To Him

Day after day atrocities beyond imagining all over the world. And so again this morning, every morning, we bring each other, we bring the world in its suffering and despondency and seeming hopelessness to Christ, longing for the intrusion of his grace, longing for his touch. Like all those who come to the door in this morning’s Gospel, we come to the door of his wounded, open heart seeking refuge, healing, true peace. To whom else shall we go? Impeded, and broken like Job, perhaps even sometimes on the verge of giving up hope, not knowing how to speak our need and real longing, and perhaps now inured to tragedy, still, we come back to this church in hope; we close our eyes, open our hearts and pour them out to him.

Christ Jesus assures us that he hears, he understands; that he is with us, he himself praying, articulating our desire in words beyond words. This is what our prayer is best of all: our desire groaned by Jesus for us, within us. It is this very groaning of God in Christ that brings healing to our world. We go to him, we accompany one another. We never go to him alone. He who is most kind Physician begs us to open ourselves to him. He longs to meet us at the door of our sorrow.

Christ Crucified, Diego Velázquez, 1632, 98 in × 67 in, oil on canvas, Museo del Prado, Madrid.