Good Friday

 

On this Good Friday, I thought I would speak about the two robbers who were crucified next to Jesus.

One thief mocks Jesus saying, “Are you not the Christ? Save yourself and us!” But the good thief rebuked him saying, “Do you not fear God, since you are under the same sentence of condemnation? And indeed we justly, for we are receiving the due reward of our deeds, but this man has done nothing wrong.”

What wonderful graces of conversion knocked at the hearts of both thieves, desiring admission. One of them listens and goes from his cross to Paradise. The other one remains obdurate and refused to accept the graces offered to Him and goes to hell. What a terrible thought—to be damned—at the side of the dying Savior and His Blessed Mother! How awful the consequences of infidelity to grace, or neglect of opportunities of strengthening the our will in good. This wretched man can hear the sighs of Jesus pleading with His Father. He sees the Precious Blood poured out around His Cross as though it would besiege the heart of the sinner, and ward off Christ’s justice from its victim, and yet the miserable sinner remains unmoved in his wickedness. The awful power of free will on it depends eternal happiness or enteral misery.

The Good thief, however, had probably never heard a word from the lips of Jesus until they breathed the Divine prayer for His murderers, “Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do.” He knew nothing of our Savior’s doctrines, or miracles, yet he made a public declaration of his faith from his cross, next the cross of Jesus and under circumstances that would shake a dying person to his core. How clearly this proves the weakest man is strong with grace and the strongest weak without it and grace comes through prayer. And what was His prayer, “Lord, remember me when you come into your kingdom.” He sees the thorn-crowned head that lay drooping on Jesus’ chest lifted up. It turns to the repentant thief. The eyes dulling in the midst of death painfully raise themselves to his. He opens His dry lips open and words come out slow: “Amen I say to you, this day you shall be with me in paradise.” The answer was the pardon for the sins of a life, final perseverance, canonization while living, the promise of heaven, and happiest of all—reunion with His Master before the sun had set. The pardon granted reveals the loving mercy of the Sacred Heart.

Can we trust in Our Lord’s mercy to be tender and generous with us when we return to Him? O love of the Sacred Heart! “Lord, remember me!” The good thief had but a short time for prayer. Life will be soon be over, the little space wherein I am to obtain from God all that I want for my eternal happiness, and I as the good thief, may be content with the cry that includes every petition, “Lord, remember me!” Jesus I trust in your unfathomable mercy.

When St. Faustina was near death, she had a conversation with Jesus. Our Lord told her, “As you were united to Me in life, you will be united to Me at the moment of death.” And she replied, “After these words, such great trust in God's great mercy was awakened in my soul that, even if I had had the sins of the whole world, as well as the sins of all the condemned souls weighing on my conscience, I would not have doubted God's goodness but, without hesitation, would have thrown myself into the abyss of the divine mercy, which is always open to us…”

My friends, every day and at all times, trust in in God’s infinite mercy because do not know the day and our of our death. And every night before you go to bed pray an Our Father, a Hail Mary and a Glory Be asking the Lord for the grace of a happy death and finish by saying, “Jesus I trust in you. Remember me!"

(Note: excerpts from Meditation on the Passion by Rev. Reginald Walsh, OP)