And It Was Night

Resonating in my heart all week has been the thought of how much Our Lord truly desired to die for us on the cross, and that the real pain he suffered was the indifference of men. It wasn’t the hardness of the nails, but the hardness of man’s heart that hurt him.

I wonder it you’ve ever thought of the crucifixion in this way, that Our Lord embraced the cross out of love. Of course we take for granted that he showed his love by enduring the cross, but he did not resent it. Again, he embraced it, because it was for us.

I think this is important for us to remember, because when we sin we’re tempted to think that we’ve ruined our relationship with God. And in our despair, we become forgetful of the meaning of the cross. But think of it: Christ saw all of our sins in the Garden. And yes, they caused him deep agony. But then the soldiers came to arrest him and he cried out, “Here I AM!” See, he was happy to be able to die for us, because he had just seen all of our sins, and he knew that his death on the cross would bring God’s mercy to us.

Here’s a meditation I wrote for petersboat.net on one way we can strive to honor Christ’s sacrifice on the cross, even after we fall into sin. It’s called “And It Was Night.”

*

As Judas took the bread from Jesus, Saint John writes, "He went out. And it was night.” It strikes me just how helpful that line can be for us in fight against temptation and sin.

It seems to me that even though we are awake during the day, striving quite imperfectly to be virtuous while moving about among our fellow man, our more frightening betrayals of the Lord most often occur in the hour referred to as “night.”

Saint John likens the night to the darkness in Judas’ soul, of course. But there is something to be said for the fact that we become most like Judas ourselves in the night. That darkness creeps into our soul most often after the sun has gone down.

Peter’s denial of the Lord also took place in the cold, dark night. In the darkness of Caiphas’ courtyard, while Peter was standing around a charcoal fire trying to keep warm, he said, “I do not know the man.” Again, it was night.

Whatever else we do in striving to follow the Lord in fidelity - whatever disciplines or routines we take up - let us lie down to sleep at the earliest possible time. It seems to me that very little good happens in the night.

As for the redemption of the dark, let’s leave that to the monks who rise in the middle of the night to pray for the world. And if we should awaken while it is still night, let us turn to God in prayer ourselves, until we are able to rest again.

And if we should fall in the night, like Judas, let us seek the Lord’s mercy in the morning, like Peter, who was able to say to Jesus, “Lord, underneath the cold, dark denial of you is still a tender flame of affection for you. Please, do not abandon me.” +