Twice in the first week of April, I touched my finger to a vial of blessed oil and then gently made a sign of the cross on someone’s forehead. One belonged to Maddie, who was born prematurely last fall. She has a number of health problems, and her family requested a private baptism so she could be blessed before she went in for surgery to repair a diaphragmatic hernia. She is a tiny but very alert person, who looked right into my eyes as I touched her with water and oil.
The other forehead belonged to Eleanor, who by coincidence also had a diaphragmatic hernia. A few days before she died, I gave thanks for her ninety years of faithful life and blessed her on her way to God.
In most of life, we notice first how people are different – how they look, how they act, what they are able to do. As babies, we have not acquired all those traits yet, and as we lay dying they all fall away again. What shines through is our simple, vulnerable humanity. Seen just as a human being, a person is so beautiful that it feels impossible not to respond with blessings and with love. These are the moments when I find it easiest to believe that we are made in the image of God.
In his final hours, Jesus is stripped of his status, his friends, his freedom, his clothing, and his control over his body. He responds in very human ways. He shows his weakness: he falls, he thirsts, he cries out in grief and pain. He also shows his heart of love, offering forgiveness to the crowd, comfort to his mother and his disciple, and hope to the criminal beside him. In both his vulnerability and his compassion, he shines with the beauty of his humanity. Even before he is raised to new life, he reveals the glorious image of God.
No comments:
Post a Comment