A Sacred Heart Journey

The Solemnity of the Most Sacred Heart of Jesus

Readings on the USCCB Website

It says in today’s first reading from Deuteronomy, God has “set his heart on you and chose you.” The Sacred Heart of Jesus has become an important devotion to my family. So, even though this isn’t usually a day when I post in Little Conversations, I thought I’d share how Jesus brought my heart closer to His.

On October 16th, 2021, the feast of St. Margaret Mary Alacoque, I attended Mass in the crypt of Sacré-Cœur in Paris. People swarmed the whole hill around the Basilica of Sacré-Cœur, elbow to elbow, taking pictures, looking at the view, and meeting up to socialize. I struggled to stay with our group. I also barely knew our group – I found it hard to spot my people in the crowd. I’d met every single person in our pilgrimage group the day or two before in Atlanta or in Paris itself. I didn’t even know the name of the priest traveling with us when he celebrated Mass on October 16^th.

And on that day, I didn’t have a devotion to St. Margaret Mary or to the Sacred Heart. I didn’t know the battles and the shame that St. Margaret Mary faced to have the devotion to the Sacred Heart recognized and included in the liturgy. At some point prior to that pilgrimage, my husband had gifted me a necklace with the image of the Sacred Heart stamped on it. So, I packed it and wore it to Sacré-Cœur that day.

I didn’t spend a lot of time before that pilgrimage learning about the places we were going. So, I knew almost nothing about Sacré-Cœur before I went inside. (I know, I sound like the most clueless of clueless people right now. I actually usually do a lot of research and organizing for trips and vacations. My organization for this pilgrimage extended to matching my jewelry to the location/devotion and making a reading list that I got about one quarter of the way through before I left. I leaned into spontaneity for this trip and I regret nothing.)

Going from the bright sun outside to the dark interior of Sacré-Cœur blinded me. Disoriented, jet-lagged, and alone, I wandered towards the massive dome of the basilica. The hush of the place impressed me first. Then I read a sign asking us to respect the quiet of the place because the community has continuously celebrated the Adoration of Jesus Christ in the Most Holy Sacrament of the Altar at Sacré-Cœur since 1885. That’s when I finally looked around and saw where I was.

I was dazzled as I took in the massive structure, looking for Our Adorable Lord in order to genuflect to Him in greeting. I spent the next thirty minutes before we moved down to the crypt for Mass staring. How great it would be to say that I prayed or worshipped or adored, but all I did was stare and try to absorb. On repeat in my mind and heart I wondered at the faith that had built this place and carried it through. In a city that seemed so thoroughly secular, the most sacred Love has been Adored for almost 140 years. Generations of love shared and expressed and sacrificed for.

I hold that memory of awakening in Sacré-Cœur close to my heart.

My oldest son and I had gone to confession on June 24, 2022 as the news of the Supreme Court’s decision to overturn Roe v. Wade broke. It was a decision I had never expected to happen in my lifetime. Born after the decision, it seemed irreversible to me. After confession that day, memory after memory of the effects of abortion in my own life came up for me, and I silently meditated on the pain and fear I knew reverberated that day, holding my own vigil for how this world fails women, families, and children.

There is a small, relatively young religious order which has a convent near our home. Part of their charism is to the Sacred Heart of Jesus through worship. They host monthly Mass and Adoration with praise music which the sisters lead. Sisters playing music and leading singing is a whole category of liturgical worship that I didn’t know I needed. I had already planned to attend Mass and Adoration on the Solemnity of the Sacred Heart of Jesus that evening, but after the events of the day, I knew I needed to.

That Mass was packed. It was joyful. And it the midst of the crowd, I knelt and, truly and simply, turned over all my memories and meditations of that day to His Sacred Heart. Although joy hung in the air, thick around me, and maybe because that joy surrounded me with peace and safety, I presented my sorrow over the pain of abortion to Our Lord. I showed Him the memories of my life. I showed Him friends and family hurting. I showed Him the fear and anger, the ways motherhood breaks instead of heals. I showed Him all the systems limiting women’s options and the never-born babies that I miss. Nestled deep in His Heart, I profoundly sensed how He heard me, how efficaciously God would use the ripples of my prayer. How His Heart beats here on earth through prayer and only prayer.

Although the evening was four hours long, it ended in the blink of an eye because that’s what it’s like when chronos and kairos sync. My heart grows out of His, I realized. He sanctified my sorrowful memories.

I wanted to understand His Heart better so that I could devote myself better to Him.

A few months later, in September, a friend invited me to join a group of women reading I Believe in Love by Father Jean C.J. d'Elbée. At the end of the ninth conference on the Eucharist, Fr. d'Elbée writes about the Enthronement of the Sacred Heart of Jesus in the home encouraged by Father Mateo Crawley. Fr. d'Elbée quotes Fr. Crawley as saying, “Love the Heart of Jesus; love Him foolishly; love Him above all things, immersing all your affections in Him without fear of sacrifice…We love more, we love better when we love Jesus. Natural affection is transformed, made greater, made God-like. Love is the entire gospel: it is the entire Jesus, in the arms of His Mother and the arms of the Cross.” I had never heard of the Enthronement or of Fr. Crawley, but I got that kind of holy goosebumps which mean I need to learn more.

I deep-dove. My internet search led me to the National Enthronement Center and a religious sister who shipped to me four books about the Enthronement (one written by Fr. Crawley and three more about him and the Enthronement), several brochures, prayers, and a certificate. Before I had even mailed a check to pay for them (yes, the NEC only accepts checks, no electronic forms of payment), the sister had shipped me my order.  

At the same time, another friend invited us to connect with a local priest who helps families enthrone the Sacred Heart in their homes. I kid you not, all of this happened within the same month.

This is when I did a new thing for me. I paused. My instinct when I discover a new thing I really like is to DO IT NOW (with as much enthusiasm as those all caps implies). I do not wait. I jump.

But not with this. The heart is a tender place, easily bruised and not inclined to switch allegiances quickly. I wanted to allow for space to be wooed. I wanted to know Jesus wanted this for me.

And not just for me, but for my whole family. The enthronement, as envisioned by Fr. Crawley, isn’t a personal commitment. It’s a family one. Fr. Crawley, in the book Jesus, King of Love, meditates deeply on the Holy Family’s home in Bethany. He urges, “Remember here all that I have said about the Bethany home, and the fidelity of the Heart of Jesus to a family which knows how to share life’s sorrows and joys with Him. O Master, multiply Thy Bethanies!” Enthroning the Sacred Heart asks especially for our home to become like His childhood home. In other words, this needed to be a family decision.

So, I gave Jesus, King of Love to my husband and told him about all the dominos that had knocked over in just the right way to lead me to where I was. He read the book and said, “Wait to see what you get for Christmas.” And I did, with equal parts fascination and dread, not sure what Chris meant by his cryptic response.

On Christmas morning I gasped when I opened my present from Chris – a beautiful wood carving of the Sacred Heart of Jesus, the Immaculate Heart of Mary, and the Chaste Heart of St. Jospeh. Chris had purchased this long before I’d given him Jesus, King of Love to read. In fact, we came to realize as we talked it over that day, we already had an image of the Sacred Heart for an enthronement – placed in center of the wall over our home altar. It’s an image of the Sacred Heart hammered out of tin found in the trash heaps of Port-au-Prince, Haiti, which my husband purchased after a service trip there helped him to fall in love with the Haitian people.

We had been on the same journey towards His Sacred Heart for a long time.

In January of this year, we invited over a local priest to help us bless our home and enthrone the Sacred Heart. And since then, every night before dinner we pray a daily renewal of our pledge to His Heart. I read recently that everything we contemplate in the Mass – the icons, the Word, the music, and the signs of the mystery – “is imprinted in the heart’s memory and is then expressed in the new life of the faithful” (CCC 1162). The mystery of Christ’s love imprints itself in our heart and that unshakeable memory communicates love into our lives. The memory of my heart took years to transform, to surrender to His Heart, striving to rest more and more there where it is most happy. This transformation continues to conform our home and our lives into His.

I’ve had several reminders recently that our stories of God’s presence in our lives are worth telling. Sometimes conversion happens so slowly, so incrementally, that it’s only after we’re standing on the peak that we notice we were climbing. Climbing towards the Sacred Heart has been that kind of journey for me. I can only ask Him to lead on.