Devotion to the heart of Christ, as a symbol of God’s perfect love for all humanity, lives deeply within the tradition of mystical or spiritual theology in the Christian Tradition.  The passage in John’s Gospel, close to the end of the passion narrative that describes a soldier thrusting his lance into the body of Jesus on the Cross, opening the heart from which poured forth blood and water, is a powerful narrative of the outpouring of God’s Spirit in the writings of John.  Only moments before John witnesses Jesus saying: “It is finished” as he “breathed forth His Spirit.”  Thus, the Church, through the centuries, recognized the infinite love of God in this gift of the Son. 

The human heart, in many cultures, has been understood to be the site of deep feelings of affection, compassion – even passion – for the beloved. The devotion to the love of God, which has been disclosed in human terms in Jesus, is often focused on the absolute fullness of human/divine generosity when Jesus pours out all that he is.  For John, “water” identifies human life, and “blood” – or its equivalent, wine – is divine reality.  The Spirit of God is the life and love of God that is ecstatic – poured out of God’s inner being into creation, especially humanity.  It is no accident that the Eucharistic cup, the blood of Christ, is so important in our ritual.

In the Lucan tradition the Spirit is made present in wind and fire – the forces of change and enlightenment.  For John the power of God is life itself, blood and water – which also bring change but are far more “staying” in their presence.  The Spirit “remains” as John’s Gospel states, like water in the earth or blood in the body – giving life to all it touches.  The symbol of Spirit, then, as Heart of Jesus, has this enormous promise of transformation and change but also staying deep within and giving perfect life.

Today’s Liturgical celebration of the Solemnity of the Sacred Heart comes in the midst of a world that is in the throes of change,  desperately seeking to remain alive. The power of pandemic disease continues to ravage the populations of nations, the forces of hatred and division deeply embedded in histories of privilege and oppression are being explosively revealed and challenged, and the power of fear creates social and economic chaos in community after community. 

But this year the Church’s liturgy, often replete with images of power and great acts of transformation discloses the solid, silent power of the deep roots of foundational love; the silent fidelity of love for a thousand generations (remember that the biblical ”thousand” is “infinite number”) found in the text from Deuteronomy.  The Second Reading from John’s first letter simply calls for us to “remain.”  To stay patiently faithful through the trauma and passages – to hold fast to the fidelity of God.  Finally, the Matthean Gospel presents the image of meekness as the symbol of power; of accepting the yoke that binds us to God’s freedom– easy and light in its tender protection of our pathway into mercy and fidelity.   

The surprise of this Feast of Love – for thus it is – is that God so loves us that Divine Presence is a haven of peace in the turmoil that surrounds our planet. 

Still unable to participate regularly in the celebration of the Eucharist, I will find the Blood and Water, the Bread of Life in a quiet hour with these passages of God’s Word on  my back deck in the midst of the city, allowing God to gently adjust the yoke that binds me to him in hope, in faith, and in a love so deep and fast that no explosion, wind, fire or flood, can remove these roots of life.  May that be your prayer as you take refuge deep in the heart of Jesus beating for infinite generations with perfect love for you.