Parishioner reflections on learning to recognize Christ

This Lent we are exploring together why one might choose to follow Christ and what it really means to be his disciple. One of the things that might help us to want to follow Christ is realizing that whether we have chosen to follow him yet or not, Christ is already with us. Especially in all of our experiences of being lost, afraid, misunderstood, or alone, he is always at our side. He never abandons us, even if we don’t recognize that he is there. We can find all the strength we need by looking for him, learning to recognize him, actively engaging in all of our life’s experiences and trusting that Christ is present in them. This week, three parishioners share their reflections on the question: In what experiences do you now recognize that Christ was with you, even if you weren’t aware of his presence at the time? 

Thinking about how to answer this question made me realize that I’m probably guilty of being a spiritual opportunist of sorts. Whenever I’ve experienced turbulence in my life--serious illness or death of a loved one, breakdown of a significant relationship, or even, well, literally turbulence on an airplane--I typically have sent up a smoke signal to Jesus (or God or Mary). In times of crisis, my inclination to pray for consolation or guidance or intervention has usually kicked in, leading to a sense of comfort, love, trust, and protection. I remember even as a young child loving the poem, “Footprints in the Sand,” and the concept of being carried by Jesus at the most difficult times in life. But what I don’t think I’ve been really aware of is that Jesus has been just as “there,” just as present, all the other times in my life, the countless moments that haven’t involved any particular crisis. Yet admittedly, it’s pretty rare for me to reach out in any consistent or meaningful way when I’m not in (short- or long-term) crisis mode. Maybe it’s a little like joining a gym for the sole purpose of losing weight within some finite window, versus exercising as a lifelong habit to feel your best, strongest, healthiest self. Considering how I answered this question makes me think I need to apply the same approach to faith, prayer, and a relationship with Jesus. Not merely turning to and relying on Jesus to carry me through life’s crises, but recognizing the “everyday” nature of his presence and reaching out far more routinely, without any particular need--relishing all the times when there are two sets of footprints in the sand.

---

One moment where I recognized Christ’s presence was when we were expecting our second child. I was sick and bedridden for the first several months. Unable to care for my two-year-old son, an army of family members arranged for his care. Meanwhile, friends and neighbors offered to babysit or bring food. Still more sent cards and handwritten prayers. I knew, in each of these acts of kindness, God was working with them and through them. I spent lots of time alone during those months, but never felt alone because God’s presence was so apparent in the thoughtfulness and generosity of others. My son recently asked what God looks like. I replied that I don’t know for sure, but I think he looks a little like Daddy, and a little like Nana, and a little like Noah’s Mom, and Ms. Lois, and countless others. Because we are each created in his image; he works through each of us; and beckons us to recognize his presence in each other. I hope that, during Lent, as you pursue a closer relationship with Christ, you are reminded through others that Christ is pursuing you, too--working in wonderful and mysterious ways to show you his abundant love.

---

It was during third grade when I felt in my soul all that I needed to live a very good life. Lying in the grass on that summer day, I gazed up at the sky and wondered what we are as humans and why we exist. I’d probably been told at St. Joseph grade school that we exist to love and serve God, but that message didn’t seem to sink in. I wondered if we were in an alternate universe or a dollhouse of sorts, where God acts as puppet master and monitors us for some sort of recreation. But then I had the experience of the awesome peace of lying in the grass and contemplating God’s divine plan that day. That peace was of course the love of God streaming through all of my senses. I had the answer then in third grade, although I did not realize it at the time--to live a good life requires total dependence on the love of God. It is simple in hindsight and has been figured out for generations: we need not wander in sin and desolation in search of fulfillment--we can achieve the best life by loving and serving God.  

---

Are you interested in offering one of these responses in the coming weeks? We’d love to include you! Please e-mail Kathy O’Leary for details on how to participate.

Take your next step: Journaling is a great form of prayer, whether you’re just beginning to pray or have been doing it all your life. It’s a wonderful way to reflect more deeply on what we feel and think, and to begin to lift that up to God. Each week of Lent, we are suggesting a journaling question to respond to. Find 15 minutes when you can be uninterrupted. Grab a piece of paper, find a notebook, or journal on your computer or phone. Any way you want to write is fine. Write at the top of the page: “In what experiences do I now recognize that Christ was with me, although I wasn’t aware of his presence at the time?” Write what comes from your heart.