See Jesus in Ourselves

Frank, the wise elderly priest, continues to tell us how he’s come to see Jesus in his life:

One of my favorite blessings as a priest came with the honor of listening to people’s confessions. You might be surprised at that, but sharing such a sacramental moment with anyone is a gift. Sometimes people come in during confessional hours and you can tell they want to get in and out as quickly as possible. But most people, once they’ve said what they need to say, are open to the many graces God wants to shower on them. And the people who make an appointment for confession off-hours are often hungry for such grace and any spiritual counseling that I’m moved to offer.

Many people come to the confessional weighed down by guilt and feeling very bad about themselves. I listen, not for my own knowledge, but as a conduit connecting God and the parishioner. Their words, both the penitent’s and God’s, flow through me, and I frequently am amazed at how the Spirit directs my response to them. You’d think after so many years as a priest I’d be used to it, but I still often wonder, did I just say that? Where did that come from? It certainly isn’t my own wisdom, but that of the Spirit. Being used that way, for the healing of a sorrowful soul, is one of the greatest gifts of the priesthood!

I don’t want the penitent to leave while weighed down by what they’ve just told me. I want them to realize what a blessed child of God they are, so there’s a question I’ve always loved asking people before I give them their penance and send them on their way.

I say, “Tell me when you’ve been most like Jesus.” Well, usually they start telling me when they’ve been the least like Him. So, I interrupt and say again, “Tell me when you’ve been most like Him.”

I hear quite humbling answers.

One woman said, “When I overlook my husband’s little irritating idiosyncrasies and just love him as he is.”

Another said, “When I’m up in the middle of the night with my infant, and she’s crying, and I’m exhausted but I cuddle her and coo to her and rock her until she falls asleep. I think that’s what Jesus must long to do with us when we aren’t behaving. So often we misbehave because we are tired or hungry or don’t feel loved. But He’s right there holding us and loving us through the hard times.”

So much truth rests in that wise young woman’s words. But women aren’t the only ones who are Christ-like. One man told me, “My joints hurt most of the time. I’ve had severe arthritis for years, but I try not to complain. I think about Jesus and how He suffered for me, and I thank Him, and then the pain doesn’t seem intolerable.”

Another man had a hard time letting go of all the times he’d missed the mark. I had to repeat my question several times, but finally he looked up at me with tears in his eyes and said, “I’m divorced. I didn’t want it, but I am, and sadly, my ex-wife is very angry with me, so she belittles me in front of the kids. I’m most like Jesus when I resist the temptation to do the same about her. He never returned anything but good for evil. I try to remind myself of that, and I try to tell the kids about her good qualities. I don’t want them to think that whatever part of them comes from her isn’t anything but wonderful.”

The elderly man paused and looked at Pedra, who had been recording his words in shorthand as quickly as he spoke.

“How about you, Pedra,” he asked, “when have you been most like Jesus?”

Pedra looked up from her notepad, then looked down again, not wanting to meet Frank’s gaze. She could feel her cheeks burn, and her first thoughts were all the ways she wasn’t like Jesus at all. Frank let her relax into his silence and simply waited. Finally, she said, “I’m most like Jesus when I’m in this room, listening to your stories, and completely enjoying being with you. I hope He enjoys being with me, but I am absolutely sure He enjoys being with you, Frank.”

“Pedra,” Frank answered, “you have no idea how wonderful you are. And I don’t have much time left to convince you. But you are. You make me feel like there’s nowhere else you’d rather be. That’s a remarkable gift of friendship. And I promise you, Jesus loves being with you, listening to you confide in Him, sharing your friendship. He loves you, Pedra, just the way you are right now. He doesn’t need you to be perfect. He’ll aways encourage us to be better, but He also delights in who we are right now.”

She looked at the good man through tears in her eyes.

“Go home,” he said. “Talk to God. Listen to Him. Let Him show you all the ways you are wonderful.”

Betty here. What more can I say? Go home. Talk to God. Listen to Him. Let Him show you all the ways you are wonderful. He loves you, just the way you are right now. He doesn’t need you to be perfect. He’ll aways encourage us to be better, but He also delights in how we are right now.

See Jesus in yourself.