I've taken to reading The Sadness of Christ during Lent. St. Thomas wrote it while he was awaiting execution, so there's a level of profundity in it that I really can't explain. His own desperation in dealing with his persecution and coming martyrdom is so palpable that the sense of it alone is enough to make you want to cry while reading it.
For today, I present the following for anyone looking for a worthwhile Lenten practice (or just a good thing to do in general):
How I wish that those of us who are prevented by our own laziness from imitating the illustrious example of our Savior might at least be willing to call to mind His all-night vigils when we turn over on the side of our beds, half asleep, and that we might then, during the short time before we fall asleep again, offer Him thanks, condemn our slothfulness, and pray for an increase in grace. Surely if we set out to make a habit of doing even the least little bit of good, I feel certain that God will soon set us forward a great way on the path of virtue.
Here is a man imprisoned, basically awaiting his death, and who is still looking for a way to improve his prayer life. What would I be worried about?
2 comments:
I'm reading Dialogue of Comfort Against Tribulation, which St. Thomas More also wrote while in the Tower of London. I too was struck by how "present" he is to the reader. I think if I read this and then The Sadness of Christ I will make a good Lent indeed. Thank you for your post.
You're very welcome. :-)
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