Ignatius asks us to see how Jesus on the cross identifies with wounded creation and accepts the task of reparation, healing and transforming the damage we have been doing to ourselves and our planet. Ignatius would say Jesus loves us so much that he wants to show that love by identifying with us as a victim of our own sin. Jesus is also trying to make us conscious of the power of divine love to integrate our wounded goodness (and that of everyone else) into himself and then to move from a preoccupation with sin to a focus on grace. …
The twentieth-century Jesuit priest and scientist Pierre Teilhard de Chardin would add that Jesus identifies with our wounded goodness because he views us as an important part of his universal body. He invites us to move beyond worrying about our inadequacies and failures in the past because he wants us to focus on what needs to be done in the future to complete God’s project [of reconciliation] and our potential contribution to it (Eph 1:9-10 and 2 Co 5:15).
–Louis Savary, The New Spiritual Exercises
What would it be like
to hear Jesus say,
“I know what you’re going through”?
He, too, was misunderstood,
betrayed, abandoned, and beaten.
He, too, carries the scars
of what was done to him.
He also carries the scars of
what we have done to others,
the earth and ourselves.
What would it be like
to feel him near,
full of forgiveness,
understanding,
and compassion
for our human condition.
What would it be like
to embrace our wounded goodness,
let go of blaming others
for wounding us,
let go of blaming ourselves,
and accept that
being whole,
being free,
being Christlike
doesn’t mean being
sinless.
How might our lives be different
if we let go of
the disappointment and shame
of failure?
What if we let go
of expecting more from others?
What do we hope
would happen if we were
perfect?
That, finally, we would be loved and accepted,
valued and respected?
Do we think, ah then,
I will not feel the pain of inadequacy.
I will feel at peace with myself.
Oh, the contortions we go through
to deny
our woundedness
and
our goodness.
Perhaps that’s what we should be giving up for Lent:
the fear of imperfection.
As we let go of it now (or at least try to),
may we open to the wonder
that the divine power of Love
can integrate
our wounded goodness
into grace–
into Christ’s universal body
that is big enough
and strong enough
to repair and renew
creation.
But in this showing, Jesus gave me all that I needed.
“Sin is inevitable,” he said, “yet all will be well
and all will be well and every kind of thing shall be well.”
—Julian of Norwich, The Showings of Julian of Norwich,
translated by Mirabai Starr, chapter 27.
An Everyday Pilgrim 