In a small room,
set aside for silent adoration, I sat with my Lord and began to read the Gospel
of John for the third time in my life. This
day however, the opening chapter struck me differently. Rather than continue on, I let the words sit
with me for a while, then read them again.
With my assigned hour coming to a close, I quietly prayed a Chaplet of
Mercy while still contemplating what I had just read. The most incredible experience happened
during these prayers, as a flood of wisdom and understanding was granted me
concerning the nature of God and his relationship with mankind. This wisdom has since been confirmed and
reinforced by further study and instruction which has left me with a hunger for
more and to share it with others.
The idea of Jesus
as the living Word of God, made man, led me first to contemplate the Eucharist. A stumbling point for many, the Eucharist as
the real body and blood of Christ is a mystery I began to understand through
John’s writing. I thought of Jesus
calling himself the bread of life. (Jn 6:35)
I understood that the Word of God is
the bread of life. I recalled the
written word; “Man does not live on bread alone, but on every word that comes
from the mouth of God.” (Dt 8:3; Mt 4:4).
I imagined the host, transformed at mass, being digested and absorbed by
my body, becoming one with my body. I came
to perceive the Eucharist as a real Communion.
I could now see that we truly become one with the Lord through the
sacrament.
Another point I
was led to consider is the divinity of Christ.
I was very familiar with Jesus, the man, the Son of God. I had been taught of him since childhood. He is my friend, my mentor, my brother. John’s gospel however, reveals the Christ as
Word of God, who always existed and through whom, the world was created. Never before considering the God of Abraham,
Isaac and Jacob as God in three persons, I began to think the term “Son of God”
helped to hide the divine Christ behind the human. The more I simply said “of God”, the more I
saw Him as everlasting and one with God.
I recognized Christ as authority and law, the way, the truth and the
life.
A question formed
in my heart. How can a word, even that
of God, become man? I believe in the
power of God to manipulate the body of a man and/or woman and create a child
within her, as he did with Abraham’s wife, Elizabeth, mother of John the
Baptist and Mary herself, but to make his word flesh, how is that even
possible? Almost immediately an answer
came. Even the word of man has the
ability to gain a life of its own. In
poetry, prose and song, do not the words of men live on? They can move the spirit, inspire the mind
and motivate the body. They can live
across generations. One word can
encourage or dishearten a brother or sister. A father’s word can create or destroy the
life of his child. If the words of men
have this capacity, what more then has the Word of God?
I had always
expected God’s wisdom to come as if downloaded to my mind or spoken, as from a
teacher. This felt more as if a veil had
been lifted or that I had put on polarized lenses. I was seeing something that had always been
there, but I had not been able to see.
Some years later, I was researching prayer for a lesson I was to give
middle school students. The book seller
suggested an introduction to Lectio Divina.
I was unsure it would fit, but she was insistent and I bought it. Reading it, I thought back to that evening in
the chapel and realized what I had stumbled (or been led?) into. Today, I find myself reading the bible in a
different way, in contemplation with Christ, rather than in historical or
literary context.