I get a lump in my throat as the First Friday Mass opens with this song.
Heart of Jesus, meek and mild –
Hear oh hear your feeble child
In the tempest most severe
Heart of Jesus hear.
I had not known how to pray or what to feel before a supertyphoon. Admittedly, there had been a squeak of worry in my prayers, and many flashbacks of my Roxas and Tacloban days.
But where I fail to be a Christian of strong faith, God comes to the rescue with this love song. He sends the Holy Spirit for the right words. Gently, the Holy Spirit transforms the worry into surrender. Through a song so often repeated on a First Friday, He shows his face as the God of Eternal newness.
He prods me to call on Jesus whose heart, meek and mild, can never ignore anyone who begs and reaches out to him. By giving up his divinity to become human, Jesus identifies with my being feeble and vulnerable in a constantly shifting and threatened world. Jesus can never ignore or misinterpret or oversimplify any kind of feebleness because no one has ever become as feeble as he was on the Cross.
“In the tempest most severe,” this is where the lump in my throat weakens its hold and bursts, remembering the words of Edgar Allan Poe:
“Beauty of whatever kind, in its supreme development, invariably excites the sensitive soul to tears.”
In this case, the beauty that excites my sensitive, feeble soul is that today, in the threat of “the tempest most severe,” God is not silent.