A dream is coming true today. What started as a quiet hope, turned into an email, a possible guest post, and then, in the end, me becoming a contributor over at A Deeper Story. I've been in love with the amazing work there, the writers that have been brought together, the hope they draw out ... I am stunned to be placed in the midst of them. Excited. Overwhelmed. For my first post, I am reflecting on our need for Christ to be crucified, even now ...
“Give peace in our time, O Lord. Because there is none other that fighteth for us, but only thou, O God”
We gather in the small chapel with the stained glass windows to pray the evening liturgy. There are no kneelers, so our flesh kisses the stone floor and goes numb. At that level, eyes are placed just below the columns of glass that overlook the altar. At that level, eyes are placed just below the central image woven into the glass: our Lord Christ, crucified.
Today, I think about Somalia and famine. Today, when we read the appointed psalm, I think about my friends in closed Asian countries, who flee from village to village, who hide Bibles in the lining of their coats, who have been imprisoned. Today, I think about the children who live across the street from me, just over the highway, who will go hungry tonight, and I wish I could know their faces.
When we come to the line about peace in our time, I cannot speak. I weep. A few tears stain the prayerbook, I rock back on my knees and feel them recoil at the hardness of the stone floor, and I lift up my eyes to that central image, to our crucified God, and I am overwhelmed by Beauty and Truth and Love.
I think it was Pascal who once said, “Christ will be in agony until the end of the world.”