Prayer of St. Francis Xavier
It is not your promised heaven
That moves me, Lord, to love you.
It is not the fear of hell
That forces me to fear you.
What moves me, Lord, is you, Lord.
Fixed to a cross and mocked.
What moves me is your wounded body.
The insults and your death.
What moves me really is your love.
So that were there no heaven,
I would love you still,
Were there no hell,
I would fear you still.
For me to love you,
You need nothing to give,
For even if I did not hope,
Even so I would love you.
As indeed I love.