A friend committed suicide this morning. I don’t know what demons were chasing him, only the ones that pursue me.

But, two words:  Don’t. Ever.

“The door to the confessional is our door of hope”—Fr. Jay Scott Newman. Forgiveness and healing are offered to all. Even if our failures seem overwhelming, Christ waits for us at the confessional door. Look to the richness of God’s mercy in Christ.

The new English liturgy says, “Lord, I am not worthy that you should enter under my roof,¹ but only say the word and my soul shall be healed.” This morning without sacrilegious intent, I thought, “That is folly, Lord, to enter under my roof given my faults, repeated failings, and mixed motives.”

But no! Remember Jesus was asked how He could eat with tax collectors and sinners? Our Lord responded, “Those who are well do not need a physician, but the sick do. Go and learn the meaning of the words, ‘I desire mercy, not sacrifice’” (Matthew 9:12-13). God runs toward us with super-abundant, overwhelming love (Luke 15:20). The story of the prodigal son who fell into sin is actually a story of prodigal love—God’s prodigal love for us, without limits (1 John 4:10).

Are you troubled? Are you ashamed? Do you feel like you are alone in the darkness? Have you thought of taking your life? Don’t. The very fact you are troubled is confirmation that mercy is available. “The judgment of conscience remains a pledge of hope and mercy.”² Even in the valley of Achor (trouble),³ God opens a door of hope.

How I wish my friend had just re-read Matthew 9, once more, to see Christ healing longstanding problems: the paralytic, the woman with a hemorrhage, the two blind men, and the mute man. What are your problems and mine? Debt? Professional failure? Grave sin? None are beyond our Lord’s mercy. Christ even brought the official’s dead daughter back to life! Our Lord delights to heal and restore. (Amos 9:11) What was the only question Jesus asked the man who had been ill for 38 years?  ”Do you want to be well?” (John 5:6)

Christ waits for you, and for me, in the person of His priest in the confessional. “The door to the confessional is our door of hope.” Meanwhile, I can only pray for my friend . . . “May the souls of all the faithful departed, through the mercy of God, rest in peace.”

¹ The humility shown by the centurion in Matthew 8:8 and Luke 7:6-7.

² Catechism of the Catholic Church, paragraph 1781.

³ Hosea 2:17 (in protestant translations, 2:15).

Two years ago, during  the Easter Triduum, I wrote about Margaret Ridgeley Partridge’s text, “Pilgrim Pavement,” which Ralph Vaughan Williams so beautifully set to music. My purpose was to try to illuminate the nature of our Holy Week pilgrimage.

During the time since that post, I have often meditated on the richest line of her text:

O changing wheaten wafer, that veils the changeless One!

Think, if you will, how often—and in how many ways—our Savior is veiled.  I was reminded this morning, while reading Fr. William Barry’s, Finding God in All Things, that our Lord was literally veiled within the Blessed Virgin Mary: “Imagine . . . sending the Second Person of the Trinity to become a fetus, how tiny and frail the vessel of our salvation is at this point in time.”¹

Then imagine our Savior—The Changeless One of Eternity—veiled as a newborn in swaddling clothes. God in the flesh? Then imagine Him, veiled as a child, remarkable and seemingly precocious (Luke 2:41-50), but a child Who caused His parents to worry nonetheless. Our Lord and our God? Then imagine His glory, veiled during the years of His public ministry, standing in the temple declaring, “The Father and I are one” (John 10:22-31). One with the eternal I AM? “Blasphemy!” the religious elite declared. Then imagine His power, veiled, as He died on the cross in apparent defeat. This man was God? “If you are the Son of God, come down and we will believe!” (Matthew 27:40-42) Then imagine Him today—veiled in His Church, the mystical Body of Christ—at times frail, faltering, and even sinful. Really? This Church is really your mystical Body, continuing your work on earth, Lord?

Having pondered these things, is it so hard to accept that the true body, blood, soul, and divinity of our Lord is present in the Eucharist—the substance of the bread and wine transformed, as it was during the Last Supper and First Eucharist?

Thus we may pray as we approach the Altar, “O changing wheaten wafer, that veils the Changeless One!”

Jesus Christ. Christianity Richly!

¹ William Barry, SJ, Finding God in All Things (Notre Dame, IN: Ave Maria Press, 1991), p. 81.