DEVOTION TO THE SACRED HEART OF JESUS
As a convert to Catholicism, I first found the devotion to the Sacred Heart of Jesus off-putting. It felt grisly and even tacky. It took years for this devotion to become beloved. My curiosity led me to explore the origins of the devotion. About a thousand years ago devotions to the five wounds of Christ, including the wounded heart, became popular. Greater emphasis on the wounded sacred heart of Christ arose in the 1600s, particularly in France. St. Margaret Mary Alacoque (1647-1690), in a series of visions, helped us see the image of the Sacred Heart that we venerate today along with a set of devotional prayers and practices.
In one of these practices, an image of the Sacred Heart is enthroned in our homes as a devotional centrepiece for our prayers. This image of the Sacred Heart has many layers of meaning for us. Its very presence in displaying the wounds of Christ reminds us of the sacrificial nature of Christianity and of everyday life. Looking at Christianity as a way of life, we can see the importance of sacrifice in promoting the common good of our homes, parishes and community. To paraphrase Marshall McLuhan, “every extension is an amputation.” McLuhan’s caveat was directed towards technological and material expansionism. Every time we acquire something, we give up or amputate something else be it time, money, space or focus. These sacrifices form our crown of thorns.
The Christian understanding of sacrifice turns the phrase around: “Every amputation is an extension.” The Way, the Christian life, is permeated with these amputations or sacrifices. We sacrifice our time to support our families, our parishes and communities. We sacrifice our time to pray and worship. When teaching, I pointed out that we sacrifice by entering a classroom to learn. We sacrifice our freedom and time in an artificial cave with people we didn’t ask to be with. This sacrifice, however, leads to learning. We extend ourselves. We grow spiritually. These sacrifices repair our ailing planet. They restore justice and peace. The heart aflame reminds us of the Emmaus pilgrims, giving us passion to embody the counsel to “make disciples” (Mt 28:19).
This sacrifice leads to Christian action. We go beyond our self-preoccupations to reach out to our dispossessed sisters and brothers. We risk our status to question unjust structures and patterns of action. We sacrifice our lives of comfortable distraction to pay attention to and to accompany the hard to be with. It is the wounded foot of Christ stepping towards us, stepping towards the world.
The magnificent sacrifice of Christ echoes in these smaller sacrifices that mark the Christian life. There is a temptation to let these smaller sacrifices build up into resentments that express themselves in angry outbursts. The Sacred Heart of Jesus reminds us to turn to gratitude as an antidote to resentment. It is the cross above the heart. Our central symbol that has a vertical axis joining us to heaven and a horizontal axis joining us to each other. It is Love God and love your neighbour as yourself made visible.
The central symbol of this devotion is the heart, the symbol of love but it is far from a candy-coated Valentine. Our sacrifices are made amid this embracing love. Sacrifice without this love can become self-abuse. Christian love embraces and gives meaning to constructive suffering. The rays that emanate from the Sacred Heart indicate the outward flow of love that blesses the world.
The Christian life is hard work and requires repeated sacrificial abandonments to our egos and self-directed desires. This Solemnity let us pray St. Charles de Foucauld’s Prayer of Abandonment:
Father,
I abandon myself into your hands;
do with me what you will.
Whatever you may do, I thank you:
I am ready for all, I accept all.
Let only your will be done in me,
and in all your creatures –
I wish no more than this, O Lord.
Into your hands I commend my soul:
I offer it to you with all the love of my heart,
for I love you, Lord, and so need to give myself,
to surrender myself into your hands without reserve,
and with boundless confidence,
for you are my Father. Amen.
Les Miller is a husband, dad, grandfather and catechist. He has served the Catholic education community for 40 years as teacher, chaplaincy team leader, Department Head. AQ Instructor, textbook writer, and Religious Education and Family Life Consultant. Les authored the 25 Questions Series, Words for the Journey and award-winners Catholic Teacher’s Companion and Northern Light. Currently, he is an instructor and advisor with the Archdiocese of Toronto’s online Catechist formation program and lead contributor to the St. Monica Institute’s series on praying with art, Abide in Beauty.
