And the consecrated hosts were scattered across the floor and defiled.
May the most holy, most sacred, most adorable,
most incomprehensible and unutterable Name of God
be always praised, blessed, loved, adored
and glorified in Heaven, on earth,
and under the earth,
by all the creatures of God,
and by the Sacred Heart of Our Lord Jesus Christ,
in the Most Holy Sacrament of the Altar.
The story of the desecration of the Blessed Sacrament in Milan brought me to my knees. I feel an intense sorrow. I feel deeply sorry for having strayed from my early love as well ...
Initially, at the first stage of my conversion so long ago, I was irresistibly drawn to the Sacred Heart of Jesus in the Blessed Sacrament - the images of his Sacred Heart attracted me sensibly, the tabernacle held a certain magnetism, until one day at Mass I couldn't resist the invitation "come to me" and I received him, with the convincing power of the Holy Spirit that he was truly present in the Holy Eucharist. Days later, literally 'seized by mortal anguish' I went to confession ... and was completely reconciled to the Church. In retrospect, I liken it to the Gospel story of the lepers who were healed in that encounter with Christ - and then were told to go show themselves to the priest. It was a grace outside the ordinary form of things - an exception - not the norm, to be sure.
Afterwards, I wanted to be with him in the Blessed Sacrament always - I sought him out and spent hours in adoration and prayer. When I couldn't be there, I united myself to his silent loving action in the Blessed Sacrament by frequent spiritual communion, reading of the Scriptures - even carrying a small copy with me wherever I went, and praying Our Lady's rosary as unceasingly as possible.
Though over the years I have fallen and strayed, I never could leave him in the Blessed Sacrament, nor let go of the chain of Our Lady's rosary, and never could I shake myself from the embrace of her scapular - that sign of her presence and protection. There was never any other place for me to go - to who else can I go? Jesus is present in the Blessed Sacrament.
When I receive him, I can't leave him, I can't ignore him within my soul - I stay as long as I can to thank him for coming under my roof. I beg him not to go, because it is late and the day is far past... He knows my infidelity my weakness - my malice - yet he comes to me.
How can I leave him alone? How can I let him be maltreated? How can I let him be bartered for selfish self interest? Yet I'm as powerless as he has seemingly made himself to be in the Blessed Sacrament. I can only love him in return for his love which moved him to unite himself to me - even in my sins. I can only try to stay with him in response to his presence with me, with men, within the Church.
I pray for the grace to return to my early love.
In my early love I fled the bars, the friends who scoffed, even the jobs that kept me away from Christ. I renounced every occupation, every habit, every inclination that would keep me from receiving my Lord in Holy Communion. I frequented the sacrament of penance so that I would be able to receive him.
I pray all who call themselves Catholic will do likewise and at least try to repair for the grave sins committed against Our Lord in the Holy Eucharist, the Blessed Sacrament.
“The one who holds the seven stars in his right hand and walks in the midst of the seven gold lampstands says this: “I know your works, your labor, and your endurance, and that you cannot tolerate the wicked; you have tested those who call themselves apostles but are not, and discovered that they are impostors. Moreover, you have endurance and have suffered for my name, and you have not grown weary.
Yet I hold this against you: you have lost the love you had at first. Realize how far you have fallen. Repent, and do the works you did at first." - Revelation 2
Eternal Trinity, Godhead, mystery deep as the sea, you could give me no greater gift than the gift of yourself. For you are a fire ever burning and never consumed, which itself consumes all the selfish love that fills my being. Yes, you are a fire that takes away the coldness, illuminates the mind with its light and causes me to know your truth. By this light, reflected as it were in a mirror, I recognise that you are the highest good, one we can neither comprehend nor fathom. And I know that you are beauty and wisdom itself. The food of angels, you gave yourself to man in the fire of your love.
You are the garment which covers our nakedness, and in our hunger you are a satisfying food, for you are sweetness and in you there is no taste of bitterness, O triune God! - St. Catherine