If Jesus would just write me off, I could also write Him off.
But His absolute refusal to reject me in the slightest degree demands something of me.
I can’t just walk away from a love like that.
It won’t permit me to fall into despair or to wallow in my shame.
His love constantly calls me back, forgives me the very moment I turn to Him even when He knows full well that I will fall again.
He insists that His love for me is not contingent on what I do (or don’t do) but is rather based on who I am.
His love is not conditional.
If it were, my response to Him could be conditional too.
But He keeps telling me that it doesn’t matter what I do; He loves me just the same.
Does that mean I can sin all I want, because it doesn’t matter?
No.
It matters that it doesn’t matter.
It matters because His love is so complete, so absolute.
It matters because He bled and died for me, for my salvation.
To do whatever I want would seem to be the height of ingratitude—to have complete disregard for a love so total.
This kind of love, by its very nature, demands a response.
My response is gratitude—deep, eternal gratitude for this love.
And I want to love Him in return with all that I am and have.
This is what moves me to want to do better, to be better, to turn to Him in my weakness, to let Him love me and save me.
This is what penance really means.
Perhaps I am more aware of this during the Season of Lent, but it is fitting at any time to reflect more deeply on this and see how I am responding to this total, complete, absolutely amazing and unconditional love of Jesus.
It doesn’t matter what I do for Lent.
He loves me all the same.
But it matters that it doesn’t matter because of what He has done for me.
Sr. Mary Catherine Kasuboski, T.O.R.
