The Eighth Saturday: The Third Sorrowful Mystery – Jesus is Crowned with Thorns

Gospel Readings:

Matthew 27

Mark 15

John 19

MEDITATION

1. Consider, my soul, how the executioners, having tired of beating the Saviour, remove him from the pillar all covered in blood.

Observe your Jesus, ferociously wounded, his whole body an open sore, as He goes about searching for his clothes which the soldiers, in stripping him, had tossed here and there in anger and malice. He is forced to cross the Praetorium and undergo, in passing, the mocking and insolence of these unworthy men who add insult to injury. He suffers their insults, just as He had suffered their blows, with meekness, modesty and invincible patience. Finally having found his clothes, he gets dressed. Though He presented a picture worthy of the compassion of the hardest of hearts, those ravishing wolves were not softened. Indeed, to torment him even more, they invented a type of punishment until that time unknown, and which has never again been used even in the most barbarous martyrdoms.

This is the effect sin has on the soul committing sin shamelessly and with pleasure. A sin committed leaves behind itself the desire to commit others. Even when one is tired of sinning, one nevertheless is not satiated; and though one may no longer possess the energy to sin, there remains the sinful will.

One of the greatest illusions of sinners is to believe they can free themselves of temptation by satisfying it. Committing a sin has only the effect of increasing in us the inclination that draws us towards sin. In fact, according to the observation of St. Gregory (XXX Moral. 12), sin which has not been destroyed by penance draws us by its very weight to another sin. The soul, which loses God’s grace by sinning, also loses the strength to resist the occasions of sinning; and the body is less capable of restraining its passions, once it has tasted the pleasure of following after them.

Therefore, those scoundrels reached the point of losing every human sentiment. The Jews had accused Jesus of wanting to declare himself King of the Jews. Now, having beaten and made a mockery of him, they expose him to the hooting of the crowd, as a farcical king.

My soul, enter the courtyard of the Praetorium. Join Mary who, as the faithful companion of the pain and insults Jesus undergoes, is, she too, in this furious crowd’s midst, and hears their shouts and curses. Ask her for the grace of understanding this profound mystery and profiting by it, and alleviate her pain somewhat.

Again they remove Jesus’ clothes, which have already stuck to the sores recently received by the scourging. Again this blood begins to flow from all parts. They cover him with a worn-out purple robe, plait a crown with long thorns ending in hard and very sharp tips, and place it on his head. Moreover, so that it not fall, they fix it on with the blows of a stick. The thorns penetrate on all sides, in his forehead and temples, and the blood spills over his face, neck and entire person. These thorns cause him such acute pain that, were it not for divine virtue supporting him all the way to the cross, He would have died. This pain was to last until he’d have died. Oh what pain! Were a single one of these thorns driven into our head, what would become of us? And yet, as St. Anselm affirmed, the venerable head of Christ, the most splendid and delicate among man’s, was pierced by a thousand pricks.

He truly loved us and “has borne our griefs and carried our sorrows” (Is 53:4).

2. If you have ever suffered violent headaches, stop for a moment and consider how great this pain must have been for your Saviour, among the others He had to bear. The sole thought horrifies us!

And what would have caused compassion, what would have been impossible to witness without causing horror in the vilest of animals, served only to excite insolent laughter and cruel insults from those barbarous hearts. Jesus lets himself be led, undressed, and crowned, as they wanted, without saying a word or offering the least resistance, with superhuman patience. Closing his eyes on account of the extreme pain, He offers everything to the Eternal Father.

Here too the word of the Prophet Isaiah is fulfilled: “I gave my back to the smiters, and my cheeks to those who pulled out the beard; I hid not my face from shame and spitting” (Is 50:6).

Here Jesus’ eyes were not blindfolded as in Caiphas’ house: here He saw the insulting homage they were rendering to him, He saw the blows they were preparing. Yet He suffered all with the utmost silence, with steadfast patience.

“And they stripped him and put a scarlet robe upon him, and plaiting a crown of thorns they put it on his head, and put a reed in his right hand. And kneeling before him they mocked him, saying, ‘Hail, King of the Jews!’ And they spat upon him, and took the reed and struck him on the head” (Mt 27:28-30).

And because Jesus bore all of this with great patience, they gave in to their rage.

Oh, my proud, vile and sinful soul, consider how great your sins are which have been expiated by the very severe chastisement and punishment of the Eternal Father! Jesus mixed his tears with his blood, which He shed for you. Thus he expiated the delicacies of your body, the pleasures of your guilty flesh, the luxury of your clothes, the consequent vanity, and the pride they inspire in you. Thus He expiated the desire to dominate which is in all hearts. Thus He expiated all the sins conceived and preserved in our dishonest minds, in our memory, in our imagination and spirit. Thus your loving Saviour expiated the idolatrous care so many worldly persons take to adorn their proud and sinful heads, delighting in showing them off before the public gaze and alluring admirers, when they are merely dust. He merited for us the grace of patience and mortification, the grace of disdain of the world, its vanities and all its glory. He merited for us the grace of humility, kindness and patience.

My soul, in temptations, in projects of fortune, ambition and revenge, in your impure thoughts or imagination, think of Jesus crowned with thorns. And whenever you feel pain in the head, think of the sins you have committed; and, to atone for them, join the little you must undergo to the great things that Jesus himself bore for you.

Oh, my Saviour, what a great share I have had in those torments You suffered in the Praetorium! I myself placed that crown of thorns on your head, mocked you, spat in your face, struck your head, made your blood spill and caused you such cruel pain. Shall I ever be able to thank you for such love?

3. “So Jesus came out, wearing the crown of thorns and the purple robe… Pilate said to them, ‘Here is the man!’ When the chief priests and the officers saw him, they cried out, ‘Crucify him, crucify him!’” (Jn 19:5-6).

O my divine Jesus, I wish never to crucify you again. I adore you as my true King, I recognize you, my sovereign Lord, in the midst of all these wounds, this shame and disgrace You have taken upon yourself that I may be invested with glory. Was not the blood pouring from your body sufficient, O my Saviour, without spilling that of your head also?

The head is the part of the body which distinguishes the individual, where a person’s features are found, where all the vital senses and organs unite, where beauty is revealed, where joy and sadness, health and sickness, and all the other sentiments of the soul appear. Precisely this part, O Lord, You allowed to be wounded by the thorns and bathed in blood. By these marks shall I recognize you, O loving Spouse of my soul, “the fairest of the sons of men” (Psalm 45:2).

Is this the face that draws sighs of yearning from the Angels, and offered delight to Joseph and Mary your Mother, now become the most afflicted among women? I adore, O God of my heart, I adore the ineffable love that has reduced you to this state, and infinitely thank you for such great compassion.

How wretched am I! Does this not yet suffice to make me love the cross, the insults and injuries, and all else that make me similar to you, O God of my soul? When troubles arrive, I am overwhelmed; when they last, I am downcast; when I am freed of them, I rejoice. When will you, O my God, destroy the weakness of my flesh by the strength of your love? All my thoughts aim toward the comforts of my body, the sweet things of life, the vain esteem I have of myself, the pleasure I take in the praises of others. I then forget how wretched I am, and how disgusting to your eyes. When shall I hate myself as much as I deserve?

You have been crowned with thorns while I flee from anything causing me the least pain!

O Most Holy Mother of God, perfect imitator of the Saviour, how greatly are you being crushed by sorrow! If even your innocent Son has been crowned with thorns, what will become of me who am so proud and delicate? Help me, O Refuge of sinners, to imitate his example; obtain for me the will and the strength to bear all the sorrow He shall wish to visit upon me, for I know I cannot belong to you without the cross and the thorns.

My Guardian Angel, and you O Angels of peace, who beheld my Saviour so disfigured and bleeding, and who clearly see the price of my Lord’s thorns, have mercy on a sinful and wretched soul seeking in the place of exile what can only be found at home; while, to be crowned with glory in Heaven with you, this soul must be crowned with thorns here on earth! Amen.

VIRTUE – Patience.

REFLECTION – With kindness bear the ill-tempered members of your family, who will never be lacking, for these temperaments are necessary for the exercising of virtue.

Bear weariness and boredom of spirit, melancholy and temptations, and even illness, without complaining and going from this person to that to speak about your woes or seek their pity.

Likewise bear the slander and scorn of others without becoming angry; in this way you shall find peace.

EJACULATION – O Mary, my life and hope, what would become of me were You to forsake me?