A meditation on Lent from The Liturgical Year by Abbot Dom Guéranger, O.S.B.

This Sunday, called, from the first word of the Introit, Lętare Sunday, is one of the most solemn of the year. The Church interrupts her lenten mournfulness; the chants of the Mass speak of nothing but joy and consolation; the organ, which has been silent during the preceding three Sundays, now gives forth its melodious voice; the deacon resumes his dalmatic, and the subdeacon his tunic; and instead of purple, rose-coloured vestments are allowed to be used. These same rites were practised in Advent, on the third Sunday, called Gaudete. The Church's motive for introducing this expression of joy into today's liturgy is to encourage her children to persevere fervently to the end of this holy season. The real mid-Lent was last Thursday, as we have already observed; but the Church, fearing lest the joy might lead to some infringement on the spirit of penance, has deferred her own notice of it to this Sunday, when she not only permits, but even bids, her children to rejoice!

The Station at Rome is in the basilica of Holy Cross in Jerusalem, one of the seven principal churches of the holy city. It was built in the fourth century, by the emperor Constantine, in one of his villas called Sessorius, on which account it goes also under the name of the Sessorian basilica. The emperor's mother, St. Helen, enriched it with most precious relics, and wished to make it the Jerusalem of Rome. With this intention she ordered a great quantity of earth taken from Mount Calvary to be put on the site. Among the other relics of the instruments of the Passion which she gave to this church was the inscription which was fastened to the cross; it is still there, and is called the Title of the Cross. The name of Jerusalem, which has been given to this basilica, and which recalls to our minds the heavenly Jerusalem towards which we are tending, suggested the choice of it as today's Station. Up to the fourteenth century, when Avignon became for a time the city of the Popes, the ceremony of the golden rose took place in this church; at present, it is blessed in the palace where the sovereign Pontiff happens to be residing at this season.

The blessing of the golden rose is one of the ceremonies peculiar to the fourth Sunday of Lent, which is called on this account Rose Sunday. The thoughts suggested by this flower harmonize with the sentiments wherewith the Church would now inspire her children. The joyous time of Easter is soon to give them a spiritual spring, of which that of nature is but a feeble image. Hence, we cannot be surprised that the institution of this ceremony is of a very ancient date. We find it observed under the pontificate of St. Leo IX (eleventh century); and we have a sermon on the golden rose preached by the glorious Pope Innocent III, on this Sunday, and in the basilica of Holy Cross in Jerusalem. In the middle ages, when the Pope resided in the Lateran palace, having first blessed the rose, he went on horseback to the church of the Station. He wore the mitre, was accompanied by all the Cardinals, and held the blessed flower in his hand. Having reached the basilica, he made a discourse on the mysteries symbolized by the beauty, the colour, and the fragrance of the rose. Mass was then celebrated. After the Mass, the Pope returned to tile Lateran palace. Surrounded by the sacred college, he rode across the immense plain which separates the two basilicas, with the mystic flower still in his hand. We may imagine the joy of the people as they gazed upon the holy symbol. When the procession had reached the palace gates, if there were a prince present, it was his privilege to hold the stirrup, and assist the Pontiff to dismount; for which filial courtesy he received the rose, which had received so much honour and caused such joy.

At present, the ceremony is not quite so solemn; still the principal rites are observed. The Pope blesses the golden rose in the vestiary; he anoints it with holy chrism, over which he sprinkles a scented powder, as formerly; and when the hour for Mass has come, he goes to the palace chapel, holding the flower in his hand. During the holy Sacrifice, it is fastened to a golden rose-branch prepared for it on the altar. After the Mass, it is brought to the Pontiff, who holds it in his hand as he returns from the chapel to the vestiary. It is usual for the Pope to send the rose to some prince or princess, as a mark of honour; sometimes, it is a city or a Church that receives the flower.

We subjoin a free translation of the beautiful prayer used by the sovereign Pontiff when blessing the golden rose. It will give our readers a clearer appreciation of this ceremony, which adds so much solemnity to the fourth Sunday of Lent. 'O God! by whose word and power all things were created, and by whose will they are all governed! O Thou that art the joy and gladness of all Thy faithful people! we beseech Thy divine Majesty, that Thou vouchsafe to bless and sanctify this rose, so lovely in its beauty and fragrance. We are to bear it, this day, in our hands, as a symbol of spiritual joy; that thus the people that is devoted to Thy service, being set free from the captivity of Babylon by the grace of Thine only-begotten Son who is the glory and the joy of Israel, may show forth, with a sincere heart, the joys of that Jerusalem, which is above, and is our mother. And whereas Thy Church, seeing this symbol, exults with joy for the glory of Thy Name; do Thou, O Lord! give her true and perfect happiness. Accept her devotion, forgive us our sins, increase our faith; heal us by Thy word, protect us by Thy mercy; remove all obstacles; grant us all blessings; that thus this same Thy Church may offer unto Thee the fruit of good works; and walking in the odour of the fragrance of that Flower, which sprang from the root of Jesse, and is called the Flower of the field, and the Lily of the valley, may she deserve to enjoy an endless joy in the bosom of heavenly glory, in the society of all the saints, together with that divine Flower, who liveth and reigneth with Thee in the unity of the Holy Ghost, world without end. Amen.'

We now come to the explanation of another name given to the fourth Sunday of Lent, which was suggested by the Gospel of the day. We find this Sunday called in several ancient documents, the Sunday of the five loaves. The miracle alluded to in this title not only forms an essential portion of the Church's instructions during Lent, but it is also an additional element of today's joy. We forget for an instant the coming Passion of the Son of God, to give our attention to the greatest of the benefits He has bestowed on us; for under the figure of these loaves multiplied by the power of Jesus, our faith sees that Bread which came down from heaven, and giveth life to the world (St. John vi. 33).  'The Pasch,' says our Evangelist, 'was near at hand'; and, in a few days, our Lord will say to us: 'With desire I have desired to eat this Pasch with you' (St. Luke xxii. 15). Before leaving this world to go to His Father, Jesus desires to feed the multitude that follows Him; and in order to do this, He displays His omnipotence. Well may we admire that creative power, which feeds five thousand men with five loaves and two fishes, and in such wise that even after all have partaken of the feast as much as they would, there remain fragments enough to fill twelve baskets. Such a miracle is, indeed, an evident proof of Jesus' mission; but He intends it as a preparation for something far more wonderful; He intends it as a figure and a pledge of what He is soon to do, not merely once or twice, but every day, even to the end of time; not only for five thousand men, but for the countless multitude of believers. Think of the millions, who, this very year, are to partake of the banquet of the Pasch; and yet, He whom we have seen born in Bethlehem (the house of bread) is to be the nourishment of all these guests; neither will the divine Bread fail. We are to feast as did our fathers before us; and the generations that are to follow us, shall be invited as we now are, to come and taste how sweet is the Lord ( Ps. xxxiii. 9.)

But observe, it is in a desert place, as we learn from St. Matthew (St. Matt. xiv. 13), that Jesus feeds these men, who represent us Christians. They have quitted the bustle and noise of cities in order to follow Him. So anxious are they to hear His words, that they fear neither hunger nor fatigue; and their courage is rewarded. A like recompense will crown our labours, our fasting and abstinence, which are now more than half over. Let us, then, rejoice, and spend this day with the light-heartedness of pilgrims who are near the end of their journey. The happy moment is advancing, when our soul, united and filled with her God, will look back with pleasure on the fatigues of the body, which, together with our heart's compunction, have merited for her a place at the divine banquet.

The primitive Church proposed this miracle of the multiplication of the loaves as a symbol of the Eucharist, the Bread that never fails. We find it frequently represented in the paintings of the catacombs and on the bas-reliefs of the ancient Christian tombs. The fishes, too, that were given together with the loaves, are represented on these venerable monuments of our faith; for the early Christians considered the fish to be the symbol of Christ, because the word 'fish' in Greek is made up of five letters, which are the initials of these words: Jesus Christ, Son (of) God, Saviour.

In the Greek Church this is the last day of the week called, as we have already noticed, Mesonestios. Breaking through her rule of never admitting a saint's feast during Lent, she keeps this mid-Lent Sunday in honour of the celebrated abbot of the monastery of Mount Sinai, St. John Climacus, who lived in the sixth century.

Christ's Passion as seen and experienced by Veronica (March 8, 1971)

     The Passion was seen in vision by Veronica during the praying of the Sorrowful Mysteries of the Rosary. Present during this phenomenon were Camille Debrowski, Ben and Mary Salomone, and Evelyn Murphy.  

     Veronica received the stigmata of the hands and feet at this time. A cross appeared on her right foot in the instep area, directly in line with the big toe and second toe, near the center of the instep, but over more to her left side of the instep, centered between the ankle area and toes. The nail bruise appeared on the instep of the left foot, more centered between the second and third toe from the large toe, at the center of the instep. The right foot was crossed over the left. The cross fitted perfectly in line with the nail mark on the left foot. 

The Passion as related by Veronica: 

     "Jesus started by requesting that on the three initial beads of the Rosary we say the Acts of Faith, Hope, and Charity. Then we entered into the Sorrowful Mysteries. 

THE AGONY IN THE GARDEN 

     "During the first decade I saw Jesus on His knees, bent over in anguish, praying. He was wearing a long, burgundy-colored cape over an inner garment of beige-colored material, long and flowing. There was a great sadness in His face, great sorrow. He was talking to His Father in Heaven:

     "'Father, I will drink of this cup, down to the last dreg, if it be Your will. It is not I that should seek that this cup be removed from Me. My strength is everlasting in the light, and My heart a bleeding vessel for this cup.' 

THE SCOURGING 

     "During the second Mystery, I cried out, 'No! No! Stop that!' For there was our beloved Jesus being pulled to and fro as His tormentors pulled His upper garment from His back. They tied His wrists together and drove a spike into an upright beam. Jesus' hands were bound by strips of a brown, leather-like cord. Then the central part of the cord that bound His hands was looped over the spike in the beam. Poor Jesus was pinned by His hands.

     "There were five people in this cave-like room that appeared to be dug out of a hillside, a sort of hole-room in the hillside.

     "I screamed and winced as two soldiers took turns hitting Jesus' bare back with a long brown, leather-like strap. On this strap were metal hooks, laid horizontally all along the strap. These nail-like, claw-like fixtures on the strap cut and scratched deeply into Jesus' flesh, causing blood to pour out. It was a despicable game with the soldiers. They laughed and joked. Jesus never said a word.

     "I cried, 'Say something! Say something!' He could save Himself, but Jesus remained silent as they spat and insulted Him. His back became a mass of welts and torn flesh. Jesus was barefoot; His sandals had fallen off as they banged a stake higher into the pole and raised poor Jesus up so His toes barely touched the floor. The floor was just dirt and blood. The soldier remarked, 'Maybe they cut out His lying tongue. Ha, ha!' Our poor Jesus remained silent.

     "Off to the side I saw a room. There was a large, kettle-like pot, real old looking--of rough metal, a deep reddish-brown in color, very large. Underneath was a fire burning; there was a heavy liquid bubbling. Off to the side was another, longer metal receptacle filled with water. There were two soldiers dressed in short dresses--short, knee-length skirts, with pointed metal pieces hanging down in a pattern of triangles all around the waist, front and back.

     "They had a metal, vest-like covering on their chests and silver-colored metal headpieces that were shaped like a cap, but swooped up to a flowing design on the top. Three other men were almost naked, dressed in diaper-like clothing. They were holding a long piece of metal. They placed the end in the large kettle; it had a red-hot glow. Then the third man had a large, mallet-like hammer, and he beat on the hot metal. He was pounding it round and round until it looked like a spike. He would then douse it in that metal water trough. Two soldiers were talking over at the side. Later they took the five spikes. (There were five large spikes made.) 

THE CROWNING WITH THORNS 

     "I then saw Jesus. He had been cut from the post and had fallen over. A soldier roughly pulled Him over to a wicker-like stool and plunked Jesus onto it. Poor Jesus hung forward, and a nasty soldier put a long stick in His hands to balance Him up, and yelled, 'Ha, ha! So this is the King of the Jews! Let's dress Him as fitting!'

     "The soldier went outside, to return with an armful of brier bush. He used the metal tongs to make it easier to handle. He made a sort of cap and stuffed a circlet of briers into it. In that way he could handle it better and shove it on poor Jesus' head. The thorns were too hard to weave, to stay together, so the cap was thought of. It was so big, and he kept batting it down with a stick. The sadist gloated as he swung. Jesus, dearest Savior, said never a word. The pain was excruciating. Tears coursed down the cheeks of our poor Jesus, but they were of sorrow. The greatest pain was in His heart!

     "Jesus' hands were tied again with the brown, leather-like material; and He was dragged to His feet. The soldier draped His top gown over His torn back. Oh, I could see it stick to His oozing blood. Oh, it was horrible!  

THE CARRYING OF THE CROSS 

     "Then a soldier pushed Jesus out of the hole-like entrance, and down a road. There were many people, all in a spirit of carnival. Two soldiers pushed Jesus over to the side of the big crossbeam which was carried through the crowd. It looked like a heavy log--real rough, and a brownish wood. Two soldiers stood it up and another put Jesus over to it. Two soldiers started to tie His hands onto it. It was supported across His back and on the shoulders. It looked awfully heavy and awkward. The brown leather rope was taut across His elbow area. He seemed to be balancing and supporting the beam as He struggled on.

     "There were three ladies and a man walking off to one side with Him. The ladies were weeping silently. The man had his arm about a lady. The man was very tall. He had a long, brown gown on, and he had a brown beard and dark brown hair. The ladies wore beige-colored gowns; but one lady had a purple, coat-like garment over hers.

     "Jesus tripped and fell. He was so weak now, the beam had thrown Him off balance as He staggered. Poor Jesus fell. One nasty old man ran out of the crowd to spit and kick Him--the nasty old beast! I tried to tear off my tunic to wipe the blood out of His eyes. It was awful! He looked up at me--the soldiers wouldn't let me through. I pulled at my hair in frustration and anguish. Jesus looked at me, and I saw the love of an eternal, glorious promise. I cried, 'What could I do?' I screamed, 'Help Him! Help Him, please!' I, Veronica, was helpless to lift the cross. I could only hope to wipe His dear face.

     "Soon a soldier grabbed a man out of the crowd. This man had a long gown on with stripes down the front, and he had a turban wrapped around his head with stripes in the front. He sure didn't want to carry the beam, but they knew Jesus couldn't make it to the outskirts of the town. So this man shouldered the beam while the insane crowd taunted. Jesus was pushed and pulled along. Dirt and blood were all over Him; He was a picture of bloody grime.

     "I was retching; I was sick. Oh, such a horror! Such torture! How could they do this to Him? What did He do but love everyone! Beasts! Beasts! Soon the soldier ran up with the five spikes. When they reached the hill, there was a long piece of wood already on the ground. A soldier lifted the beam from the shoulders of this other man and threw it to the ground. Two other soldiers placed it on top of the long piece of wood to form a cross--long all the way down, and sort of sticking out at the top. They slammed one spike into the two beams and the cross was made. 

THE CRUCIFIXION 

     "Two lousy soldiers threw Jesus to the ground, and they pulled His arms out to stretch across the cross beam. Oh, how it hurt, the back so torn! I could see the pain in Jesus' eyes, but He never uttered a word. He just looked sad. Then they took brown, leather-like cord and wrapped it around His wrists at the board, bound to the board. Then they lifted and tied the wrists to the board, bound and wound the leather cord around the ankles and the wood to hold Him in place. 

     "Then the spikes were thrown onto the ground, and one soldier got down on his knees and he placed the spike in the center of the palm of poor Jesus' hand. With that metal mallet he drove it in through the skin and out into the board. I screamed! I threw up! This was repeated on the right hand. Then Jesus looked up to the sky. They started on the legs--one large spike into both feet, His right foot over the left, at a twisted sort of angle, placed to lie flat against each other. I retched as I heard the metal against flesh and bone and wood. One spike protruded out the other side. They hammered a block of wood under His poor feet, 'to line 'em up,' they said. It was awful!

     "I looked off into the crowd. Oh, there were only nine people there to stay with Jesus. I now knew His Mother, Mary Cleophas (the wife of Clopas), Mary Magdalen, and John. Oh, poor Jesus--never a word did He say as they nailed Him to the wood. Oh, such love!

     "Soon two soldiers lifted the head of the wood and three the bottom, carrying Jesus on the cross, and dropped the end into a hole. It went in with a thump! Jesus winced. And it tore His hands more. Blood was trickling down His face. He couldn't move His head. The pain was awful; each movement cut deep. He sagged a bit, but pulled upward. The sagging tore more.

     "Mary and Mary ran up to Him. They did not speak at first; they could talk with their eyes to each other. They didn't need words. John came over, for Jesus' bottom tunic fell down. Oh, dear, He was almost naked. I turned away, but John ran over and tied sort of knots in it, like a diaper. Oh, the humiliation to poor Jesus! Then Jesus said to John: "Behold, John, your Mother. And this, Mother, is Your son. I must go to the Father soon."

     "The crowd started to move off. Jesus cried: "Abba, abba sabba la bec tori"--that is what it sounded like--a foreign sound. Sabba sabba sabba la bec tori. (I can't spell it well, just by sound.) Then He looked up. "I thirst!" (This I heard in English.)  

     ". . . Water, yellowish water. . . . Jesus' head hung down to His right. It became dark, so dark. Everyone went away but the nine. They all came close; and Mary clung to His feet, wordless in sorrow." 

     Veronica finished the recitation of what she experienced to find her feet swollen and her arms sore, the feet marked and the hands stinging. Her wordless reaction was a mixture of wonder, joy, and love--joy that now she could join Jesus in His suffering and hold His hand on the road to the Kingdom.

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Revised: February 26, 2012