(LifeSiteNews) — Father Mateo Crawley-Boevey (1875-1961) had such great love for Jesus that he founded the practice of Enthronement of the Sacred Heart of Jesus in the home, which he described as follows in Jesus: King of Love:
The Enthronement is the official and social recognition of the rule of the Sacred Heart of Jesus over the Christian family, a recognition affirmed, outwardly expressed and made permanent by the solemn installation of the image of that divine Heart in a conspicuous place in the home, and by the Act of Consecration.
As we can tell from these words, the Enthronement goes well beyond the ceremony itself, extending to the permanent reign of the Sacred Heart of Jesus over the family and each of its members. From this we can see the intimate connection between the devotions to the Sacred Heart of Jesus and Christ the King. We cannot have true devotion to the Sacred Heart of Jesus unless we are determined to recognize that Christ is our King; and our complete devotion to Christ the King might be unsustainable if we did not have loving confidence in His Sacred Heart.
As our King, we know that Jesus has a right to command and judge us. But the theology of His Sacred Heart tells us that His mercy and love give us every reason to have confidence that we can follow His commandments and obtain favorable judgment. In the chapter on “Loving Confidence” in Jesus: King of Love, Fr. Mateo shared his understanding of the relationship between God’s justice and mercy:
[O]ur Lord must be much more a parent than a dreadful Judge, because He knows where our evil intentions end and where our weakness and ignorance begin. Hence that saying of Saint Therese: ‘I have absolute trust in the justice of God and I hope as much from it as I do from His mercy.’ And this is in perfect accord with theology. As for me, the more firmly I believe in the justice and equity of the King of Glory, the more do I believe in the mercy which I preach. For justice does not always — and still less exclusively — mean severity and punishment, but equity. Therefore, because God is just He must needs give me sometimes tenderness and compassion and, at other times, show severity and rigor. But, as a matter of fact, this Crucified God is much more inclined to pity than to anger whilst we are in this our earthly exile. Do you want a simple and eloquent proof of this? Let us suppose that the reader of these lines has committed a single mortal sin. If, here below, God were inexorably strict and severe why is not this soul already in hell, which it so justly deserves? Why is it still enjoying all the sweet blessings which this doctrine of redemption offers? It will be another thing when death closes our eyes and we stand on the other side of the eternal river, before the judgment seat of the most High. There the work of mercy is consummated and strict justice will be our share but, meanwhile, here below, ‘where sin offense, grace doth more abound,’ (Rom. v, 20.) and mercy.
Fr. Mateo could not write accurately and fully of God’s mercy without emphasizing that to die in a state of mortal sin would send a soul to hell. The reason for St. Therese’s unshakeable confidence in the mercy of the Sacred Heart of Jesus consisted in trusting that God will forgive us, and thus allow us to save our souls, if we sincerely repent and confess our sins.
Fr. Mateo followed this passage with a story illustrating the interplay of justice and mercy in the life of a Catholic sincerely seeking to amend his life and save his soul:
There is a very beautiful story of a miraculous crucifix. At its foot, a sincerely repentant sinner was making his confession. His sins were so great that the confessor hesitated for a moment to give him absolution, but, moved by the man’s tears, he said, ‘I will absolve you, but take care not to fall again!’ After some time the penitent returned. ‘I have struggled bravely, father, but in a moment of weakness, I have relapsed, and I came at once humbly to reconcile myself with God.’ ‘No,’ said the confessor, ‘this time I cannot give you absolution.’ ‘But, father, have pity on me! Remember that my soul is still very weak after a long and serious illness. Have pity, I am truly sincere!’ With great hesitation, and after severely censuring him, the priest, once more, gave him absolution. The penitent was truly contrite, but, after a long period of perseverance, the habit of so many years of sin, plus his whole nature, corrupted and deadened by vice, combined to break down his good resolutions. He hastened to his confessor with simplicity and confidence in order to regain the grace of God. ‘This time, I cannot absolve you,’ said the confessor. ‘You are not sorry.’ In vain the poor man wept, implored, argued: ‘I am weak, not wicked,’ he said. ‘I want to be faithful, but to do that I need the pardon for which I beg.’ ‘I cannot,’ said the priest, and he rose to go away, trying to break loose from the penitent who was holding him with both hands. At this moment, a sigh of immense love and compassion was heard. Both at once looked up. What did they see? The breast of the Crucified heaving with emotion, His eyes full of tears, and His right hand unnailed. Then, they heard His gentle voice saying, as He made the sign of the Cross: ‘I myself forgive thee, for thy soul is the gem for which I shed My Blood.’
Of course this may be only a pious legend, but Fr. Mateo meant it to illustrate the real love and mercy of the Sacred Heart of Jesus for the truly repentant sinner. But only the repentant sinner has reason for confidence in God’s mercy – the legend would have been maliciously misleading if the sinner had either been cavalier and unrepentant in confessing his sins, or else neglected to make use of the Sacrament of Penance altogether.
These considerations have fresh relevance in light of Francis’s recent messages on the Sacrament of Penance and the Sacred Heart of Jesus. He spoke most directly on the Sacrament of Penance in an address to the community of the Vatican College of Penitentiaries:
Always forgive everything, because we are here to forgive; let others argue! … The less you talk, the better … Just listen, console and forgive.
This direction may perhaps be sound for a sinner with only minor venial sins, or even a truly repentant sinner with serious sins, but such an approach would be truly evil in the case of a sinner in mortal sin who clearly showed no signs of sorrow or resolve to avoid future sins. And, if we want to realistically evaluate Francis’s message, the rhetoric only makes sense in those instances in which priests would be inclined to conclude that the penitent did not have proper contrition.
Francis’s new encyclical “On the Human and Divine Love of the Heart of Jesus,” Dilexit Nos, does not directly reference the Sacrament of Penance (or Confession) even though it deals with the topics of sin, compunction, and mercy. Paragraphs 136 and 137 arguably provide the key to understanding how Francis views God’s mercy in connection with our sins:
Perhaps the most important text for understanding the devotion of Therese to the heart of Christ is a letter that she wrote three months before her death to her friend Maurice Bellière. ‘When I see Mary Magdalene walking up before the many guests, washing with her tears the feet of her adored Master, whom she is touching for the first time, I feel that her heart has understood the abysses of love and mercy of the heart of Jesus, and, sinner though she is, this heart of love was disposed not only to pardon her but to lavish on her the blessings of his divine intimacy, to lift her to the highest summits of contemplation. Ah! dear little Brother, ever since I have been given the grace to understand also the love of the heart of Jesus, I admit that it has expelled all fear from my heart. The remembrance of my faults humbles me, draws me never to depend on my strength which is only weakness, but this remembrance speaks to me of mercy and love even more.’ Those moralizers who want to keep a tight rein on God’s mercy and grace might claim that Therese could say this because she was a saint, but a simple person could not say the same. In that way, they excise from the spirituality of Saint Therese its wonderful originality, which reflects the heart of the Gospel. Sadly, in certain Christian circles we often encounter this attempt to fit the Holy Spirit into a certain preconceived pattern in a way that enables them to keep everything under their supervision. Yet this astute Doctor of the Church reduces them to silence and directly contradicts their reductive view in these clear words: ‘If I had committed all possible crimes, I would always have the same confidence; I feel that this whole multitude of offenses would be like a drop of water thrown into a fiery furnace.’
Who are the “moralizers who want to keep a tight rein on God’s mercy and grace” if not those who suggest that we must follow the Catholic Church’s teaching on contrition and the Sacrament of Penance if we hope to obtain God’s mercy? Does he really imagine that St. Therese would not sincerely confess her sins if she had fallen into mortal sin?
Those who hesitate to find fault with Francis’s approach to these topics might recall that several of his initiatives – including Amoris Laetitia, Fiducia Supplicans, and Desiderio Desideravi – tend in various ways to teach sinners that they have no need to repent. One might even say that a dominant theme of his occupation of the papacy has been a distortion of God’s mercy with a corresponding mockery of God’s justice. And if the confessor in Fr. Mateo’s legend above were to have followed the path outlined by Francis from the outset – by never encouraging the man to avoid future grave sins – the sinner might have become hardened in his sins, going from bad to worse until he no longer tried to amend his life.
This is not simply a matter of leading souls to hell, which would of course be bad enough. It also tends to rob Our Lord of the souls that He died on the Cross to save. One can think of the parable of the king who asked his servants to call guests to the wedding feast:
And the king went in to see the guests: and he saw there a man who had not on a wedding garment. And he saith to him: Friend, how camest thou in hither not having a wedding garment? But he was silent. Then the king said to the waiters: Bind his hands and feet, and cast him into the exterior darkness: there shall be weeping and gnashing of teeth. (Matthew 22:11-13)
The man without the wedding garment is cast into the exterior darkness, and the king is deprived of a guest that he sought. What if the king learned that one of the servants had told the man that he did not need to wear the wedding garment? Surely that servant would be judged even more harshly than the unfortunate guest. Francis is like the servant who would insist that the guests should not bother wearing wedding garments to the wedding feast: “no, young man,” Francis tells the guest, “have confidence that the king wants to see you just as you are!”
As distressing as Francis’s war against the Catholic Faith is, it does make it abundantly clear that we must stand on the side of God and the saints in this intensifying spiritual battle. Our need to make reparation to the Sacred Heart of Jesus increases as the offenses against Christ the King mount. As Our Lord died on the Cross for us, He knew there would be enemies who would try to deprive souls of the merits of His Precious Blood, but surely He was also consoled with the knowledge of those among us who would love Him enough to serve Him as faithfully as possible. Immaculate Heart of Mary, pray for us!