Monday, March 9, 2009, Feast of Gregory of Nyssa
Daily Office Year 1
Chapel of the Apostles
The Mirror of Christ
Each night I sit in silence, in darkness, waiting. . .
Each night I pray: ‘Lord Jesus, may I share in my body the pain
you suffered on the cross; but even more may I know in my heart
the love that brought you there.’
you suffered on the cross; but even more may I know in my heart
the love that brought you there.’
Never did I dream that this yearning would happen.
Lent has always been too painful for me;
everyday seems like Ash Wednesday.
I don’t need the ashes to remind me that my twilight is harrowing.
But on this night, I woke to find myself stripped and barren,
But on this night, I woke to find myself stripped and barren,
laden in the wasteland of exile.
For what seemed like one long, never‐ending night
would be driven into my soul for forty interminable days.
Pain, yes, pain was there. He became my friend, my shackle,
Pain, yes, pain was there. He became my friend, my shackle,
and my constant companion—
never letting me forget him.
Tears became like sandpaper to me.
Never mind the cross whose splinters stick through me.
Water was the mirage that kept me moving,
yet that image could never quench my deepening thirst.
The dark sky kept me warm and safe, but always alert.
Here, in the desert of my mind, I admit my failures,
Here, in the desert of my mind, I admit my failures,
my sin, my temptation, my human‐ness.
I failed to live up to that which I thought I should be;
the image in the mirror looked so beautiful, so perfect, so happy.
And now, that image fades away each day.
And now, that image fades away each day.
I feel the pain, but where is your love?
Why have you abandon me? Save me!
Why have you abandon me? Save me!
Give me a rope, pull me up please!
Where are you?
Was this whole thing a ruse?
A cruel prank at my own expense?
Where were you when my heart broke?
Where were you when my heart broke?
Where were you when my life split wide open,
and left me vulnerable to the world?
Where were you when my burdens crushed me?
And silence. . . and darkness. . . and shadows moving.
And silence. . . and darkness. . . and shadows moving.
Somehow, through my numbness, I could feel the wind
beginning to blow and voice whispered from the East:
‘Before I formed you in the womb I knew you.
‘Before I formed you in the womb I knew you.
In the darkness of your advent I called you by name.
You are mine, and you are loved!
I have never abandoned you.
I send you your daily bread!
You think suffering and pain is darkness,
but I say it is also light.
'Can’t you see it?
In your darkness you’ve regained your vision.
In your darkness, I can turn your embers into bright flames of holiness,
flames that the daylight cannot reveal.
flames that the daylight cannot reveal.
Darkness is indeed light. I am in the darkness too!
In the shadows you learn your truth, my truth, and ours together.
There you learn to walk with integrity,
there you can soar over mountain tops into the clouds of the unknown.
But those scars will never go away,
But those scars will never go away,
see mine and know their healing power!
'The desert is a by‐way to your salvation.
I am there. I am there in the mirror.
I have always been there.
So come, come down now from the cross.
A new day is rising.
The dawn from on high is upon you.
The best is still to come.’
