Driving to Minneapolis, I was listening to the audio book by Catherine Doherty, STRANNIK, or Pilgrimage – the Call to the Pilgrimage of the Heart. One part of her “little mandate,” the words given to her by Jesus about her life’s mission, were: “Go without fears into the depths of men’s hearts.” In the book she speaks of this journey into men’s hearts, where our feet may become bruised and bloody. The interior of the heart is often strewn with sharp stones and jagged pebbles, and to walk there injures us as we listen to the pain of their life struggles.
This brought to mind the movie FOR GREATER GLORY, the story of the persecution of the Catholic faith in Mexico in the early 1900’s. A young boy, Jose Sanchez del Rio, is moved to give his life to Christ, prompted in part by his witnessing the martyred death of his parish priest. When Jose tries to warn the priest to flee an imminent assault, the elderly priest tells the boy there can be no greater glory than to give one’s life for Christ. Soldiers come and shoot the priest, and the boy goes to join the Cristeros, a peasant up-rising resisting the government’s persecution of the Church. Too young to carry a rifle, Jose helps however he can, until he is captured by the government forces. His father begs him to just deny Christ, to save his life, but Jose stands firm in his faith, and is consequently tortured and killed. Part of his torture includes the cutting of his feet, and the scene showing him staggering to his open grave, his tortured feet bleeding and broken, is a powerful witness to his courage and faith. The story is a true one, and the boy Jose is one of the child saints of Mexico, beatified on November 20, 2005.
This story spoke to me especially because of the witness of Bp Joseph Madera, our spiritual leader for a pilgrimage trip to Mexico. Bp Madera, 85 years old when I met him on pilgrimage, lived in Mexico through this time of persecution, and spoke of his personal experience of the cruelties inflicted on those who were remaining faithful to the Church. He too spoke of the bleeding feet, as a particular frequent means of torture.
Reverend Richard Wurmbrand, a Lutheran pastor who wrote TORTURED FOR CHRIST, is another witness to this form of persecution. Living in Communist Russia, he was arrested and spent many years in Soviet prisons, where his own feet were brutally beaten. When he was released after many years of confinement, he could no longer stand or walk without great effort and pain due to the tortures. He came to the United States and shared his story of Soviet persecution of Christians, founding the VOICE OF THE MARTYRS, which is active today calling for awareness, prayer and help for persecuted Christians around the world.
It was with all of these stories of bleeding feet and persecution stored in my mind that I was meditating on the washing of the feet by Jesus on the night before His crucifixion. As I saw Him in my imagination with His disciples, the image changed; I was sitting in a chair, and the Lord was kneeling before me. And my own feet were all bruised and bleeding. With great care and tenderness, the Lord began to gently wash and bandage my feet. All of us who strive to stand firm for Christ, and to walk with Him, find our feet bruised to a greater or lesser extent. Life’s struggles and the wounds we incur are part of the human journey, or pilgrimage.
This brings me back to the beginning of this reflection, and the book STRANNIK.
Listening to the pain in the depths of men’s hearts is a call, and a gift. By listening with compassion and love, we allow Christ’s healing grace to enter in to those areas of pain
and brokenness. We don’t keep that pain within ourselves, but release it to the Lord, to be united with His sacrifice on the Cross. This brings the freedom He desires for us; freedom to love Him and to love one another.
The call I associate with this gift of listening is the call I received to become a spiritual director. Knowing we stand on holy ground when we listen to another’s heart, to walk so gently there and be an instrument of God’s healing grace for another, is a ministry sorely needed in the church today. For those given the desire to draw closer to the Lord through prayer and reflection, having someone to listen with their heart in a safe and trusting relationship is a great help for the journey. St. Therese Couderc, the Saint who appeared in the chapel at Our Lady of Divine Providence, was a quiet and humble soul whom the Lord sent to bring the Ignatian spiritual exercises to the Cenacle where I received training to become a spiritual director. A quotation from this Saint hangs on the wall of the House of Prayer at the Cenacle, and states: “What does it matter if my bare and cut feet fill my sabots with blood; I would willingly begin my journey again, I have found God so completely.”
So many thoughts about feet! I can see them skipping across the crests of the waves, being washed in the waters of mercy… and igniting sparks of glory! I recently heard a program presenter speaking about discipleship, and he explained how a disciple must stay so very close to Jesus that as He walks, the dust from His feet comes to settle on his followers. This thought re-surfaced in my prayer time when the word “walk” stood out for me, and I began to visualize myself following Jesus closely, with the dust rising from His footprints and coming to land on me. Only the dust was being transformed into glory sparkles! I pictured us heading toward the Cross, with the radiant sun rising behind it, and I was following exactly in Jesus’ footprints. And then I noticed that the footprints were blood- stained… Blood and sparkles, suffering and glory ~ all on the road to the Resurrection. When we stay so very close to Jesus, He gives us the grace to walk in the suffering, and the glory begins to appear even as we travel the path together…
In Mexico we visited the church which is home to the “Poison Crucifix.” The story related to us there was of a priest who had great devotion to Christ, and would often kiss His feet on the crucifix before he went home for the day. There was a man who hated this priest, and wished him dead; he watched the priest daily kissing Jesus’ feet on the crucifix, and fixed on a plan to kill him. He took some deadly poison and applied it to the feet of the crucifix, knowing that it’s potency would be enough to kill anyone touching their lips to the wood. The next day, the priest as was his custom came to kiss the feet before leaving for the night, and as he did so, the legs drew upward and the entire corpus turned black. Christ had absorbed the poison, and the priest was unharmed. His would-be assassin came to confession, where he was forgiven and converted; the now black crucifix stands today as a sign of Christ’s power and healing.
I don’t remember when I first started kissing the feet of the crucifix I have hanging on the wall by my front door, but it’s become a devotion that brings me blessing and helps to keep me centered as I leave the apartment each day. Perhaps the story of the poison crucifix was the catalyst as it touched my heart on our pilgrimage. It also ties in with an experience related by Liz Kelly in one of her talks for her book study JESUS APPROACHES.
Liz related how when leaving Adoration, she would often quietly blow a kiss to Jesus in the Blessed Sacrament. It was a small and private gesture, an intimate sign of her love for the Lord. Then on a retreat with Fr Zlatko Sudac it took on more meaning; as I recall, Liz related that they were having a time of Adoration and Fr Sudac was exiting after exposing the Blessed Sacrament, when he looked directly at Liz, and quietly blew her a kiss. She was taken aback, both surprised and delighted, and afterwards Liz asked one of the group leaders if they had ever seen Fr do that before. The leader responded that she had seen it too, and it was a first!
Hearing this story, I thought of my quiet kiss for Jesus’ feet as I leave my apartment, and mused about Him kissing my own feet, which seemed very unlikely. Then I recalled last Holy Thursday, when I had been asked to be one of the people who would have their feet washed by our pastor, Fr Luke. We each sat on an interior aisle seat, and Fr made his way down the center, washing and, yes, placing a simple kiss on our foot. I remember so clearly being surprised at this ( we didn’t know he was going to do this) and especially looking into his eyes after he had kissed my foot. It was the closest I’ve ever come to seeing Jesus face to face, and brings my heart blessing when I recall it. The Lord had returned my simple apartment gesture through this holy priest, who was indeed that day in persona Christi for me. The Lord knows our hearts – He knows my heart – and He showed me His own heart through this moment of grace.
That’s enough foot thoughts for now; mine need a rest 🙂 I’m always amazed at how so many independent experiences can be woven together to form a bigger picture – always of God’s personal and intimate knowledge of us, and giving us just what we need to grow in faith and trust in Him…
Lord God, grant us the grace to walk on the sharp stones of pain within others’ hearts, unafraid and without counting the cost, knowing that Your gentle hands will bring healing and wholeness to both of us on this pilgrimage to the Father’s House. Saint Mother Couderc, pray for us…
Spiritual Sun Pennies 