The sun has set, Mass is ended and the Blessed Sacrament has been moved from the tabernacle to the altar of repose.
This night we remember the Last Supper of Jesus with His apostles, His prayer in the garden of Gethsemane, betrayal and arrest.
We watch and pray as He asked His companions to . . .
At the Passover the Israelites sprinkled the blood of a lamb on their doorposts as a sign that their household belonged to the Lord.
Do we do the same? Is the Blood of Christ in our hearts, is it around the door guarding against evil entry? Too often, I think, we consume the Sacrifice without truly taking Him into our hearts, or worse, have our wills directed contrary to our actions as Judas did – giving Our Lord a kiss to identify Him to His enemies, bringing Him into unloving company.
Jesus was bleeding before His enemies laid hands on Him. The Blood was not sprinkled over a door, but signed the very earth itself and the legions of angels which could have executed justice on the world waited over it for their King.
If you’re one of those to whom nights of little sleep are not foreign, try offering one of those hours each night in reparation for the sins which He bled for then. Be a companion now, since there was no one when He wished for someone to be vigilant with Him, to pray with Him, to comfort His torn Heart.
We continue to follow Him tomorrow to the Death . . .