“Come now, let us reason together, says the Lord: though your sins are like scarlet, they shall be as white as snow; though they are red like crimson, they shall become like wool." (Isaiah 1:18)
© Christina M. Sorrentino - "Padre Pio Shrine, Barto, Pennsylvania"
There is a legendary story, written by Eleanor C. Donnelly, a Catholic American poet born in the 1800's, that goes like this:
Legend of the Waxen Ciborium
A summer night in Romy, strokes of the midnight bell
Like drops of molten silver, athwart the silence fell.
Where ‘mid the misty meadows, the circling crystal streams.
A little village slumbered, lock’d in quiet dreams.
A lily, green-embower’d, beside a mossy wood,
With golden cross uplifted, the small white chapel stood.
But in that solemn hour, the light of moon and star
Upon its portal shining, revealed the door ajar!
And lo! Into the midnight, with noiseless feet, there ran
From out the sacred shadows, a masked and muffl’d man,
Who bore beneath his mantle, with sacrilegious hold,
The Victim of the altar within its vase of gold.
To right, to left, he faltered; then swift across the sward,
(Like dusty demon fleeing) he bore the Hidden Lord.
By mere and moonlit meadow his rapid passage sped,
Till, at an open wicket, he paused with bended head.
Behold, a grassy terrace, a garden widened fair.
And ‘mid the wealth of roses, a beehive nestling there.
Across the flow’ring trellis, the villain cast his cloak.
Upon the jeweled chalice, the moonbeams, sparkling, broke.
O sacrilegious fingers, your work was quickly done
Within the hive (audacious) he thrust the Holy One.
And gath’ring up his mantle to hide the treasure bright,
Flunged back into the darkness, and vanish’d in the night.
Forth in the summer morning, full of the sun and breeze.
Into his dewy garden, walks the master of the bees.
All silent stands the beehive, no little buzzing things,
Among the flower, flutter, on brown and golden wings.
Untasted lies the honey within the roses hearts.
The master paces nearer, he listens, lo he starts.
What sounds of rapturous singing. O heaven all alive
With strange angelic music, is that celestial hive.
Upon his knees adoring, the master weeping sees
Within a honeyed cloister, the Chalice of the bees.
For lo the little creatures have reared a waxen shrine.
Wherein reposes safely the Sacred Host Divine!
O happy one who listen unto this legend old
Whose snowy veil and robes of black speak of love untold.
From out the hands of sinners whose hearts are foul to see,
Behold! the dear Lord Jesus appeals to you and me.
He says, “O loving children within your hearts prepare
A hive of honeyed sweetness where I may nestle fair.
Make haste, O pure affection to welcome me therein,
Out of the world’s bright gardens, out of the groves of sin.
“And in the night of sorrow (sweet sorrow) like the bees,
Around my heart shall hover your winged ministries.
And while ye toil, the angels, shall softly singing come
To worship Me, the Captive of Love’s Ciborium.”
This is a beautiful tale that calls us to always recognize the presence of Christ in the Eucharist. If we more deeply understand that Jesus Christ, the God-man, is hidden before us in a tiny, white host, in His resurrected glory, our hearts should be set afire with an unspeakable love. We should have a burning desire to always prepare our hearts to receive the precious Body and Blood of Christ. The stain of sin; blemished and unclean; should cause us to shudder at such an evil festering so deep. It should shake us to our core even the thought of appearing in our scarlet garment before the altar of the Lord.
We cannot erase the mark of sin on our own, as it is impossible without God's grace to heal our wounds and make ourselves whole again. When we are cleansed by the waters of Baptism our sins are washed away by the blood of the Lamb, and we receive sanctifying grace, but when we commit a mortal sin we lose this precious gift. Because of God's infinite Love He sent us His only Begotten Son to die on the Cross and rise from the dead to save us from our sins. His desire is for us to spend eternity with Him in Heaven, which means that God does not abandon us.
"Daughter, when you go to confession, to this fountain of My mercy, the Blood and Water which came forth from My Heart always flows down upon your soul and ennobles it. Every time you go to confession, immerse yourself in My mercy, with great trust, so that I may pour the bounty of My grace upon your soul. When you approach the confessional, know this, that I Myself am waiting there for you. I am only hidden by the priest, but I myself act in your soul. Here the misery of the soul meets the God of mercy. Tell souls that from this fount of mercy souls draw graces solely with the vessel of trust. If their trust is great, there is no limit to My generosity. The torrents of grace inundate humble souls. The proud remain always in poverty and misery, because My grace turns away from them to humble souls." (St. Faustina, Divine Mercy in My Soul)
The Sacrament of Reconciliation gives us the chance to restore our sanctifying grace, and allows us to once again be clothed in our white, baptismal garment. Regardless of our stain of sin we can receive the Lord's mercy and pardon if we come to Him with a true sorrow of our soul filled with sincerity and repentance. Acknowledgment of our sins unlocks the door to our hearts, and we become open to receive eternal life. If we die to our sins then we can rise to new life in Him.
The confession of our sins brings us peace and serenity that consoles us by the Love of Christ. It is our desire to never commit offenses against the Sacred Heart of Jesus that brings us ever closer to Him. Reconciled to God and to the Church, as the Bride; holy and undefiled, we can humbly approach the Lord's table ready to receive the Body, Blood, Soul, and Divinity of Christ.
