September 2009 The Road to Daybreak A Spiritual Journey by Henri J M Nouwen

Continue from ...... Seeing Christ For a week now, I have been trying to write a meditation about the icon of Christ the Saviour painted by Andrew Rublev. I have not yet been able to write a word, but in fact have experienced an increasing anxiety. I looked at some books on iconography, studied some articles on Rublev's particular style, read throughIan Wilson's books on the Turin Shroud, and let my mind make all sorts of connections but could not find words for writing. I feel tired, even exhausted, because I have spent much mental energy but have found no way to channel it creatively. I am gradually realizing that what restrains me is the direct confrontation with the face of Jesus. I have written about Rublev's icon of the Trinity and about the icon of Our Lady of Vladimir. Yet writing about the icon of Christ's sacred face is such an awesome undertaking that I wonder if I can really do it. This afternoon I just looked at this seemingly indescribable icon. I looked at the eyes of Jesus and saw his eyes looking at me. I choked, closed my eyes, and started to pray. I said, "O my God, how can I write about your face? Please give me the words to say what can be said." I read in the Gospels and realized how much is written there about seeing and being seen, about being blind and receiving new sight, and about eyes - human eyes and the eyes of God. I know I must write about Rublev's icon of Christ because it touches me more than any icon I have ever seen. I must come to know what happens to me when I look at and pray with it. One thing is certain: I have read enough about it. I must simply be present to it, and pray and look and pray and wait and pray and trust. I hope that the right words will come, because if they do, perhaps many will begin to see with me and be touched by those eyes. A Prayer to See and Be Seen O Lord Jesus, I look at you, and my eyes are fixed on your eyes. Your eyes penetrate the eternal mystery of the divine and see the glory of God. They are also the eyes that saw Simon, Andrew, Nathanael, and Levi, the eyes that saw the woman with a haemorrhage, the widow of Nain, the blind, the lame, the lepers, and the hungry crowd, the eyes that saw the sad, rich ruler, the fearful disciples on the lake, and the sorrowful women at the tomb. Your eyes, O Lord, see in one glance the inexhaustible love of God and the seemingly endless agony of all people who have lost faith in that love and are like sheep without a shepherd. As I look into your eyes, they frighten me because they pierce like flames of fire my innermost being, but they console me as well, because these flames are purifying and healing. Your eyes are so severe yet so loving, so unmasking yet so protecting, so penetrating yet so caressing, so profound yet so intimate, so distant yet so inviting. I gradually realize that I want to be seen by you, to dwell under your caring gaze, and to grow strong and gentle in your sight. Lord, let me see what you see - the love of God and the suffering of people - so that my eyes may become more and more like yours, eyes that can heal wounded hearts. Not Milk, but Solid Food Every Tuesday night I celebrate the Eucharist for the English-speaking assistants of the community. We gather in the small chapel of La Forestiere. Not all the English-speaking people can come, but the chapel is quickly filled, especially since a few of the assistants bring a handicapped housemate with them. I have noticed that these people have little desire for dialogue or discussion, though they do like to pray together, sing together, be silent together, and listen together to a reflection on the Gospel. The assistants are often tired from a long day of work with handicapped men and women, and they want to be nurtured, supported, and cared for. I must learn a new style of ministry. Few of those who participate in these. Tuesday night liturgies need to be convinced of the importance of the Gospels, the centrality of Jesus, or the value of the sacraments. Most have moved beyond that stage. They have discovered Christ; they have made their decision to work with the poor; they have chosen the narrow path.

- To Be Continued - © Copyright Shalom 2009. All rights reserved.