FE Y RAZÓN

"Omne verum, a quocumque dicatur, a Spiritu Sancto est"

Toda verdad, dígala quien la diga, viene del Espíritu Santo

(Santo Tomás de Aquino)


SEVENTH WORD

Father, into Your Hands

I Commend My Spirit

LUKE 23:46

Karl Rahner

O Jesus, utterly forsaken, tormented by suffering, You have come to the end. To that end where everything is taken away, even one's soul and his freedom to say "yes" or "no", and hence where man is taken from himself. For that is what death is. Who or what does the taking? Nothing? Blind fate? Merciless nature? No, it is the Father! God, Who is wisdom and love! And so You let Yourself be taken from Yourself. You give Yourself over with confidence into those gentle, invisible hands. We who are weak in faith and fearful for our own selves experience those hands as the sudden, grasping, merciless, stifling grip of blind fate and of death. But You know that they are the hands of the Father. And Your eyes, now grown dark in death, can still see the Father. They look up into the large, peaceful eyes of His love, and from Your lips come the last words of Your life: "Father, into Your hands I commend My spirit."

You give everything to Him Who gave everything to You. You put everything into the hands of Your Father without guarantee and without reservations. That is doing a great deal, and it is a hard and bitter thing to do. All alone You had to bear the burden of Your life: all men, their meanness, Your mission, Your cross, failure and death. But now the time for enduring is past. Now You can put everything and Yourself into the hands of the Father. Everything. Those hands are so gentle and so sure. They are like the hands of a Mother. They embrace Your soul as one would lift a little bird carefully and lovingly into his hands. Now nothing is difficult any more, everything is easy, everything is light and grace. And everything is safe and secure in the heart of God, where one can cry all his anguish out, and the Father will kiss away the tears from the cheeks of His child.

O Jesus, will You one day put my poor soul and my poor life also into the hands of the Father? Put everything there, the burden of my life, and the burden of my sins, not on the scales of justice, but into the hands of the Father. Where should I flee, where should I seek refuge, if not at Your side? For You are my brother in bitter moments, and You suffered for my sins. See, I come to You today. I kneel beneath Your cross. I kiss the feet which follow me down the wandering path of my life constantly and silently, leaving bloody footprints behind.

I embrace Your cross, Lord of eternal love, heart of all hearts, heart that was pierced, heart that is patient and unspeakably kind. Have mercy on me. Receive me into Your love. And when I come to the end of my pilgrimage, when the day begins to decline and the shadows of death surround me, speak Your last word at the end of my life also: "Father, into Your hands I commend his spirit." O good Jesus. Amen.


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