Eugene’s personal journal continues to give us glimpses into how he handled suffering. The occasion was his former servant, Dauphin, dying of cholera.
Dauphin is still alive, but is steadily becoming worse, I just said Mass for him. Father Tempier was called to receive the last breath of Lamberte, an excellent woman, devoted to the interests of the house, and entirely at the service of the Calvaire. She took care of our dear Father Marcou in his last illness, we are suffering a great loss.
I am not afraid to express what I feel; why should people not know that we are not ungrateful? Did Our Divine Saviour not weep over Lazarus, is not his heart a prototype of our own? Oh! Yes, I love with a true, sincere and tender affection, everyone who loves me; I am saddened, I weep over the loss of all those devoted to me, to our members or our holy endeavour!
I am horrified at egotistical people, insensible hearts, who take everything to themselves and give nothing in return for what people give them. The more I study the heart of Jesus Christ, the more I meditate on the actions of his precious life, the more am I convinced that I am right and they are wrong, and the more I thank the Lord for giving me this light, and a soul capable of understanding and appreciating these things.
Eugene de Mazenod’s Diary, 2 September 1837, EO XVIII
What an inspiration for us to “study the heart of Jesus Christ”!
I wonder what it is to ‘study the heart of Jesus Christ’. What does that look like? I know it is more than memorizing a book. I think it may well be how I look at that book, take it in and see what it looks like in the present moment. Not with expectations but how it is in the present moment.
I think for a moment of how I see things – how I see the heart of Jesus. Perhaps if I see through the eyes of Jesus – on the cross; through the eyes of our crucified Saviour, my Beloved.
In a moment of boredom or perhaps fear of not being able to realise what I have just said to myself, I stop and pick up my kaleidoscope. A small niggle of fear that I might not be able to focus this morning but I put it up to my eye. At first there are no fireworks – no drama – it is pretty yes but I want more – I want what I saw as a child. Almost ready to put it down I continue to turn it slowly – looking up towards the light that I know is there. And something changes, for this morning it has become more than what I am used to seeing. I notice how the centre seems to be constantly opening up as the colours drop away from the centre, stretching outwards. It is ever-changing and truly glorious. Each of the small present moments undo me and I stop to catch my breath at the wonder and awe that I am experiencing. I breathe again and my being utters a silent and drawn-out ‘oh’.
I realise that in sharing this here I am celebrating what I have just experienced. It is not just about what I ‘study’ but how I ‘study’. If it is the heart of Jesus then I might be better off trying to look from the inside out.