“Listen” for Jesus

This reading from John’s gospel is lovely in its intimacy and simplicity.

Looking back on this past season of Lent, I found myself walking along with Jesus and his dearest friends and family. I witnessed Jesus curing the sick, the lame, the blind.  I witnessed Jesus gently touching, healing the wounded, reverently present to the outcast and lonely, the foreigner - the Samaritan woman.  Through prayer, scripture and personal experience Jesus awakened me, heightened my awareness, to the intimate pain and sufferings of others. I listened as Jesus challenged the authority on behalf of the weak and powerless.  I saw it in my own community. I witnessed and begged to be part of, if only in the slightest way, Jesus’ darkest hours of abandonment. 

I walked with the women, some homeless. I walked with stray dogs and cats. I walked with barefoot, scabby kneed children scampering along following the swelling crowd of disciples, spectators and gawkers. I fell asleep with the disciples.  In fear I attempted to stay out of sight, disappearing into the curious ragtag crowd of the hopeful and the hopeless. I witnessed Jesus staggering under the weight of his own sorrow and pain and the pain and sorrows of each one of us. I was there as Jesus stumbled and tripped up the steep, dusty cobbled streets to the hill of Golgotha. The air hung heavy with the smell of blood and sweat and the patina of fear. Yet, something un-nameable was in progress.

Lent is the liturgical season of intimacy and dance - of moving into a deeper, richer more intimate relationship with Jesus.  In any meaningful relationship both parties gently and at times not so gently, gracefully and not so gracefully move, step, sidestep, slide and pirouette into spaces of light and darkness, intimacy, joy and delight, pain and sorrow.  It is not always easy; it is not always pretty – faithful presence is the glue.  In our dance, Jesus holding me, encouraged me to hold my shame while gazing into his gentle, loving and forgiving eyes.  The gift of the dance for me was a relationship richer in self-knowledge and a more intimate and genuine love of Jesus.

Once I was a hospital patient recovering from major orthopedic surgery.  Asleep, I had this incredible experience of recognition and loving presence.  In my sleep I became aware of my husband’s footfall.  I was able to trace it from the entrance of the hospital, down hallways, up flights of stairs and into my room.  I knew it was he. I recognized his step. My husband leaned over me and lovingly, gently spoke my name.  I don’t know how this happened, if in reality it did happen.  I do know, he spoke my name.  I awoke and knew I was safe and loved.

Gardens attract lovers.  In the garden, Jesus and Mary Magdalen meet for the first time after Jesus’ death and resurrection.  In her grief, Mary does not recognize Jesus. Then Jesus speaks her name, “Mary.” That’s all – just her name, “Mary”. And Mary knows it is Jesus. The risen Christ greeting his beloved Mary.

I invite you to listen in the silence of your heart for Jesus speaking your name.  The Beloved speaking the name of His loved one.  Easter morning and the un-nameable is complete. In love, Jesus speaks my name, speaks your name, speaks our names- the homeless, the broken, the scabbed, the doubter, the gawker and the faithful. I am loved, I belong and I am dignified.

…. Listen for Jesus speaking your name.