Too much news. Too much sad news. I have sadly neglected the good news.
One of the biggest lessons of this year’s Lent practice, which is a self-induced requirement to reflect and write every day, is my understanding of how healing the concept of Jesus is. I’m talking about the idea of Jesus. This is besides the actual healing power of Jesus. The concept that there is a being and a power wholly based on love who has left us a pattern to follow is comforting. Even if he were make-believe, the process of following him would be helpful. His guileless nature is the antithesis of what disturbs me in our human leaders. The simple concept of Jesus would be enough to lift me out of despondency.
But the reality of Jesus gives me hope. It brightens my vision and makes me breathe deeper and slower. I remind myself to nurture this faith and use it more often, like a daily sacrament, to wash myself from this spiraling world.
I’ve become aware, through these past forty days, that when I turn my sorrow to an awareness of Jesus, it shifts the focus from a centered downward flow to an upward lift. Literally, I imagine the energy source through the center of my body going from a flushing faucet to a rising beam. I hear it in my head, an upward rush of wind.
This season of introspection has given me this particular gift. I’m grateful for it. I need it. I need to speak the word Jesus more often these days. It’s not denial. It’s hope.
