Balthasar - A Dialectic Between Sin and the Cross

In the previous post Balthasar speaks of  our participation in the cross of Christ, "Such participation, as the Lord wishes, can go to the extremes of powerlessness, spiritual darkness, forsakeness and rejection; since these things are sharing in the cross ..." He here indicates the Ignatian roots of his spirituality. He goes on in the following to further delve into St. Ignatius' exercises as we contemplate our own sin and the sin of the world.

from pp. 298-300

But there is a dialectic in our contemplation of sin in the light of the cross: only by looking at my Redeemer can I understand the extent of what I have done. In the face of redeeming love I am pierced through by a nameless terror: I might be, indeed I am a murderer of Eternal Love; no excuses are of any avail; I deserve unconditional damnation. Beholding the handiwork of ultimate love between Father, Son and Spirit, performed for me, loveless as I am, I begin to understand that I do not belong among them, that I do not have love and thus I'm deserving of eternal wrath. Indeed, I merit destruction and banishment from the whole divine order:

"A shout of astonishment and profound love, as I think how every created thing has not refused to keep me alive. The angels, the sword of God's justice, have put up with me, protected me, prayed for me: the saints have gone on praying and interceding on my behalf: the sky, the sun, the moon, the stars, the natural elements, the fruits of the earth, birds, fish, the whole animal kingdom…; Why is not the very earth opened to swallow me, creating new hells for my eternal torment?" (Exercises, 60)  [St. Ignatius]… does not neglect to put the contemplation of general and personal sinfulness in the theological context of the redemption. Each individual reflection leads up to the Colloquies with the merciful Lord "hanging on the Cross before me", whose love shows me what I have (not) done for Christ, what I am (not) doing for Christ, and what I shall (not) do for Christ. And it is within this “kind of talk friends have with one another, or perhaps like the way a servant speaks to his master" (Exercises, 54) that I become aware that I have thoroughly deserved hell. Unless it acquires a profile by being contrasted with redeeming love, the idea of hell will remain fantastic and imaginary, impossible for us to take absolutely seriously in our prayer. But, once it has this firm outline, it is what "stops the mouth" (Rom. 3:10) of the sinner who is always trying to find some reason why God cannot really abandon a man.