I wan't afraid. No, I felt awe, and wanted to slip to my knees on my living room rug. But he held out a hand, and touched my shoulder to stop me.
Next, I wanted to cry. Looking up into his serene and beautiful face, I was overwhelmed with a flood of memories of all my sins: all the hurtful things I've said; the times I could have helped someone, and I refused to; the times I gossiped and tore someone apart with savage jokes; the times I felt so sorry for myself that anything good I did was tainted by my attitude; my greed, envy, and anger.....
"Oh, Lord," I whispered, "I'm not worthy to have you visit me!"
He smiled at me. But, instead of leaving, he sat down beside me on the love seat.
"I'm so ashamed," I whispered.
"I came because I know you are," he answered. "It's good to know you're a sinner, but once you've repented, you have to let go of your sins and forget them. I have. You can't live in the past. Live in the Now - with me."
"But I've hurt so many people!"
His voice was tender as he answered me.
"Yes, but you've helped as many. The love flowing out of you - my love - works to heal and bring others to wholeness. Every time you've loved and healed someone, you've loved and healed me - my Body. And any one who loves and heals you is also me - "
Suddenly the figure of Jesus shifted, into one person after another who was an intimate part of my life:
- My spouse
-My children
- My children's friends
- My parents and other relatives
-My friends at work, in the neighborhood, at Church
He shifted into others whom I only saw once in awhile, or had seen only once - he looked at me out of their eyes -
- The old woman in the corner grocery store
- The crippled man at the Food Pantry
- The homeless man at the shelter
- The refugee family at the halfway house
- The man who pushed my car out of a snow drift
The figures kept shifting, faces going back further and further into my life until I was seeing my childhood friends and teachers.... Some among them I'd both loved and envied, been good to, and hurt. Some among them had wounded me terribly, yet I'd worked to make peace between us. I suddenly realized that every one of my relationships contained a cycle of loving, wounding, forgiving, and being forgiven. I'd loved and wounded Christ! Been forgiven by Christ!
Then one face transfixed me: the person I considered to be my worst enemy.
"How can that be you, too!" I cried. "She's cold and calculating; she has no heart!"
Jesus' face remained the face of my enemy; he talked to me in her voice.
"Have you looked into the depths of her heart as I have?" he asked me.
"I live there, curled into a tight space in a corner of her heart, tight as a prison cell, waiting for her to allow me to enter into her entire heart and life. Only your faithful prayers and caring, and that of others, can melt the frozen spaces inside her that have been so wounded by others."
He held out his hands, and took mine.
"I'm depending on you," he said. "Your hands are my hands; your voice is my voice. I pray through you. I act through you. I want you to be me."
My head dropped. "It hurts to be around her."
"Only around her? Keep looking. You've only begun to recognize Who I am."
Suddenly his face and body began to change again. I saw faces and clothing from around the world: Europeans, Asians, Africans, Hispanic refugees trudging across deserts; British soldiers weeping on battlefields; Middle Eastern civilians weeping in bombed-out homes; Haitian children's bodies emaciated by disease and famine; people praying in temples and mosques. American soldiers. Terrorists.
I shuddered in near-disbelief.
"All those people are also part of who you are?"
"I live in the hearts of all people, waiting. Waiting for them to encounter my Love."
He stretched out his arms, his hands open so that I could see the nail marks. I saw people surrounding him from every nation, century, walk of life; I saw battle after battle, hate crime after hate crime, gas chambers, instruments of torture from the Inquisition; I was swallowed up by an ocean of hatred, bitterness, grief, the turbulence of old misunderstandings and prejudices. The air was heavy with screams, cries, fear, and rejection.
"Father! Forgive them!" he cried out. "They don't know what they're doing to each other, to You, to Me, to our Spirit! Let my Love absorb the hatred! Let my Love flow like Living Water to quench the anger! Let my Love be an Ocean of Mercy to engulf with mercy those who think that war and divisions can bring peace!"
I looked at the crown of thorns circling his head; the drops of blood on his brow.
"Who can go for me today?" He cried out again. "My people are crying and suffering and no longer know who I am."
I struggled to my feet.
"I'm a sinner," I said.
"I know. But I have healed you, over and over. Can you heal others?"
I waited. Waited a long time. I knew the need. I knew the price.
"Here I am," I whispered. "Send me."
I looked at my hands. I thought I saw the beginnings of the marks of nails. But I also felt a flame in my heart, the beginning illumination and joy of eternal glory.