send into my heart

a spark of that fire

which burneth in thee;

    excite in me a burning and a flaming spirit;

    impress upon me

the seal of thy Love

that I may worthily before thy work

Prayer from A Pilgrim’s Book of Prayers, Fr. Gilbert Shaw, p. 26

SERMON for the 12th SUNDAY in ORDINARY

Preached at the Church of All Saints, Blackheath

at Parish Mass on June 23rd, 2019

______________________________

Readings: Isaiah 65.1-9, Galatians 3.23-29 and Luke 8.26-39

______________________________________________      

‘As many of you as were baptised into Christ 

have clothed yourself with Christ.’ (Gal.3.27)

X

INTRODUCTION

I always feel sorry for the pigs …  After all, they’d done nothing wrong, just that they are unclean in Jewish – and Muslim – eyes so were an appropriate means of disposing of those tormenting demons.  Poor pigs. 

              But after I'd stopped worrying about them my attention was caught by the way the man they had plagued suddenly ceases to be naked and becomes ‘clothed and in his right mind’ –  it recalled, for me, the way in which Paul wrote to those Galatians of the importance of being ‘clothed in Christ’.  Today we might say that the man was suffering from a mental illness and have him committed to a psychiatric unit to stop him from self-harming.  ‘There’s something wrong with his head’, as my mother might have said.  But then he was diagnosed as being possessed by demons – something affecting us at a far deeper level than the head.  

              These days we’re suspicious about such claims and regard the mind as controlling much of our behaviour.  We like to consider that we live in a rational society yet it’s clear we’re driven by far more visceral things.  You only have to look at the way the world reacts to so many issues to know that such re-actions have nothing to do with the rational but are driven by far deeper conflicts – conflicts centred in what we call the ‘heart’ – not the beating organ in our chest, nor simply the feelings we have, but that indefinable place within which is the centre of our being – where our thoughts, emotions and beliefs meet and from where we – unthinkingly – respond and react.  The society in which Jesus lived realised that only too well, and the scriptures are full of reminders of the need to create a ‘new heart’.  So, in the Book of Proverbs we read:

                        ‘Above all else, guard your heart, for everything you do flows from it.’ (Prov.4.23)

And “Blessed are the pure in heart”, said Jesus, “for they will see God.” (Matt.5.23)  Sadly it’s clear that, for many people, rational appeals don’t work – you have to appeal to the heart – which can easily become corrupted – ‘create in me a clean heart, O God, and renew a right spirit within me.’  That’s why Christ – who descended from the Heart of God and reached into the world’s heart – speaks into that place, rather than the head – to that place where, if we ‘sit’ there, we can learn the deepest truths.

CHRISTI AND SACRED HEART

I mention all this because today lies between two of the great, but often neglected, feasts of the Church, Corpus Christi and the Sacred Heart.  Both speak into the consequence of being ‘clothed in Christ’, which happens at our Baptism, for they invite us to give attention to the real presence of Christ – Christ before our eyes in the Blessed Sacrament and Christ reaching out into our hearts from His own Most Sacred Heart.  It’s one thing to take on the mantle of being a Christian, to say ’I believe’, but what we then need to do is to ask to be drawn deeper into Him.  

THE SACRED HEART AND ANGLICAN DEVOTION

We all know the importance of the image of the heart – from those printed on Valentine’s cards to one’s made with your fingers to express a feeling:

In spite of that, the Church of England ignores the great Feast of the Sacred Heart even though it’s been the object of inspiration and devotion for centuries, not least in medieval English devotion.  Back in the early 11th century St. Aelred of Rievaulx, the great Cistercian, wrote extensively about ‘Spiritual Friendship’ and maintained that the highest kind of friendship, that friendship which God invites us into, is a selfless communion of hearts (1.45)  Later, in the 14th century, Julian of Norwich – who lived in a cell attached to a church in that city and the first woman to write a book in English – described, in ‘Revelations of Divine Love’, how Jesus showed her, through his pierced side:

              ‘a fair, delectable place,

              and large enough for all mankind that shall be saved

              to rest in peace and in love.’ (Rev. 10) 

              And that place is His Heart.  That’s what makes this week’s Feast so important for it concerns the way in which the heart of each of us needs to be re-made, re-shaped and re-focussed into the Heart of God.  That’s where we are called to live out of – God’s compassionate, loving heart.

THE STORY OF THE SACRED HEART

Devotion to the Sacred Heart began to flourish more widely when, in 1673, a young French sister of the Visitation Order, St Margaret Mary Alacoque, received a number of revelations concerning Christ’s love.  In a vision she was invited to rest her head on the Heart of Jesus and, in so doing, gave fresh impetus to that devotion which quickly swept the world, a devotion to which this month of June is dedicated.  Yet for many all this talk about Sacred Hearts and the art often associated with it seems very flamboyant, distasteful even.  We don’t do emotion.  And that was a particular problem after the Reformation until some began to realise that in ignoring the heart, Christianity was suffering.  Then along came John Wesley. 

              It was consequent to his heart being “strangely warmed” that the Evangelical Revival could be said to have blossomed.  That ‘warming’ occurred when he heard a description of the change God works in the heart through faith in Christ.  There’s evidence that Wesley was drawn to devotion to the Heart of Jesus, not least because he arranged for the re-printing of a book about the Sacred Heart by Thomas Goodwin, a famous 17th cent. puritan (well, famous in the 17th century …).  Fifty years later one of the most popular hymns we sing was published which contain these lines:

ALL ye who seek a comfort sure
In trouble and distress,
Whatever sorrow vex the mind,
Or guilt the soul oppress,

Jesus, who gave himself for you
Upon the cross to die,
Opens to you his sacred heart;
O to that heart draw nigh.

These words help inspire the first, lasting community for women in the Church of England to be dedicated to the Sacred Heart.  From their members Florence Nightingale chose four sisters to nurse in the Crimea – but the name proved too controversial and was eventually changed. Fifty years later, in 1897, a group of men, under the inspiration of St Francis, dedicated their community to the Divine Compassion, which is another way of speaking about the Sacred Heart, but one which is far more acceptable to some Anglicans!

One of its members was Fr. Arthur Shearly Cripps who became a mission priest in what is now Zimbabwe.  He had such a deep sense of compassion for the black Africans amongst whom he lived that he became known as the ‘S. Francis of the African Countryside’ and wrote this moving devotion to the Sacred Heart:

O Heart of Jesus, Sacred, Compassionate,

Anguish it was, yet anguish that was bliss,

To love them heart to heart, each selfish heart,

To clasp them close, and pray in utter truth –

‘Father, forgive, they know not what they do.

COMPASSIONATE HEART OF JESUS

Recently someone wrote to me about the way she realised her heart was growing harder: 

              ‘About six years ago’ she said, ‘I became troubled that my heart was becoming like stone, and I made a conscious choice to change this situation.  I knew that   only God could help me on this one, and He did.’  She went on to observe: ‘I’ve noticed that, as some people get older, they become increasingly bitter and resentful about what life hurls at them.  They may even choose to  have hatred running in their lives.  It sort of energises them and keeps them going.’

              I had noticed something similar in some people’s attitudes towards those of other nationalities – and especially towards refugees and immigrants – following Brexit, so was heartened to read Pope Francis assertion that:

“Jesus’ only judgement is one filled with mercy and compassion.”

              Yet re-making one’s heart isn’t easy, which is why the need to do so lies at the heart of our faith and why, for example, St Benedict made ‘conversion of life’ one of the Vows of his Order.  You and I can find we have a stubborn heart which can refuse such a conversion until we simply say – I abandon myself to you, my God. 

CONCLUSION

In the end devotion to the Sacred Heart is simply about making my heart – the centre of my being – like Christ’s, nurturing within oneself His love and compassion.  I’ve sometimes heard people speak in a rather smug and disparagingly way about the bright red image of the Sacred Heart.  But crowned by the cross, surrounded by fire and encircled with the Crown of Thorns it offers an image of costly, Divine Love quite at odds with Valentine’s hearts.  Yet some people say: how tasteless! Too explicit; too graphic – especially when Jesus is shown holding it out for our gaze.   Even so it clearly touches and provokes a response in hearts that are simpler and unbiased. When, for example, during a school retreat a child was asked why Jesus’ heart should be shown outside His body he simply replied: “Because he loves us so much, he can’t keep it in.” 

              Ours isn’t a faith primarily determined by logic or rationality, but by Godly love: ‘By love can He be gotten and holden,’ wrote the author of the important 14th century English work, The Cloud of Unknowing, ‘but by thought, never.’  You and I are called to ‘stand before God with the mind in the heart and to go on standing before him unceasingly day and night until the end of life’ (Theophan the Recluse: 1815-1894)

              Stand in the mystery of our heart and the Heart of Christ, something we ignore at our peril.  We may not celebrate the Feast, but we need to be centred in the Heart of Christ, the Heart of God, if we’re to have ours re-made.  If we are to be the men and women we have the potential to become, a potential that’s like a seed in the ground, then we need to cultivate the heart, the heart of our being, and not just our brains!  I wish there were a Shrine to the Sacred Heart here and in every church!  An image to which children – people – could be taken and told: Behold, our Faith!  An image that would challenge us to ask ourselves – what would it be like to have a heart like His?  How can my heart become more “sacred”?  For, in the end, the Sacred Heart is about understanding Jesus’s love for me and all people and inviting me to love others as He did. 

O dearest Lord, thy Sacred Heart

with spear was pierced for me; 

O pour thy Spirit in my heart

that I may live for thee.

GOD …. THE SACRED HEART OF BEING

A Woman Clothed with the Sun
- Julienne McLean

I was grateful to Julienne MacLean, the Jungian analyst and teacher of Carmelite spirituality, for introducing me today to the writings of Sara Sviri and, in particular, to a book she has written called Taste of Hidden Things: Images on the Sufi Path.  Sara is herself a Sufi and I was deeply touched by some of the things she wrote about the Sufi teaching concerning the ‘Oneness of Being’.

            I was immediately struck by the way this connects with our Christian understanding of God as a Union of Beings whom we refer to as ‘Father, Son and Holy Spirit’. But I found myself being drawn further and finding in that term, ‘Oneness of Being’, a way into an understanding of God as the Sacred Heart of Being. Whatever God ‘is’, and it is impossible to define God –  all we can do is to ‘stand-under’ rather than ‘understand’ the mystery – but we can and many are drawn to gaze upon, or contemplate, this mystery. That ‘oneness of Being’ is what gave ‘birth’ to the sun and moon and stars; from that oneness flows the whole of creation, which is why we are told that it is the image and likeness of God. Why Jesus could say that ‘whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me’ (Matthew 25:40, 45) and why  St Francis of Assisi realised that all things were inter-related and referred to earth and fire and water, the wolf and ass – even death itself – as our brother and sister. For if God is spoken of as our ‘Father’ then Francis realised Earth to be our ‘Mother’.  We are one with all things and all things have a common origin in the sacred mystery – the Heart – of Being.

            And so we belong together, find our identity and sense of being in relationship with each other and are enriched by sharing in the sacred work of creativity. For creativity, especially when connected with humanity, must be sacred. Whenever, them, we stand before aspects of creation – a vast land or sea-scape, range of mountains or tiny butterfly and really give it our attention ­we can be profoundly moved. Why insubstantial love, love which seeks to enfold us and invites us to reach out to another, is the greatest gift we have. Why profound music or great paintings, poetry and sculpture have a sacred quality to them. And why prayer is so important. For whilst we may have the occasional awareness of being taken out of ourselves into the Other the discipline of prayer – what is called contemplative prayer – works on our own inner being and will make it increasingly sensitive to the Sacredness of Being. Contemplation of the Other will draw us more deeply into the Heart of the Other, into the Sacred Heart of Being. This is what people like Teresa of Avila realised and addressed as the ‘Interior Castle’, what John of the Cross gave himself to because of the way he realised himself being drawn to journey into the mystery of love, and what the author of the great medieval work of English mysticism taught lay behind a ‘Cloud of Unknowing’. Countless women and men have found that themselves joining with others from different religious traditions where the one commonality is the notion of the Oneness of Being that delights in drawing us into union.

            And it is why the notion of fragmenting that union, of damaging it or destroying it, causes so many to despair and why compassion is to be found deep in that Sacred Heart of Being. Seeing brokenness the contemplative, or person of prayer, will seek to hold that fragmentation and place it before the Heart of Being, offering love as a means of healing the dis-ease of brokenness. The contemplative is also a channel of that healing by the simple fact of seeking to let their own heart stay still and focussed so that, deep within them, they are at-one with the Sacred Heart of Being. With God. 

John-Francis 04.07.18