Do you remember the first time you saw him? I mean really saw him. Do you remember the first time you saw the Lord Jesus with the eyes of faith?
Maybe it was when you were a little kid, and your grandmother told you that Jesus, through whom you were made, was in that little white host and that fancy gold cup that the Priest was holding on the Altar. And with the faith of a little child, you looked up and saw him.
Caryll Houselander once described that moment so well in her book Mass for the People, written way back in 1942. She wrote:
“Slowly, exactly, Father O'Grady repeated the words of Consecration, his hands moved in Christ's hands, his voice spoke in Christ's voice, his words were Christ's words, his heart beat in Christ's heart.
“Fr. O'Grady lifted up the consecrated Host in his short, chapped hands, the server rang a little bell, the sailor, the handful of old women and the very old man bowed down whispering "My Lord and my God" and the breath of their adoration was warm on their cold fingers.
Father O'Grady was lifting up God.”
And with the eyes of faith, every innocent child and old faithful woman and man looked at that white host and gold Chalice and saw God, Jesus, their Lord and their God!
Maybe that was the first time you saw God. Or maybe the first time you were with the old sick lady or that guy who lived on the street or that person who really needed you. And you consoled them and wiped their sweaty brown, or fed them as they gobbled it down hungrily, or dried their tears as they cried about how hard their life had become. And maybe when you looked behind their tears or between the wrinkles of their wizened visage you saw Jesus, smiling back at you. Maybe that’s the first time you saw his face.
Or maybe it was after that time you had really messed up, and your life was in a shambles, and you had cried through endless nights of dark despair. Until, in a dazzling moment of blinding light, someone forgave you, God absolved you and you were overwhelmed, drowning in a gratuitous mercy that you never could have deserved. And way down deep in your broken heart, now overcome with healing love, you saw his face, maybe for the first, but certainly not for the last time.
And suddenly, you were like Isaiah, so aware of your littleness set against the infinity of God’s glory. Your grubbiness, set against the the purity of seraphims praising the holiness of God. And, like Isaiah, you cried out: "Woe is me, for I am doomed!…a man of unclean lips…”
And you were like Saint Peter, drowning in your own narcicissm and sin, fearful of the deep water and incredulous at what God proposed to do through your unworthy hands. And, like Peter you cried out, “"Depart from me, Lord, for I am a sinful man.”
But then, just when you’re positive that you’re just too little, too unworthy and weak to do anything but be astonished, Jesus smiles softy and whispers those three amazing words: “Don’t be afraid.”
Don’t be afraid. I will make you fishers of men!
Don’t be afraid. Just believe!
Don’t be afraid. For you are worth more than a flock of sparrows!
Don’t be afraid. For even the hairs of your head are all counted!
Don’t be afraid. For you’ve been made for the Kingdom of God!
Don’t be afraid. It’s just me, Jesus, the Risen Lord!
And I will be with you always, until the end of time.
365 times, the Lord says to us in the Bible: “Don’t be afraid”
From Genesis to Revelation.
Don’t be afraid. Just look, it’s me, the God through whom you were made,
rich inll mercy and compassion, who loves you more than
you will ever know.
So don’t be afraid, ever again.
