September 6, 2017
The incarnation never ceases to amaze me (and every Catholic thinker ever). What follows is less a cohesive reflection and more a disjointed meditation on what it means that God was human. Take what edifies you, leave the rest.
Jesus was a real, historical person.
Hear it again: Jesus was a real, historical person.
Jesus was a real, historical person. His travels left footprints. His teachings were sound waves reverberating through the air. His healings were miraculous and inexplicable, yet profoundly real; real people were really sick, and then they weren't. His hands touched them. Picture what it would mean to have our Lord's hands grace your head, your shoulders. How would they feel? What would they heal?
Our Eternal King fought drowsiness as he cured his disciples all through the night (see today's Gospel). He needed time to himself, retiring to a private place multiple times during his ministry, usually only to be interrupted by crowds desiring more and more of Him. How magnetic His presence must have been!
The God of angel armies, the creator of the universe who exists outside of time, who is Love and Existence itself burst into our world with jet-fuel tenacity, like a star falling from heaven to Earth. But He also arrived with all the timidity of a whisper, of a servant (just think, at some point in time, Jesus was too young to understand human language). Instead of elegant, decisive military victory, His salvation was made real through simple perseverance, love and mercy on the Cross. He conquered hearts in a deeper way than the greatest king could have ever conquered peoples.
Jesus Christ became all things to all people because He himself was a person.
Let us pray for faith in the mystical truth that even though we did not encounter Christ during his earthly ministry, He, in corporeal form, meets us in every tabernacle throughout the world. May he be adored and praised! We have access to His earthly ministry in a new way, made fresh by the Holy Spirit and enriched by thousands of years of prayer and reflection from minds far greater and holier than ours. Let us just bask in Him.
With Thomas, we cry, "My Lord and my God!"