Seeking the Crucified Christ

Two weekends ago I attended the National Eucharistic Congress in Indianapolis. Jason Evert gave a talk on gender dysphoria. He was well stacked with facts and statistics and also with the tender love that is born of deep prayer and contemplation. He did not exclude anyone from the merciful love of God. He recounted a story of a mother who was speaking with him about her son who wants to transition to a female. Angered, his mother declared, “I told him that if he comes home looking like a girl, I wouldn’t look at him or speak with him.” Jason said his heart broke and he shared with her, “Did not the Mother of God look upon her broken, disfigured Son after He died, holding His mutilated Body in her arms? Would we not be called to do the same?” What a beautiful response.

It reminds me of Caryll Houselander, British artist and author, who writes in The Reed of God that we are invited to look upon one who falls into grave sin as Christ buried in the tomb. All may appear dead, dark, and over; but there is still hope of life and resurrection. Christ has united Himself with the hell of the darkest sin. We are looking upon Christ in the holy sepulcher. As Jesus told St. Faustina, “The greater the sinner, the greater right he has to My mercy.” (The Diary of St. Faustina)

Oh Beauty Ever Ancient Ever New. It is Your Face that we seek. Crucified and marred by wounds of Love. Given over completely. Disfigured by the stripes that heal us. Bloodied by beatings that bore our burden. Your Face holds the stories and meanings of our lives. Your Face holds our redemption and our transfiguration. Your Face saves us. Your Face loves us. Your Face connects and anchors us in reality. Our deepest abyss meeting with Your wellspring. The font of everlasting life and love. Your Face is the meeting place of the intimacy for which we long. Wound pressed up to wound. Blood to blood. Heart to heart.

We see You in our crying child. We see You in our aging father. We see You in the homeless man on the corner, His face smudged in dirt. We see you in our friend, lost and wandering. We see You in the vulnerability of every heart in front of us. You make Yourself hidden in the most tender, aching thirst of each human cry. We find You there. Give us eyes to see You, Crucified Christ, in the one right in front of us. You are here seeking us, as we seek You.

Blessed Mother who held your Crucified Son in your grieving, hopeful arms, please teach us how to see Him and hold Him in the distressing disguise of the vulnerable, the forgotten, the lonely, the poor, the rich, the hidden. Share with us your dove eyes and your love’s yes.

Marian West, Copyright 2024