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At Noon on Calvary

© Bachrach, Inc.

BY

BERNARD A FULLER, SJ.
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First Edition

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At Noon on Calvary

By

BERNARD A. FULLER, SJ.

THE AMERICA PRESS

New York, N. Y.



Imprimi Potest:

Nihil Ohstat:

Edward C. Phillips, S.J.,

Provincial Maryland-New York.

Arthur J. Scanlan, S.T.D.,

Censor Librorum.

Imprimatur

:

January 13, 1930.

+ Patrick Cardinal Hayes,

Archbishop of New York

Copyright, 1930

THE AMERICA PRESS



PREPARATORY SERMON

In the Name of the Father and of the Son and of the

Holy Ghost, Amen. Eternal and most august Trinity, Fa-

ther, Son and Holy Ghost, we stand before You in the

wretched misery of our own sins and nothingness, and hum-

bly pray that every thought and word and action of ours

during these three most sacred hours of prayer may be

wholly devoted to Your greater honor and glory. Amen,

Jesus of Nazareth, having loved His own and loving

them to the end, at the supper table last night took in His

sacred hand the bread and gave thanks and blessed and

broke and gave to His disciples saying: “Take ye and eat;

This is My Body which is given for you.’’ And in like
manner taking the chalice after He had supped. He gave

thanks and gave to them, saying: “Drink ye all of this for

this is My Blood of the New Testament which shall be
shed for you, and for many, for the remission of sins. This

do ye as often as you shall drink for a commemoration of

Me.” And bidding them farewell in the most sincere words

that have ever fallen from human lips. He went up from

the city to the Garden of Gethsemane to pray. There He

struggled with the agony of death until His sweat became

as drops of blood trickling down upon the ground. With

garments red in His own blood and betrayed by a traitor

Apostle’s treacherous kiss, He was seized and dragged be-

fore the assembled Council of the High Priest. Condemned

by the priests of His Father’s Temple, as a criminal and

an outcast. He was reviled and blasphemed during the long

hours of the night in His prison dungeon. This morning He

was hurried from Pilate to Herod and back again to Pilate,

^

and hooted at as a fool through the streets of the city He

loved so well. And Pilate, finding no cause against Jesus,

took Him and scourged Him. Mocking His claim as a King,

they clothed Him in the white garment as the King of Fools

and crowned Him with a crown of thorns. He was con-

demned to death, as His own people preferred Barabbas, a

3



4 AT NOON ON CALVARY

murderer, to Him, and called down His Blood upon them-

selves and upon, their children. Carrying His own Cross

He is led to this hill of Calvary, the place of execution, and

is about to be crucified here between two thieves.

“Greater love than this no man hath than that a man

lay down his life for his friend.” Jesus of Nazareth is

laying down His life for you. Draw near in reverence and

in loye to the death scene of the truest friend you have.

A vast throng is already here on Golgotha. Some of them
know not Jesus of Nazareth arid are mere curious lookers-

on. I trust that none of you is among this group this after-

noon. If mere curiosity has brought you here, God grant

that you will return home when the third hour has passed,

changed in heart and changed in soul, striking your breast

and saying: “This is indeed the Son of God.”

Others are here and many, indeed, who know Jesus of

Nazareth. They have heard His wondrous teachings, and

have seen the marvelous workings of His Divine power and

love. Some are here whose eyes He opened to the light of

day. Some to whose ears He gave back the music of their

loved ones’ voices. Some have climbed this hill to whose

palsied limbs He gave health and strength. Some are here

who saw Him raise the dead to life. They know Him and

once loved Him, but are here today, fickle followers of the

mob, to jeer and to blaspheme and to call down His Blood

upon them.

There close to the Cross with the instruments of torture

in their hands are the soldiers of Rome, the hired execu-

tioners, and with them all the Judases of the world who sell

their souls for worldly pleasure, and their God for gold.

Over to the left, chuckling in their triumph, are the false

Priests of God’s Temple. And, with them today, all those

who find Christ and Christ’s principles in the way of their

own greed and gain, their pride and selfish, cowardly sen-

suality, and cry: “Away with Him! Crucify Him! Crucify

Him!”

This is a world’s tragedy and the whole world has a part

in it. Every man, woman and child is standing in one of the

groups on Calvary today. Where do you stand? “He who

is not with Me is against Me.” There can be no compromise.



AT NOON ON CALVARY 5

We are not against Christ and so have not as yet found

our place. Far over to the right, just at the brow of the hill,

at the edge of the crowd, stand the holy women and Mag-

dalene and John and Mary the Mother of Jesus. There is

our place! We may feel like cowards and hypocrites, but

Magdalene the sinner bids us come, and Mary, our Mother,

holds out her arms to welcome us. Standing next to the

Mother of Jesus we will watch and listen and pray during

these three sacred, solemn hours: “Mary, help us to realize

that your Son Jesus is doing all this for love of us. Teach

us Mother what we can do for love of Him.’’

“This is, indeed, the Son of God.” “Yes, we believe

that Thou art Christ, the Son of the Living God.” And be-

cause of this belief since all time is ever present to God,

we know, Jesus of Nazareth, that as You hang on Calvary’s

cross we today are as vividly present to You as the jeering

crowd and the hireling soldiers and the traitorous Priests

and the faithful group about your Blessed Mother. We
know that every sigh of ours will soothe Your Sacred Heart,

that every prayer of burs will make reparation for the jeers

and the insults and the blasphemies, that every pain of ours

will soften the burden of Your sorrow, and every tear of

ours will sweeten the bitterness of Your grief. Oh! Mary,

Mother of Sorrows, let us stand close to you and see what

you see, hear what you hear and feel what you feel here on

Calvary. Oh! make us realize and be crushed at the malice

of bur sins that can inflict such sufferings on your sinless

Son, that we may sorrow with Him as you do, that we may

mingle our tears with yours. “Mary kept all these things,

pondering them in her heart! ” So will we spend these most

precious and most sacred hours, pondering with Mary the

Mother of Jesus, pondering over every wound and every sor-

row and every dying word of our best and truest Friend, her

Son and our Lord, until they sink deep down in our hearts,

that, learning what He has done for love of us, we may be
inflamed to do all we can for love of Him and dedicate and
consecrate ourselves forever to Jesus of Nazareth, King of

our hearts.



FIRST WORD

^^Father forgive them, for they know not what they do^

The executioners gather around Jesus. He is stripped

of His garments and, as Isaias pictures Him, like a lamb,

the Lamb of God, before His murderers meekly lies upon

the cross. Oh! Mother Mary, help us to pray with you

and to sorrow with your suffering Son as we look down upon

the wounds and the deep holes left by the scourging, on the

rugged bruise on His shoulder from the weight of the cross,

on His thorn-crowned Head with the blood still oozing and

clotting over His sacred face. The worst torment of all is

about to be inflicted on Him. One of these brutes grabs His

hand, and bringing it over the hole in the cross, with well-

aimed blows drives the nail through sinew and muscle and

flesh. A tremor of most intense pain passes through our
Saviour’s Body and the fingers contract convulsively around

the nail. Then the left hand is affixed. And now the feet,

which had been drawn up in pain, are violently pulled down,

and with a splitting sound the nail is driven through the in-

step into the wood. Jesus of Nazareth is nailed to the

Cross. A look of horror and of anguish comes over Mary’s
face. ^^And Mother Mary, this is your Boy! There lies

your Babe of Bethlehem and He is doing all this for love of

me! Oh! tell me Mother, what can I do for love of Him?”

Before Pilate and Herod, Christ was silent. In the

dungeon last night as the servants of the High Priest

mocked Him, Christ was silent. During the scourging and

the crowning with thorns, Christ was silent. While carry-

ing His cross to Calvary He spoke but once when He told

the women of Jerusalem not to weep for Him but for them-

selves and their children. The Son of God is being mur-

dered. He is silent no longer but turns to His Father to

make His last request. All Heaven is listening for the dying

wish of the only begotten Son of God. Hell’s minions are

leagued against Him, pride and jealousy, avarice and lust,

anger and hatred, like ravenous wolves are gathered around

Him, devouring His Flesh and drinking His Blood. But

there is no cry for vengeance. There is no cry to Heaven

6



AT NOON ON CALVARY 7

for justice. No cry for pity on Himself or for freedom

from pain. The dying wish of the Son of God is a plea

of infinite love and of mercy: Father, forgive them, for

they know not what they do.” And the great Heart of

Christ is not satisfied with asking once. He is repeating

this same prayer all the time that He is lying there on the

cross with His eyes fixed on Heaven. For every blow of

the hammer: “Father, forgive them, for they know not

what they do.” He looks towards Annas and Caiaphas and

the Pharisees and, turning His eyes to Heaven, even for

these He prays: “Father, forgive them, for they know not

what they do.” The same refrain and the same prayer for

mercy on the souls of men.

The cross is roughly raised and cruelly let down into

the hole in the rock with a thud that sends an agony of

pain through every nerve of His sacred Body and makes

our Blessed Mother shudder and almost faint away. There

He hangs, the Lamb of God, being slain for the sins of the

world. He sees beyond the circle of His executioners, be-

yond the crowd gathered on Calvary, beyond the city of

Jerusalem. He sees down the ages into every country, into

every city, into every home, into every human heart. He

sees the sins of all the world.

You are present here before Him; every deed and

thought and word of yours in all their mean, selfish, un-

grateful and heinous details. He sees all your sins of sloth

and of ingratitude and of selfishness, all your lies and your

deceits, all your intemperance, and your self-indulgence, all

your thefts and all your lusts. Your sins are murdering

Jesus Christ. Your sins nailed Him to the cross. He opens
wide the hands your sins have so brutally mangled and as

the blood trickles down He pleads with His Father in

Heaven for mercy on your soul: “Father, forgive them, for

they know not what they do.” For very shame we hang

our heads. Knew not what we did! Only too well we knew

it. Lord Jesus Christ! Base ingrates we were! We knew
not what we did simply because we deliberately turned

our backs on You and tried to forget what You have done

for us.

Last night. Lord Jesus, at the Supper Table, You left



8 AT NOON ON CALVARY

us a memorial of Your Passion. “Do this in memory of

Me.” Lest we forget, Lord Jesus, You instituted the

Blessed Sacrament of the Altar that every morning in the

history of the world this great sacrifice of Calvary might

be repeated; that as the Divine words, “This is My Body,”
reecho ceaselessly around the world. You might be there.

Lord Jesus our Saviour, ever reminding us of what Your

sacred Body is suffering for us. Looking out from the

Calvary of our altars on a world steeped in Your own most

precious Blood, yet sunk in jealousy and hatred and selfish-

ness and lust, blaspheming You by giving to pleasure and

to honor and pride the glory and homage that belong to

Your Heavenly Father alone^—from the whiteness of the
Host ever holding out to Your Father the deep wounds in

Your hands and Your feet and Your side. Your Sacred

Heart is ever pleading for mercy on the souls of men:

“Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do.”

Ohl all ye sinners of the whole world, hearken to the prayer

of your bleeding, suffering Saviour. Lose not courage!

Lose not hope! Christ is bleeding for you! Christ is

pleading for you! His Blood will not be shed in vain. The

Father will forgive for His dying Son’s sake. If only you

want to be forgiven. “Body of Christ, be my salvation.
Blood of Christ, fill all my veins. Lest I forget! Lest I
forget! ” We will not forget; we will not crucify our loving
Saviour, if the Sacred Body and Blood of Christ is our

daily food and drink. Jesus of Nazareth has done all this

for love of me. What am I doing for love of Him?



SECOND WORD

^^This day thou shalt be with Me in Paradise^

There are three executions on Golgotha today. High

on the ^^hill of skulls” three crosses stand out against the

dark, angry sky. On two of them hang Judea’s most noted

criminals. They were caught red-handed in their .crimes

and were justly tried and condemned. Pilate in trying to

hide his own weakness and lack of justice ordered Jesus

to be crucified between these two criminals that He might

appear like them to be paying the just punishment of crime.

Thus another prophesy is being fulfilled: ^^And with the

guilty was He reputed.” There stand the High Priests

and the Pharisees gloating over their victory and enjoying

their full revenge: the Prophet of Galilee, the Wonder-

worker, He who gloried in last Sunday’s triumph when the

people greeted Him with waving palms and the children

sang ^^Hosanna to the Son of David,” He who boasted that

He could destroy the temple and build it up in three days,

He who said that He was the Son of God—hangs there in
the place of honor among thieves, the most despised of

the three.

In the strange darkness that is settling over Calvary

Jesus is deaf to the insults of the mocking Priests and the

Pharisees. He is pleading for His companions in torture.

He wants their souls ! His Sacred Heart is crushed as one

of the robbers blasphemes Him, saying: ^Tf Thou be Christ,

save Thyself and us.” Christ’s answer is a whispered prayer,

as though He did not hear: ^^Father, forgive him, he knows

not what he says.” But the other thief would not stand

the insult and answering,
^

^rebuked him, saying: ‘Neither

dost thou fear God seeing that thou art under the same

condemnation. And we, indeed, justly, for we receive the

rewards of our deeds. But this Man hath done no evil.’ ”

—

The only words of kindness spoken to Jesus on the Cross,

As He hears them He turns His thorn-crowned head and

looks into the eyes of the thief. From the grateful Heart

of the Good Shepherd in return for one little word of kind-

ness there goes forth into the soul of the sinner God’s own

9



10 AT NOON ON CALVARY

gift of faith and of hope and of love. And in the light of

that faith, where thousands of eyes are blind a murderer

and a thief sees with the clear vision of an angel of God

and makes his act of heroic faith, undaunted hope and

devoted love: ^Xord, remember me when Thou shalt come

into Thy Kingdom.^’ A prayer that comes from the very
depth of love.

‘Xgrd, remember me—^just remember me, for Your
thought of me will be my joy and my sufferings will be as
nothing if only I know that You are thinking of me.’’ And

the Heart of Jesus is moved. His ears do not hear the

blasphemers, they only hear these words of one who in a

moment has learned to love Him. It is worth all Calvary’s

pains to hear him say, ^‘Remember me,” and Christ in answer

looks in love on the thief and His sacred lips utter the

words that bring the light of Heaven into the gloom of

Calvary, that bring joy and hope into every sinner’s heart,

that teach the secret power of trusting prayer of faith and

the blessing of suffering with Christ: ^‘Amen I say to thee,

this day thou shalt be with Me in Paradise.”
Mary looks up. Her tears of sorrow are mingled with

those of joy. For the Good Shepherd, all bleeding, has

found a lost sheep. Christ’s first victory is won. Her heart

sings her love song of triumph: ^^My soul doth magnify the

Lord.” Magdalene looks up into the eyes of the Master

and into the face of the thief. She knows the thrill of a

forgiven soul and blesses God and the lips that bade her go

in peace. The thief looks into the eyes of Christ. He had

asked but to be remembered. He is given Heaven in return.

Oh! ye sinners and sufferers of all the world, hearken

to the lesson of mercy Christ is preaching to you from the

Cross. A man went out from Jerusalem this morning ac-
cursed and condemned, was tortured and crucified as a

criminal. Day has hardly passed its noon hour when it

finds him a saint—canonized by God Himself. Every trial
God sends, every suffering with which He blesses you, even

your very sins, can bring you nearer to Calvary and to

Christ. The most marvelous promise ever made by God

to man was made to a crucified murderer: ^^This day thou

shalt be with Me in Paradise.” Learn from the Good



AT NOON ON CALVARY 11

Thief to acknowledge your sins and in your trials and afflic-

tions not to try to tear out the nails but to look into the

face of your crucified Saviour and say: ‘T deserve it—He
hath done no evil—Xord remember me/

Today a stranger, an outcast, Dismas the thief, hangs

on a tree and is saved. Today a friend, a consecrated

Bishop of God, an Apostle of Jesus Christ, Judas Iscariot,

hangs on a tree and is probably damned. It is the

mystery of God^s mercy and man’s perversity. Christ is

dying for Judas and is pleading with the Father to forgive

him. The loss of Judas’ soul is breaking the Heart of the

Master. The Apostle is damned because he is resisting

grace and despairs of mercy. The thief is saved, because

he hopes and asks for mercy.

Look! there is another hanging on a tree today. He is

hanging on Christ’s left, just as near as the one to the right.

Both hear Christ’s prayer for mercy: ^Tather, forgive

them, for they know not what they do.” Both see His

infinite love and patience, both are sprinkled with His

precious Blood and yet one blasphemes and the other loves.

Christ wants them both. Christ loves them both. Christ

is dying for both. How can their bodies suffer the same
torments so near to Christ and their souls be so infinitely

far apart? Suffering can sanctify or suffering can damn our

souls. Happiness can sanctify or happiness can damn our

souls. The issue depends on us. It all depends on whether

in our joy and in our sorrow, in our smiles and in our tears

we curse or bless the God who sends us both. One thief

thinks only of his body and in his pain becomes so selfish

that he blasphemes his God. The other humbly accepts

his pain as the punishment of his crime and thinks only of

Christ and of his soul.

Oh! Saint Dismas, for thus we can salute you, since

Jesus Christ has canonized you, teach us poor sinners in

the midst of our sufferings to pray: “Lord, remember me.”

Teach us even in the very darkness of our sin to whisper:

“Lord! remember me.” Teach us to place our joy and our

hope and our strength in the loving remembrance we hold

in the Heart of Christ. Teach us in the trials and the

temptations and the sorrows of life to look into the eyes of



12 AT NOON ON CALVARY

our crucified Saviour and to place all our trust in Him and

His Kingdom: ^‘Lord, remember me when Thou shalt come

into Thy Kingdom.” Teach us in all the poverty, injustice

and miseries of life to trust Jesus of Nazareth to make up

for it all when the crucifixion of life is over. Teach us to be

unselfishly kind and thoughtful of others. Oh! Mother

Mary, pray for us sinners now and at the hour of our death

that we may hear your Son say to us: ^^This day thou shalt

be with Me in Paradise.”

Jesus of Nazareth has done all this for love of me. What

can I do for the love of Him? For the love of Him I can

trust Him in the vivid remembrance of sin and spend

each day of my mortal life so living that His Kingdom may

come in my heart and in the hearts of others.



THIRD WORD

^‘Woman, behold thy SonI Son behold Thy Mother

T

It is drawing near the final hour. The silence of death

is oyer the city. A solemn stillness rests over the hill. In

the deep darkness of this noon-day night all nature is con-

vulsed at the death of its God. ^The wages of sin is death.’’

And the sinless Son of God is paying the penalty for the

sins of men. Agony of soul and suffering of body are tell-

ing on Him. His head is drooped in weakness and His

breath is coming fast. Jesus of Nazareth is dying. Fear

has seized upon the crowd. They are dispersing and moving

slowly toward the city. Christ’s prayer for forgiveness is

Still ringing in their ears and they cannot forget His words

to the thief. But it is well that they are going. Mary can

come closer now and Magdalene can take her place at the

blood-stained feet of Christ and there shed her tears of

repentance and of love.

“There stood by the Cross of Jesus, Mary His Mother.”

If our hearts shudder at the thought of Christ’s sorrow,

how can Mary His Mother stand and look at Him suffer?

You mothers know what it means to be at the bedside of a

sick, suffering child. But the agony of your hearts is satis-

fied by being able to soothe a bit of the suffering, to ease

the pain and dry the tears of your loved one. But what

mother could stand and see her boy murdered? “There

stood by the Cross of Jesus, Mary His Mother.”—Where
else would Mary be? In the sacred days of Nazareth Christ

had revealed this day to her and she had yearned for it,

as He did, out of love for us. For almost three hours she

has been standing here in the silence of her heartbroken

anguish.

She can come closer now and can look up into the face

of her Boy. Oh! for the days when in the silence of rap-

tured love she spent hour after hour looking into His baby

face. “And Mary kept all these things, pondering them in

13



14 AT NOON ON CALVARY

her heart/’ So now at the foot of the Cross she ponders

these things in the bitter sorrows of her heart. She can

feel the pain of every wound and bruise and sore. She

looks at His hands and His feet torn and bleeding from the

nails, His whole Body quivering in pain.

She sees the Blood oozing out on the crown of thorns,

and oh! how she yearns to take the poor aching head of

her Boy, to soothe its pains, to wipe the Blood and dirt

and spittle from His eyes, to bathe His parched lips. Yes,

He suffered in the manger, but there she could take His

cold, quivering little Body and wrap it closely to her own,

and warm it at her very heart, and kiss away His tears and

wreathe His baby face in smiles. But now—she can only
stand and look.

If that were all it would not be so bad. But the Mother

must listen to the blasphemous insults heaped upon her

Boy. In the secret of her heart she adores Him. She

hears the curses and the blasphemies, and she bows her

head and joins her prayer with His: ‘Tather, forgive them,

for they know not what they do.” Oh! At Bethlehem,

my Boy, you had the Angels sing Your lullaby and Your

glorious song of triumph. Now You only hear insults and
curses. At Bethlehem You had the simple shepherd folk

kneel at Your manger-crib and adore. Here Your own

people, the people whom You loved and served and healed

and fed, passing under Your cross revile You as an imposter

and a malefactor. In Bethlehem You saw the strange

Kings from the East lay their treasures at Your crib. Here

the Priests of Your own country see You given gall and

vinegar to drink, see You crowned as a mock King and

blaspheme Your Kingship—and are glad.”
But now all is quiet. Many of the crowd have gone

and only a few soldiers remain as guards; Mary draws

even closer to the Cross. We have sinned and in as much
as we have sinned we have brought this sorrow and agony

to the Hearts of Jesus and Mary. We stand back! We
dare not draw any nearer to Mary our Mother and the

Cross, for our sins are murdering her Boy. Our presence

would only add to her torture and to His.

During the days that followed the armistice a young



AT NOON ON CALVARY 15

American officer was billeted in the house of a Catholic

family. From the very start they made him feel at home.

Orders came one day for review and dress parade and when

the good mother heard of it she began to clean and press

one of his uniforms. The young officer was playing with

the children at the table nearby, The mother was busy

at her work when the iron struck something hard in one

of the pockets. Removing it she found a medal with three

initials scratched in the corner. She looked at it for a

moment, pressed it to her lips and bowed her head. The

young officer looked up in surprise and asked: ^Why,

mother, what is the matter?” She held out the medal and

asked: ^Where did you get this?” “Oh! I took it from

the body of the last lad I killed.” “And that was my boy,”
she said and kissed it again in a heart-burst of tears. She

placed the medal lovingly on the mantle and went back to

her pressing.

“There stood by the Cross of Jesus, Mary His Mother.”

When we see her and realize what we have done our impulse

is to run away and hide ourselves in shame. That is what

Judas did in his despair. But Mary is looking from us to

Jesus ahd is praying for us. She bids us, the murderers of

her Boy, to come and stand by her side. One sinner is

there already—Mary Magdalene; and another hangs on a
cross. It is a solemn moment. The dying Son is about to

speak to His Mother. He looks on Mary and as her eyes

lovingly follow His, He turns and looks on John, the be-

loved disciple—and on you. His parched lips open, and we
hear the whisper of these words of love: “Woman, behold

thy Son, Son behold Thy Mother.” Christ’s dying gift to

His Mother. Christ’s dying gift to the world. “Woman,

behold thy Son.” And Mary stands forth the Mother of

Sorrows, the Mother of sinners. She brought forth Christ

in Bethlehem without pain; she has brought us forth on

Calvary in the agony of death. Jesus of Nazareth has done

all this for love of you. He has so loved you and has so

stamped the image of God His Father on your soul with

His precious Blood that His own dear Mother will look on

you the sinner and see in you her children and the agony

of Calvary will make you all the dearer to her. “Woman,



16 AT NOON ON CALVARY

behold thy son’^ and her arms are open wide to receive you

—you who murdered her Boy.
Jesus is whispering to you from the Cross. He has done

all this for love of you. He is going to ask you now to do

something for love of Him. It is His dying wish: ^^Son,

behold thy Mother.’’ “And from that hour the disciple

took her unto his own.” So standing here under the Cross

of Jesus take His Blessed Mother for your own. In His

sight dedicate and consecrate yourself to her: “Lord Jesus,

my dying Saviour, I will take her unto my own; I will
honor her and I will love her. She will be my Mother. No
word or deed of mine will ever wound her heart or bring

the blush of shame to her cheeks.”

This is Christ’s dying wish, and you can do nothing that

will please Him more. “If I be lifted up, I will draw all

things to Me”; and lifted up on the Cross of Calvary, He

knows that the surest way of coming to His love is through

Mary His Mother. He knows that through Mary’s love

human love will be kept pure and manly and divine. He

knows that if you love her your little ones will love her

and in her love their hearts will be pure and their faith

will be strong. Calvary and all its pains and insults and

blasphemies are worth the love of a pure boy’s and a pure

girl’s heart. Oh! He knows that it is hard to bring up

children and to train them in the love and the fear of

God. He knows what it costs—all the toil, all the anxious

prayers, all the daily sacrifices. But, oh! you devoted

mothers and fathers of the children of God, looking down

on His Blessed Mother, Jesus sees you. From the Cross of

Calvary the bleeding hand of your dying Saviour is blessing

you and your homes.

He sees this great country of ours; how all the powers

of Hell are trying to rob His little children of the priceless

gem of their purity and their faith and in the love of His

Heart he is calling to them from the Cross: “My children,
behold your Mother.” He sees them gathering around Mary

His Mother in the person of you self-sacrificing. God-fearing

parents, in the person of those pure-hearted, courageous

women who clothed in the habit of His Mother have conse-

crated their lives to His little ones. And as the dying eyes



AT NOON ON CALVARY 17

of Jesus see the pure eyes of little children looking up to

Him and their pure little hearts throbbing in love for Him,

His own Heart is glad in the agony of Calvary. His wounds

become sweet and there is music in His dying ears—the
music of your sinless children’s voices singing of Mary and

of Him.



FOURTH WORD

God! My God! Why hast Thou forsaken Me?”

A TERRIBLE silence is hanging over Calvary. Deep, dark
clouds have gathered over the city and are rolling up the

valley. The sun is eclipsed in the very brilliancy of its

noon-d^y glory. The crowd moving toward the city stops

its murmuring and hurries to seek shelter and protection.

For there is a distant rumbling in the heavens and bursts

of lightning, and the very earth is quaking. Strong soldiers

of the legion of Rome standing guard beneath the Cross

grow faint and afraid. Christ, too, seems afraid. There is

a look of agony on His face and His body is trembling and

twitching. Magdalene clasps His quivering feet and shakes

with fear as she looks into His agonized Face livid and pale

against the dark lowering sky. ^^Oh, Mother Mary, what

does it mean? Your face is pale, too. There is a look of

death in your eyes and your lips are quivering. Oh, Mother

Mary, what does it mean? Draw near to the Mother of

Sorrows. She of all others knows the sufferings of her Boy.

She looks up at His mangled Body. She points out blood-

stains there, not made by the scourging or the weight of the

Cross or the thorns or the nails. They are the red marks

of Gethsemane, made there last night in the agony in the

Garden when His soul was crushed with sorrow, and His

breaking Heart pumped His life’s Blood through every

pore of His Body until it trickled to the ground.

Many think only of what Christ suffered in His Body.

But Christ’s Soul is as human as His Body and it suffers

more. His agony of Soul began in the Garden and is being

completed here on the Cross. Agony of soul would have

killed Him in Gethsemane, had not the Divinity sustained

His human Soul. Agony of soul is actually killing Him

here on Calvary simply because He is withdrawing from

His soul the sustaining power of the Divinity. Jesus of

Nazareth is dying. He who could not despair is letting the

bitterness of despair wound Him. He who could not doubt

is dying of a broken Heart. ^‘He hath suffered because He

willed it.” Hanging on the Cross He still is God. Through

18



AT NOON ON CALVARY 19

the wonderful mystery of the Incarnation and the mysterious

bond of the human nature and the Divine He has it within

His right to fill His human Soul with the strength and the

consolation and the hope and the joy of the Vision of God.

Hovering around Him in adoration are the twelve legions of

Angels waiting for the word to confound His enemies and

to comfort Him. But of His own choice, looking down the

ages into all the broken hearts of all the world, looking

down into all the eyes cold and icy in despair, looking down

into souls in their anguish, cursing their God for the evils

sins have brought, looking down on prayers unanswered and

hopes of a lifetime shattered, looking down into homes

wherein the shadow of death lies and into other homes

wherein are heard the sighs and the moans of helpless little

children and of parents in whose hearts the fire of love is

quenched—seeing all this anguish of human minds and
yearning to suffer every pang that any human soul will ever

have to bear, of His own choice, because He loves us. He

shuts off the flood-gates of the Divinity and opens wide

the gates of Hell and makes His poor human Soul, already

weary with the sufferings of His Body, be so overwhelmed

with the flood of the filth of sin and with the darkness of

despair and of doubt, that in its human weakness it feels

as if the very God of Heaven has abandoned it. “My God!
My God! Why hast Thou forsaken Me?’’

Angels sang to that human Soul of His amid the tears

and the loneliness of Bethlehem. Angels comforted that hu-

man Soul of His last night in the Garden. But the Angels

are held back now and the very demons of Hell are let loose

at it and are wilder in their fury than the human demons

who have covered His Body with sores and stripes and

spittle and mud.

From the blue sky over the River Jordan and from the

full effulgence of Heaven at Thabor the voice of His Father

called to the four corners of the earth: “This is My Beloved
Son in whom I am well pleased.” In the darkness of Cal-
vary, when He needs a Father most and the strong, sustain-

ing power of a Father’s love. He shuts out the light of

God’s Heaven and hides the Face of His Father until His

human Soul, crushed and overcome, cannot stand the strain



20 AT NOON ON CALVARY

and a heart-rending cry pierces the darkness of Calvary,

makes the earth quake and reechoes in the vaults of Heaven

until the very Angels tremble,—the most piteous cry of a
human soul that ever reached the ears of God: ^^My God!

My God! Why hast Thou forsaken Me?”
“Jesus knowing that His hour had come . . . having loved

His own loved them to the end.” He wants to feel every pain

of body, every anguish of mind and every agony of soul that

human nature is capable of. He does not want any single

human being to suffer any pain of body or anguish of soul

that He has not suffered before him. He suffers all this

agony of soul for love of me, and for my strength and con-

solation in the hour of trial and despondency. On Calvary

Christ our Lord out of love for me is concentrating in His

soul all the anguish and the despair of every human heart.

I was passing down the long wooden corridor of one

of our large base hospitals during the World War when the

Captain in charge of the ward sent one of the ward-masters

to call me. A mother had just arrived after a day and a
night of weary travel only to find that her son had died

several hours before and that his body had been already

taken to the morgue. After the fatigue of the long journey

this shock was more than she could stand and the Captain

felt that she was losing her mind. The wild blank stare

was already glaring in her eyes. Not a sound. Not a tear.

I then placed a small crucifix in her hands, and at the sight

of Jesus crucified she heard the priest’s voice where all

others had failed to rouse her. “Oh! dear Lord. Father,

give me some hope! My boy is gone! The joy of my life
is dead!” I then pointed to the crucifix in her hands, tell-

ing her that I carried the Blessed Sacrament with me, bade

her make her act of resignation to Our Lord and to leave

her boy in the hands of His Blessed Mother. As the Cap-

tain timidly opened the door he stood there filled with won-

der at the picture. The mother’s head was bowed towards

me in reverence for our Lord in the Blessed Sacrament and

her tears were flowing down over the image of her crucified

Saviour as she pressed it resignedly to her lips. That after-

noon a mother began a sad journey home, but in her heart

was a joy that conquered death. Our record book had shown



AT NOON ON CALVARY 21

that her boy had received the Sacraments. The Heart

of the Son of Mary, broken on Calvary and still beating

within the Host, had soothed the agony of her despair.

And so all of us in our deepest desolation can hear from

Calvary the voice of Christ: “My God! My God! Why
hast Thou forsaken me?’’ Groping in the darkness of our

mental anguish and our disappointment and our despair

we shall feel the gentle touch of a Mother’s hand, who will

lead us to where Magdalen, once crushed in soul and an out-

cast in despair, kneels in comforting tears at the Master’s

bleeding feet.

Christ letting His Soul feel the bitterness of despair calls

to you from Calvary when the very lights of Heaven are

quenched and hope is dead in your soul; when after years

of prayers you give up in despair: “Oh! why doesn’t God

hear me,” an echo comes from Calvary; another “Why, my
God, my God! why hast Thou abandoned me?”; when, un-
der the burden of an unending sorrow and in the torrent of

your ceaseless tears, your human powers of endurance give

way and you cry, “Oh why does God treat me thus?”

—

a voice full of tears and of sorrow and of anguish joins your

own: “My God! My God! Why hast Thou forsaken Me?”
Jesus of Nazareth knows how you feel. His heartbroken

cry from Calvary is the only answer to the humanly unan-

swerable “Why” that goes up unceasingly from heartbroken,

sorrow-driven mortals to the ears of God. Christ knows

how you feel. He has felt it Himself. Jesus of Nazareth

has done all this for love of me. I will do all this for love

of Him. I will trust Him even in my despair. I will bear
agony of soul for Him who bore agony of soul for me and

who for me died of a broken Heart,



FIFTH WORD

^7 thirsr

Standing here under the Cross, our Mother Mary is pon-

dering in her heart. She is pondering over every sore and

wound and bruise. Whispering words of consolation as

only a mother can, she is asking where the pain is most

severe. “Do the nails hurt worst. Lord Jesus, my Boy?
I see that the flesh is torn away and You are hanging by the

bare and bruised bone. Oh, no! Then it must be the crown

of thorns that is tearing into Your very brain and will not

let You rest Your head. Oh! tell me, my Boy! Tell
mother where you are suffering most?”

Jesus opens His mouth to speak to His Blessed Mother.

His tongue is all parched and swollen. He can hardly

speak and is barely able to whisper the words: “I thirst.”

That is His greatest physical torture. He has lost blood

in the scourging and the nailing to the Cross. He has been

weakened by the long journey to Calvary. Nothing has

passed His lips since the Supper last night. He has been

hanging here for almost three long hours and, with fester-

ing wounds, a violent fever is devouring His whole Body.

It inflames His lips, parches His throat, consumes His lungs

and is like a fire feeding on the very marrow of His bones.

And all this pain and agony is centered in a consuming

thirst, a thirst that is so intense that the Body seems in-

sensible to all other pain. “Mother Mary, and this is all

for love of me. Tell me. Mother, what can I do for your

Boy and my dear Lord Jesus?”
It is not impatience that makes Our Lord complain of

His thirst. One more suffering is possible. One more in-

sult can still be added. And so weakened unto death, with

eyes blood-shot and weary. He whispers in a feeble voice:

“I thirst,” knowing that the vinegar would be given Him to

burn into the wounds about His Face and to corrode His

throat and that the more bitter vinegar of insult and de-

22



AT NOON ON CALVARY 23

rision would be hurled at Him by those He loved. But lov-

ing to the end and yearning to suffer everything for us, He

whispers: thirst.”

Oh God! at whose word there sprang up the rivers and

the sparkling fountains, You thirst and there is no one to

give You a drop of water. Oh God! who gave Your peo-

ple water from the rock in the desert and gave Moses the

wonderful rod that made the bitter waters sweet, they are

giving You vinegar in return. Oh Christ our Saviour! You

can see before You some of those whom You fed on the

mountain and to whom You had said in loving kindness: “If

any man believe in Me, he shall not thirst forever.” You

thirst—and they are thanking you with the bitterness of jeers
and of insults.

Our Blessed Mother stands helpless. Her Boy is burn-

ing up with fever and dying of thirst and she cannot even

moisten His burning lips. Oh! why should He suffer thus!

oh! why should His Mother’s heart be broken! Every pain

is a love token to us. Every word bears a message of love

to us. Draw near to Mary and watch and listen, ponder

and pray.

Coming to Calvary this morning Christ had said to those

who wept for Him: “If in the green wood they do these

things, what shall be done in the dry?” If sin has wrought

such an agony of suffering on the sinless Body of the Son of

God, what will the fires of Hell be to the sinner himself?

To save us from the consuming fires of Hell, He thirsts. To

quench in us the devouring flames of passion. He thirsts.

He is the victim of sin. He is atoning for every sin of every

human heart. His innocent Body is suffering for all our sins

of sensuality and self-indulgence; He thirsts to redeem us

from the slavery of our senses and to save us from the

tyranny of our passions,—to teach us to conquer ourselves.
Jesus of Nazareth, You have thus treated Your sinless

Body for love of me. I will not indulge the passions of my
body against You, but for love of You I will conquer my-

self, my unruly appetites, my lower cravings and baser
passions.

But there is another thirst that Christ is suffering that

all the waters of the world cannot quench. It is a thirst



24 AT NOON ON CALVARY

of soul and it is really this thirst that makes Him complain.

He looks down from His Cross into the hearts of all men.

He is dying for love of them and by few is He loved in re-

turn. His Sacrfed Heart yearns to be loved. He is giving

His life’s Blood for love and from most men, even from

those who know Him and pretend to love Him, He receives

coldness and indifference and ingratitude in return. Hearken

to the' call of the Heart of Jesus in the deep, dark silence of

Calvary: “I thirst,”—yes, thirst for the love of your hearts.
A little boy, 6 years and 8 months old, was taken seri-

ously sick at his play. He was rushed to the hospital and

had to be operated on immediately. As the little one was

coming out of the ether he was twitching and writhing in

pain. A terrible fever was devouring his little body and
with piteous, dilated eyes he looked up at the good Sister

and begged for a cup of water. His lips were parched, his

tongue was thickly coated and dark and dry. No word of

the good Sister could soothe him; the moistening of the lips

and the washing of the mouth did not satisfy him. Bitter

were his tears and pitiful his pleading for a cup of water.

The Sister asked me to try to calm him. Leaning over his

bed I said: ^‘Now Jimmie, Sister can’t let you drink any

water for an hour or so.” His little hands clenched the

counterpain and his wide open little eyes looked up to me

in an agony of pleading: ^^Oh Father! Please get me a drink

of water.” On the wall there in the children’s ward, right

opposite Jimmie’s bed, was a large Crucifix. I pointed to it

and said: Jimmie, who is that?” He turned his eyes to

the Crucifix, and looking for a moment, said: “Jesus.”

“Wasn’t Jesus thirsty, Jimmie, when He was hanging on

the Cross?” He bowed his little head in reply. “Well,

Jimmie, you tell Jesus now that you know what He must
have suffered and that you will offer up your thirst to Him.”

And that little mite of a child fixed his eyes dimmed with

tears on the image of his crucified Jesus, and with his little

body twitching in pain and his little hands clenching the

coverlet, he uttered no word of complaint and never once

asked for a drink of water. He was doing it for Jesus cruci-

fied. “I thirst”—and in answer a little baby waif of a
child in the ward of one of our city hospitals is stretching



AT NOON ON CALVARY 25

his little hand away back to Calvary and quenching the

thirst for love in the Heart of his Saviour.

Jesus of Nazareth is doing all this for love of him. A
mite of a child can do all this for love of Him. What am /

going to do for love of Jesus crucified?



SIXTH WORD

Is Finished!^

Three years ago, as the sun was setting over the hills

near Bethany, beyond the Jordan, John the Baptist stood

talking with his disciples. Just at the brow of the hill over

against the sunset, a tall white-robed figure was passing.

The Baptist pointed Him out with the strange words of

Isaias the Prophet: “Behold the Lamb of God! Behold Him

who taketh away the sins of the world.” In this dismal

noon-day twilight of the darkest day that ever settled over

this earth, the same Figure stands out ghastly white against

the angry sky high on Judea’s hill.

Jesus of Nazareth from Calvary calls back through the

centuries to Isaias and back to John the Baptist on the

Jordan’s banks. “It is finished”—the Lamb of God has paid
the price. From Calvary’s cross He then looks down the

centuries that are to come. Out against the glow of each

morning’s dawn the same white-robed Figure is passing

across the margin of the world, keeping pace with the rising

sun: “Behold the Lamb of God,” clothed in the whiteness

of the Host. Behold Him who takes away the sins of the

world. Jesus of Nazareth, having loved His own has loved

them to the end. “It is finished.” He can do no more.

“It is finished.” The Lamb of God has paid the price!

The work of Redemption is finished. All that the Prophets

foretold has been accomplished. What God promised in the

Garden is fulfilled. There a human hand stretched out to

the forbidden tree in proud defiance against its God, closed

the gates of Heaven and called down the curse of God on

every human soul. Here the Divine Hand of God stretched

out in humblest obedience on the tree of sacrifice, opens the

gates of Heaven and stamps in its own Blood every soul

that wills it with the seal of salvation and with the mark

of the Living God. “It is finished.” The Lamb of God is

taking away the sins of the world.

“It is finished.” His enemies are conquered. “Have

confidence, I have conquered the world.” He looks to Mary

26



AT NOON ON CALVARY 27

His Mother and through the merits of His death He sees

the serpent of Hell crushed and conquered under her heel.

^Tt is finished”—His mangled Body has conquered the lust
of the flesh. ^^Body of Christ, save me.” ^Tt is finished”

—

with a stable for His birth and a borrowed grave waiting to

receive His murdered Body He has conquered the lust of the

eyes for pleasures and for gold and for the good things of

earth. ^Tt is finished”—He has conquered the pride of life
by “humbling Himself, becoming obedient unto death, even

to the death of the Cross.” “It is finished.” All enemies

—

the devil, the flesh and the world are conquered. Jesus

turns to Mary: “It is finished. Mother,”—all is finished that
I revealed to you in the sacred days of Nazareth ^s boyhood

home. Jesus lifts His eyes to His Father in Heaven: “It is

finished—Father, I have finished the work Thou gavest Me
to do.”

Jesus looks down the valley to the city. There in all its

splendor stands the Temple, but it is gruesomely white in

the darkness that envelopes the city, white like the ghost of

a past that is forever gone. The Holy of Holies is holy

no longer. The blood of lambs flowing in Solomon’s Tem-

ple will no longer appease the living God for the sins of

man. “It is finished.” Behold the Lamb slain on Calvary’s

mound. He takes away the sins of the world!

And Jesus turns from Solomon’s Temple and the Holy

City and sees spread out before Him the cities and the ham-
lets and the wide stretches of country over the face of the

earth. He sees His Cross of Calvary multiplied a thousand-

fold as on as many altars His sacred Body and Blood are of-

fered for the sins and the souls of men. “It is finished.

This is My Body that shall be delivered for you. This
is My Blood that shall be shed for you.” “It is fin-
ished”—never more will sin cry unanswered to Heaven for
vengeance, for from our altars His Blood will ever cry for

mercy on the souls of men. “It is finished”—the Sacrifice
is offered that will never end, but ceaselessly from the rising

to the setting of the sun the Sacrifice of Calvary’s Cross

will be offered as a clean oblation to God on our altars, until

Jesus of Nazareth comes in glory with that same Cross to

judge the living and the dead.



28 AT NOON ON CALVARY

Jesus turns His eyes towards His executioners. ^Tt is

finished.” Malice can devise no new torture. There is no

spot on His sacred Body free from wound or pain. And all

this for love of me. “What is there I ought to do more for

my vineyard and have not done?” Is there anyone can say
that Christ could do more for him? “Greater love than

this no man hath, that a man lay down his life for his

friend.” “It is finished.” Love has gone its limit. It can

do no more. And all this for love of me.

Oh! come close to Mary and the Cross. Put your hand

there over the Sacred Heart of your dying Saviour before It

has ceased to beat and learn from the last throb of the

Heart of Jesus how much He loves you. And as you draw

back your hand, red with the Blood of Jesus Christ, raise

it to the Father in Heaven and before the world, standing

beneath the Cross of Christ, repeat with Him: “It is fin-

ished.” I am finished with sin that is crucifying my loving
Saviour. “It is finished”—red with the Blood of Jesus Christ,
this hand of mine never will be stretched out to do Him

harm, or to lead me or others into the occasion of sin. “If

I be lifted up I will draw all things to Me.” Draw me to

Thee Lord Jesus with the strongest bonds of love and of

Blood and in the strength of Your love, bid me to be per-

fect as Your Heavenly Father is perfect, that believing

in You I may do the works that You have done, that ever

partaking of the unending Sacrifice of Calvary, eating Your

Flesh and drinking Your Blood in the most Holy Sacrament

of the Altar, “I may ever live in You and You in me.”

Each day of my mortal life I will look to You dying for
me and say “It is finished”; Christ, this day I have lived

for You, there is no sacrifice neglected, there is no mark

of love passed over, there is no enemy of soul unconquered.

“I have finished today. Lord Jesus, the work Thou gavest

me to do.” Jesus of Nazareth, Thou hast done all this for

me. I can. Lord Jesus, do all this for Thee.



SEVENTH WORD

Father, into Thy hands I commend My Spirit.

The final moment has come, the moment promised in

the Garden, the moment foretold by the Prophets, the

moment longed for by the great Heart of Christ. All earth

is wrapt in the horror of the noon-day darkness; birds are

screeching and animals are running mad in fright. The

three crosses stand out like specters against the blackened

sky. Jesus our Saviour is dying! Draw up close to Mother

Mary in all reverence and love, and watch her dying Son.

He is dying for you. He is loving you unto the end. The

struggle of death is upon Him. He is in His agony. His

bloodshot eyes gaze fixedly into space. His Body droops

and sags. The centurion says: ^^He is dead!’’ But Mother

Mary answers:—-“No! not yet!” For lo! by some tre-
mendous effort He is lifting His head! A Divine light is
coming into His eyes! He looks from thief to thief and

then straight up into the dark Judean sky and with a voice

that can be heard ringing in the valley and reechoing along

the distant hills. He cries: “Father, into Thy hands I com-

mend My Spirit.” Those were His last words and “bowing
His head He gave up the ghost.”

This loud voice pierces the heavens and is the cry of

triumph over sin and over death and over Hell. It is a

cry to the Father that His Son is coming. The golden star

that the Angels fixed over Bethlehem the night the Father

gave His only Son for the freedom of the world is shining

behind the dark clouds over Golgotha where the Angels

are waiting to welcome Him home. He is coming battle-
scarred and victorious—the Good Shepherd red with the
Blood He shed in seeking His sheep and with the lost sheep

upon His shoulder—the penitent thief of Calvary and
the penitent sinners of all the world. He cries out with

a loud voice that rings down the valley of despair to

Judas and to all those souls who think that God will

not pardon them, that Christ’s all-merciful Heart can-

29



30 AT NOON ON CALVARY

not love them. He cries out in a loud voice! It is His

last cry to the impenitent thief, the last pleading call of

God’s mercy, the last anxious plea of God’s love to those

who will not listen, to those who will not understand.

At the sound of Your cry. Lord Jesus, the graves around

Jerusalem are opening and giving up their dead. Oh!

Jesus, from Your cross today before You die let Your

cry carry down the streets and into the homes of our city

and pierce the hard rocky tombs of the hearts of those we

love but in whom all love of You is dead. Make them,

Jesus, love You, and in Your dying power and the grace of

Your most precious Blood call them forth to a new life

that the peace You came to give may reign in our homes.

^Xamb of God who taketh away the sins of the world,

give us peace.”

Jesus of Nazareth is calling out in a loud voice to every

human heart. We are all sentenced to death. We air must
go through this agony. Christ is calling to us all to teach

us how to die, even as He has taught us how to live.

“Father, into Thy hands I commend My spirit.” Thus
death since Jesus died is but the home-coming of a child

to its Father’s arms. “In the hour of my death call me
and bid me come to Thee that with Thy Saints I might

praise Thee for ever and ever. Amen.” “Holy Mary,

Mother of God, pray for us sinners now and at the hour

of our death.”

Jesus has lowered His eyes. A tremor is passing over
His Body. The end is near. But as last night in the

Garden the soldiers could not approach until He gave them

leave, so now death dare not lay its cold hand upon Him

until He bows His consent. “He was delivered because He

willed it.” He bows His head to His Father in Heaven

—

“obedient unto death.” He bows His farewell to Mary His

Mother.—There is a gasp! His arms are extended convul-
sively, the whole Body sinks down, the knees fall in. He

bows His head and lets it sink to His breast. Jesus of

Nazareth is dead. Mary is childless. We are saved.
At the foot of the Cross beneath the mangled Body of

Jesus kneel John the Beloved Disciple and Mary Magdalene

and Mary His Mother. They are the first adorers of the



AT NOON ON CALVARY 31

Holy Cross: ‘We adore Thee, O Christ, and we bless

Thee, because by Thy holy Cross Thou hast redeemed the

world.” They rise and Magdalene leads Mary to a little

mound near the Cross. Silently and reverently St. John

and Joseph of Arithmathea and Nicodemus and the centu-

rion lower the Body of Jesus and place It in His Mother^s

arms.

“And Mary the Mother of Jesus kept all these things,

pondering them in her heart.” Back over thirty-three years

her ponderings go. The stars are shining softly in the

clearest sky that ever mirrored God’s beauty. She stands

by an empty manger, when lo! the solemn silence of earth’s

most peaceful night is broken by the whispered songs of

Angel choirs^—as Mary holds up her Babe on Bethlehem’s
hill to bless the world He had just come to save. So Mary

ponders now in this most horrible darkness as amid the

thunder of Heaven and the rumble of earth she sits child-

less by a bloody Cross. And Mary on Calvary’s hill holds

out the lifeless arms of her murdered Boy to bless the world

He has just died to save.

Oh! Mother Mary! What does it mean? Is this

what my sins have done to your Sweet Babe of Bethlehem?
Ask Him to bless me. Mother, as you bathe His eyes and

ears and mouth and tongue and hands. Pray for me,

Mother, for it was my hands with their greed and lust that
drove in the nails. It was my tongue and its impatience,
unkindness and blasphemies that made Him thirst. It was
my ears, encouraging scandal and full of pride that made
Him bear the insults and the blasphemies. It was my eyes,
seeking self and pleasure that made His all bloodshot and

sore. It was my sensual body that crucified the sinless
Body of your Boy.

Jesus of Nazareth has done all this for love of me.

What can I do. Lord Jesus, for love of Thee?—^As in the
thunder of Sinai the Father gave His Ten Commandments to

Moses, so now in the thunder of Calvary comes Christ’s

answer from His Mother’s arms—a silent challenge from
the open wounds in His hands and His feet and His side, a

silent pleading from His lifeless eyes:—^“If you love Me
keep My commandments”—“If any man will come after



32 AT NOON ON CALVARY

Me let him deny himself and take up his cross daily and
follow Me.”

At noon today, Jesus of Nazareth, You climbed this hill

of Calvary crowned with thorns and carrying Your cross.

At this third hour, kneeling at Your Mother’s feet, I bow

my head to be crowned with Your blood-stained crown of

thorns and, in the strength of the Holy Eternal Spirit, I

take up Your cross daily to follow You, in a blameless,

spotless Christian life. You have done all this for love of

me. If You have thus treated Your sinless Body for love

of me, I will be done with my sinfulness for love of You.
With Mary Mother as my witness, I here and now con-

secrate and dedicate myself to You, Jesus of Nazareth, King

of my heart.

Eternal and most august Trinity, Eather and Son and

Holy Ghost, ^^it is well for us to be here.” I thank Thee

that Thou hast revealed these things to the little ones and

the weak ones. Father glorify Thy Son that Thy Son may

glorify Thee. As Thou hast given Him power over all flesh

that He may give everlasting life to all whom Thou hast

given Him, and this is everlasting life that they may know

Thee the only true God and Jesus Christ whom Thou hast

sent.



Famous Writers Appearing in

AMERICA
THE NATIONAL CATHOLIC WEEKLY

G. K. Chesterton Fulton J. Sheen 1

Hilaire Belloc Brother Leo
|

Wilfrid Parsons Katherine Bregy
j

John Wiltbye Mark 0. Shriver
!|

Elizabeth Jordan D. M. O’Connell

C. W. Thompson W. F. Cunningham

W. I. Lonergan Francis Carlin

Myles Connolly William T. Walsh

John M. Stuart E. A. Fitzpatrick

Daniel A. Lord Eugene Weare

David Goldstein Paul L. Blakely

P. F. Scanlan F. McCullagh

Paul H. Furfey John LaFarge

Thos. F. Coakley A. H. Atteridge

Philip H. Burkett Enid Dinnis

Dr. J. J. Walsh Agnes Repplier

F. M. Crowley G. H. Sherwood

F. X. Talbot Joseph Husslein

Thos. F. Meehan A. W. McCann
Ronald Knox George Barton

T. F. Woodlock E. F. Garesche

Austin O’Malley Sr. M. Eleanore

C. L. O’Donnell Michael Earls

Charles Phillips George Johnson

R. C. McGoldrick P. J. Carroll

Peadar O’Donnell John Gibbons

J. W. Fitzpatrick Leonard Feeney
Richard Reid Theo. Maynard

G. C. Heseltine E. J. Cooley

Masie Ward Thos. O’Hagan

It is interesting to note the very large percentage of lay writers

among the contributors, which proves—if any proof were needed

—

that it is a weekly wherein one may find the layman equally at
home with cleric and Religious. Though the editorial staff is Jesuit,

the number of articles by non-Jesuit writers, in 1928 totaled 7lV2

per cent of the whole and the individual non-Jesuit authors^ 77 per

cent of the whole. Such cooperation from the lay scholarship of the

world makes America a splendid clearing-house of Catholic thought.

Write for Sample Copy

1

THE AMEEICA PRESS, 461 Eighth Avenue, New York, N. Y.



For Lent
At Noon on Calvary
By BERNARD A. FULLER, SJ.

The Death Watch of Our Saviour
By JOHN CONWAY, SJ.

Christ Suffering

By PHILIP H. BURKETT, SJ.

The Sacred Heart
By JOSEPH HUSSLEIN, S.J.

10 cents each—$7.00 per 100

Lessons for Lent
(Reprinted from the Catholic Mind)

5 cents each—$4.00 per 100

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461 Eighth Avenue New York, N. Y.

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