On The Mystery Of Jesus

Jesus, you are the Mystery my frail mind cannot explain. Yet through your Mystery, many mysteries are solved. 

 

You have said, "If your eye be single, your whole body will be filled with light (Mat 6:22)." I meet you in the center of my soul, and I see through your single Eye. It is the lens of my heart.  And your Eye in my heart irradiates whatever it sees with the light of a new creation.  

 

You anoint me with a sobering vision, yet a vision that heals, and leads to wholeness. I see why our wounds so willfully reject the very kindness that would heal them. How we are driven by an unacknowledged grief. The grief of pride. The pride that cannot confess its yearning for you. 

 

I see that I cannot heal myself when "I" am the dis-ease. Your humility is more vast than my intellect. I see that I cannot "believe" because you are deeper inside me than my will. Thought I cannot believe in you, I can experience Friendship beyond words. A taste of salt and sweetness that wells up from my heart. I sing the silence of your overwhelming nearness? Love is the prayer. 
 

Naked of any creed, I invite you to enter the wound in my chest, that I may rest this breath in your companionship, and hear your two-syllable name in my heart heart. "Jesus, Jesus." And the song of my wound? "Stay open, stay open." Then I discover you have always been there. I was not waiting for you. You were waiting for me, in the deepest silence of who I Am.

 

To my brothers and sisters I can only say, you don't need to call his name, though it is a most beautiful name. For he already listens, and already rests inside you. Just let your Being turn to gaze upon its own Christal seed. 

If you do hear his name, don't be afraid. Observe your mind's reaction. Let go of any voice that grinds indignant, resentful, or bitter. Follow something softer, the warmth that expands in your core, and melts into tears of longing. 

Painting: Rembrandt