A Sad Complaint

by Brent Klaske

“O My people, what have I done to you or wherein have I molested you? Answer Me.” Strange, pitiful cry of the heavenly Father wounded by the waywardness of His rebellious children! Strange, indeed, yet stranger still that same sad lament on the lips of the Gentle Master!

“What have I done to you? Wherein have I molested you?” Our Divine Friend, our heavenly Benefactor, kind, with more than a father’s strong kindness; loving, with more than a mother’s tender love; prodigal in His bountiful giving even to the last drop of His own life’s blood—and yet His very children treat Him as if He were a tyrant who by wanton cruelty has deserved their hatred!

And myself? True, I may not have to accuse myself of anything so wicked as that. I love our Lord, of course I do, and yet I cannot deny that He has ample cause to address to me that heartbroken query: “What have I done to you?”

With creature friends I take such care to give no cause for pain, but with Jesus—well, at times I just seem not to care. I disregard His precious love to take a creature’s love instead. His gifts, unstintingly bestowed, I grasp with scarcely a word of thanks—at times I even use those very gifts to wound Him. The promises I sometimes make, I break at will, and even utterly disregard His commands. His company I seldom seek, and when I do I am so very rude. And when He comes to visit me I act almost as if He were a nuisance in my life.

Ah! Worthy indeed am I of that sad complaint: “What have I done to you?” And what shall I answer?

O Sweetest Heart of Jesus, I implore that I may ever love You more and more.

Excerpt taken from Minute Meditations by Fr. J.E. Moffatt, S.J.

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