Scourging

+JMJ+

Tuesday.

Holy Week.

Tied to a pole, like a criminal. They take the whips, little hooks, pieces of bone affixed. They rip His flesh. Gaping wounds begin to emit puss and blood as germs mix with His sacred flesh. Is this truly the God-man?

Yet, there He is. Innocence became sin, for our redemption. And yet, the little crosses we are asked to carry are too heavy? Really?

She was standing in the shadows, watching as they lash Him. With every impact, her whole body feels the blow. Her suffering is inexplicable. Never having sinned, and yet, she, too, bears the burden of sin. And this, Balthasare reflects, in ways we shall never know.

Immaculate Mother watches. Immaculate Son becomes a perfect Sin offering. Think about it, close your eyes. Do you wince when you hear the whip hit His sacred side? See the blood in pools upon the dusty ground--can you see your reflection? You are in that blood...He shed it for you.

Beloved, may we recognize the full weight of our sins. Imbue us with humility and gratitude, so that we may faithfully take the whip right beside you. May we never tire of suffering, knowing it leads to Redemption. Amen.