Recognition Becomes Revelation

Readings 072226  

 

Feast of Saint Mary Magdalene

Sometimes my wife says  

the moment my life changed  

was when I saw Jesus.  

Truth is—I don’t remember  

a single blinding moment,  

a vision I could point to,  

a story I could retell.  

If I had seen Him that way,  

I’d remember.  

My experience 

was His whisper.

But I do see Him—  

every day.  

In the aged who walk slowly,  

in the poor who carry quiet burdens,  

in the sick who whisper hope,  

in friends whose kindness  

shines through their weariness.  

His countenance hides  

in ordinary faces  

if we’re willing to look.  

Maybe that’s why Mary  

didn’t recognize Him at first.  

Maybe resurrection light  

takes a moment  

to settle into our sight.  

And yet, like her,  

there comes a point  

when the heart knows  

before the eyes do—  

and something inside us  

finally says,  

“I have seen the Lord.”  

Because whoever is in Christ  

is a new creation;  

old things fall away,  

new things rise quietly,  

like dawn breaking  

over a familiar horizon.  

Prayer

Lord Jesus Christ,

Give us eyes  

to see Your face  

in every person we meet—  

and to recognize You  

even when You come

gently,  

softly,  

unexpectedly. 

Amen

Circle of Belonging

 

Readings 072126

When I visit the elderly in care centers,  

I am always met by a quiet, gentle grace.  

Even in frailty… even in illness… even in weakness…  

love still rises to the surface.  

So often, before I can settle into the chair,  

someone will look up with soft eyes and say,  

“Deacon, can you visit my friend?  

They need prayers.”  

There is a holy tenderness in that request—  

a sensitivity to the needs of people,  

an appreciation for those we are called to serve.  

It is the kind of love that does not fade with age;  

it deepens, it softens, it becomes generous.  

And the Gospel echoes this same truth.  

Jesus is speaking to the crowds  

when His mother and brothers arrive,  

waiting outside, hoping to see Him.  

Someone says,  

“Your mother and your brothers are standing outside,  

asking to speak with you.”  

But Jesus stretches out His hand  

toward His disciples and replies,  

“Here are my mother and my brothers.  

For whoever does the will of my heavenly Father  

is my brother, and sister, and mother.”  

In that moment,  

He widens the circle of belonging.  

He teaches us that family is formed  

not only by blood,  

but by compassion…  

by mercy…  

by the willingness to carry one another gently.  

The elderly show us this every day.  

They remind us that holiness is often quiet—  

found in noticing who is hurting,  

in asking someone to pray for a friend,  

in loving beyond themselves.  

May this Gospel shape our hearts,  

and may their example guide our steps,  

as we learn to see every person  

as Christ’s own family—  

and therefore, our own.  

Prayer

Lord Jesus,  

teach my heart to notice 

the quiet needs around me.  

Let Your compassion guide my steps 

toward those who feel forgotten.  

Make me gentle, make me attentive, 

make me willing to serve.  

And gather us all 

into the wide circle of Your family.  

Amen