In the presence of the Lord

"Suffering is nothing by itself. But suffering shared with the Passion of Christ is a wonderful gift, the most beautiful gift, a token of love"

Mother Theresa

Anyone who has ever doubted the trans formative powers of  the sacraments, ought to go to hospital with a Priest. Though I have always had a deeply held conviction about the Real Presence and the trans formative powers of the Sacraments, the experience of receiving them amidst your own suffering and trials is something else. For those of you who do not know, my husband has recently undergone surgery for a spinal tumour. The series of events has been a roller coaster of emotions, yet always at just the right moment just when it is needed and without request up pops a Priest with the Sacrament. The previous moments of stress and agitations are for a second becalmed and the Lord is almost tangible in the air. I have had moments in Mass when I have experienced God's amazing grace and presence but never so much as I have this last week. The difference in not only myself but my husband is stark and overwhelming. It is such an amazing grace and force of peace in a time when you feel your heart might just break. The vulnerability that has come from watching my loved one suffer, has been almost unbearable. The ability to accept help, is not something I come to easily. I am not the one who falls apart, I am the one who copes. This week any vestige of such pride filled behaviour has gone. Without the Sacraments and the prayers of others I am quite sure I would be a complete wreck by now. The Lord's presence changes us, and through us changes the world, of that I am more certain than I have ever  been before.

It has been a long time since I wrote a poem, however today I felt moved to do so. The poem tells much more than I could here of my journey these last few days.

Presence

Lord I have walked my life with you.

Sometimes glad and sometimes sad.

Many times I turned away, but I returned.

Every step I took seems easy now.

Cause now I walk through mud.

Dragging, sticking and holding fast.

Still, I feel you here.

Lord I walk this path with you.

Tortured, pained and helpless.

Above I see your cross, your suffering,

The hope in your return.

Each day the nails drive in,

Digging deeper, my strength has waned

Still, I see you here.

Lord I am stumbling with you.

My heart it, cannot bear,

The times I must climb up again,

Only that I should fall once more.

Heavy and burdensome, I struggle.

Still, you carry me there.

Lord I am hanging here,

Fatigued, beaten and broken.

Many times, I fear your absence,

But I trust that you are here.

For as your mortal life expired,

So your divine presence returned.

Still, I turn to you.

Lord I am in your empty tomb.

Searching, frantic and lost.

Your absence here, is not real,

As your presence radiates all around.

Holding, carrying and lifting me.

Every time I lose you,

Your love touches my heart.

Still, you are here.

Your body lifted high before me here.

Offered, received and consumed.

It’s reception sustains me,

Though my body, heart and mind breaks.

Your presence here, hope comfort and strength.

Your peace guides me.

Still, you take my hand.

Not in my lifetime

" Arise, arise good Christian men,

Your glorious standard rise again,

The Cross where with he signed you;

The King himself shall led you on,

Shall watch you till the strife be done.

Then near his throne shall find you."

In the last few years there has been so much of seemingly impossible historic importance that has happened. Events that have only ever happened once in a lifetime or as in the case the photo above the simply inconceivable happened. My generation has witnessed 9/11, Brexit, Grenfell, ISIS, historic Solar and Lunar eclipses, historically late and early Easters, the extinction of many species of animals and anomalous weather. It is easy to convince yourself the world is on a path to destruction. For me far more personally I feel very much like the altar above, I feel my world is crumbling, burning and falling around me. The start of this year has been barrage after barrage of things I am so ill equipped to deal with, not ready to contemplate and certainly not willing to deal with. I am standing in the middle of a fire, that I had convinced myself would never happen in my life. Serious illness was something that just happened to others and not to us.

Every generation convinces itself it will be uneventful. Of course by default history is happening, being written whether we acknowledge it or not. So too, the Church is evolving with each new generation. Therefore, we must also live our lives, they can not be put on pause until the chaos ceases. In reality we all experience the unexpected, we all bear witness to historic and national events that we never thought possible and the earth has stood at the brink of destruction more than once. Yet here we still are in the burning smoldering ashes of society, turning towards that cross, that salvation that hangs over us all. Our hope.

If someone had said I would sit transfixed as I watched Notre Dame de Paris burn, I would have laughed. If someone had told me my husband would have a tumour and require serious surgery, I would have said no chance. If someone said I would have watched a plane fly into towers, people burn to death in a modern apartment block, I would not have believed them. The list goes on and on. So much evil, so much death, so much illness. Where does it stop? The answer is it doesn't, it has always happened. People have been slaughtered both by nature and humanity throughout history. It was not until I reached adulthood and the blinkers of idyllic childhood fell off, that I realised this.Nor was it until after this revelation that I came to terms with the idea that if we did not suffer we would not know joy. If we did not see destruction we would not want to fight for salvation. If there was no death there would be no Resurrection.

Standing in that abyss looking at the world fall apart, watching people, buildings, societies and indeed our own Church dwindle, is no easy mission. Observing the falling number of Christians, watching buildings burn it is so easy to feel lost, helpless and hopeless. It is enough to make anyone doubt, anyone question was is the point. It takes a huge leap of faith to get past the "My God, my God why have you foresaken me" part. You are left to trust the seemingly impossible, to believe that the temple can be rebuilt in three days. I draw you back to the photo above. This Holy Week more than ever with this image being broadcast around the world, there is a physical portrait of hope in destruction. The building is collapsing around the Altar and Cross. They are poking out from burning embers, yet the light from the fire above connects the two, places of sacrifice required for Resurrection. His presence could not be more clear, symbolism for rebirth, rebuilding and regrowth stark. Resurgam! 

Now I draw you to the verse above, now is the time to arise and our Christian standard bear. The message could not be clearer. The Cross with which he signed each and every one of us, shall lead us on and watch with us until this new strife is done. He will lead us through each and every event until we near his throne. Though the world may seem broken we are marked as the ones to lead it forward, we can be that beacon of hope healing the fractures. All it takes is humility, hope, prayer and a big dollop of Faith. So easy to say, harder to do. But faith, leads to hope and hope to Salvation. To bring us hope Christ had to die had to live through the abyss and trust in his Father. So too, must we.