Reflection by Gabriella Makuc.
“Remain here, and watch with me.”
It strikes me these days that God is the One who remains. God is the One who chooses to stay with us at all costs, bearing every disease that plagues us. Centering down into this moment is nothing less risky than accepting Jesus’ invitation to remain here with him:
Here where the earth gives way all around, where we are brought to shame by our incapacities and apathies-- Here where we face those whom we love and struggle with most, and where we are cut through by loneliness-- Here where the mountains of our security have crumbled, the ocean of our defenses parted to reveal our naked greed, hunger, fragility. Here where we are unstable amid our craving for ritual; Here where we are stubborn amid our need for motion. How unsettling it is here, to watch days elapse, or trickle by perhaps, just out of our control.
Here is where Jesus invites us into intimacy. All of our “here” is welcome.
Recently, one of my favorite prayers has been the “Welcome Prayer” from the centering prayer tradition, written by Mary Mrozowski:
“Welcome, welcome, welcome. I welcome everything that comes to me today because I know it is for my healing. I welcome all thoughts, feelings, emotions, persons, situations, and conditions. I let go of my desire for power and control. I let go of my desire for affection, esteem, approval and pleasure. I let go of my desire for survival and security. I let go of my desire to change any situation, condition, person or myself. I open to the love and presence of God and God’s action within.”
This prayer welcomes us into a retreat that is no escape, but a summons to share in God’s relational reality. It is not a spiritual “quick fix” or “improvement plan,” for there is no objective goal but to remain in relationship with our Divine Lover.
I think of Jesus’ identity as God’s Son as both an eternal and evolving reality. Over the course of his life on earth, I see him coming more and more fully into this identity until he gives himself entirely on the cross and “it is finished.” His grieved prayer in Gethsemane is a moment of deepest intimacy with his Abba, deepest becoming in their relationship, and yet he invites us in. He reveals his heart, and calls us now to welcome with him this mystery of plea and surrender: We beg that this cup called Covid-19 would pass, and yet if it is ours to drink for now, we surrender to how God’s Spirit might bear life through us in its midst.
It is tempting to fall asleep from the weight of the grief, the heaviness of our eyes. Likewise, it is easy to be swept up into the trembling of the mountains and the sea. It is easy to ride “high” or “low;” it is hard to stay awake. It is hard to be still and know that God is God.
Yet, with Jesus, we are called to reach out, reach up, and say, “Abba. Father.” We are simply called to be here with the One who Remains, who chooses to stay awake with us, whose Being inhabits this moment.
Gabriella Makuc is from Massachusetts, is Roman Catholic, is 25 years old, soon beginning MDiv studies at Boston University School of Theology, and it's her hope to bear witness to the essential giftedness at the heart of all things.