Sacred Heart: Make My Heart Like Unto Thine

Cor Jesu, rex et centrum omnium cordium, misere nobis.

Heart of Jesus, King and Centre of all Hearts, have mercy on us …

Such is one of the central thirty three petitions of the Litany of the Sacred Heart.

O My Lord, Thou art the King and Centre of my heart.

And yet how I fail to honour Thee as my King …

Impatient, I fidget. Stuck in this windowless, ‘airless’ room, for tedious hours on end.

That man across from me – blathering on: he seems to think he knows it all …

Charitable thoughts do not spring easily from me, but only irritable ones.

But Thou lovest him Lord. Thy Heart is neither capable of being annoyed, nor irritated, nor bored …

Thy Heart is too infinitely alive for even a nanosecond of such hardened proclivities.

Although no doubt, Thy Heart is burdened by the entire tragedy of this man’s life.

As Thy Heart is burdened by the tragedy of my life, Lord.

As Thy heart is burdened by the tragedy of my own hardened heart, like that of every hardened heart.

Thy Heart is too infinitely alive not to feel the utter tragedy in all its fullness of every hardened heart.

No, Thy Heart is not hardened to this man.

Thy Heart is pouring out to him, day and night.

Make my heart like unto Thine …

For this I also pray, when I pray the Litany of the Sacred Heart.

But my heart is so hard.

I cannot feel this man’s tragedy, his need – burning perhaps – for attention. In my head, I see this is why he goes on and on and on. In my head, I see how he hungers.

But it is only my head. My heart is too hard and cold to feel, to really feel, this man’s desperate need for attention, for love …

But his hunger for love is no stranger to Thy Heart, his hunger for attention, his hunger for compassion … Thou knowest and feelest ever misery in his heart.

And day and night, Thy Love pours out to him, as it pours out to me …

But so often, I cannot feel Thy Love, hardened as I am. My hardened heart irritated, annoyed, bored – or simply filled with trivialities and obsessions with dark, unimportant things …

My heart hardened by the Fall of Adam. Thou knowest I cannot even begin to hope to undo this hardening, to make my heart even a little more tender, without Thy Tender Heart.

Thy Heart, pierced on Calvary …

Thy Church, born on Calvary. Thy Flesh, Thy Blood, softening the hardened, fallen heart of Adam.

And seventeen centuries later in Paray-le-Monial in France, Thy Heart is revealed to the world at large …

And so in France, was born the Cult of the Sacred Heart.

And here amidst all of this, I have been given the greatest Treasures of my life.

But this man across the room, I doubt he has scarcely heard a word of this.

All these English centuries, stripped of the Seven Sacraments. How many people in England these days, even know what a Sacrament is?

How many people know that it is now the month of the Sacred Heart and that soon we approach the Great Feast of the Sacred Heart?

No, all this has been denied them. And stripped of the Seven Sacraments, denied the Cult of the Sacred Heart, English Christianity has lighted the way to Secularism and a ‘holistic’ spirituality which reverts to spirituality prior to Calvary, spirituality prior to Thy Pierced Heart.

I had to go to Ireland, France and Spain to see what England lost.

All the more reason that my hardened heart should feel for England …

But I cannot do it by myself.

I see these things with my head. With my head.

But I need you, my Lord, to really open my heart, to really care and to really act on behalf of a civilisation falling ever more into materialism …

Foreword for Monarchy by Roger Buck

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