From The Gospel According To Tomàs
On the square: a church with no regular priest. Still, the church was open, that first exploration, and it was clean, loved and well-maintained. Prayerful, you might say. The interior walls new brick. Simple and holy. Two women were making arrangements with the flowers and such like and they looked at me blankly then upon enquiry in Spanish they told me there was to be a Mass on Sunday.
Dogs howling, I went along to that Mass on Sunday, reasonably clean, and wondering what would happen if you let them out, the dogs, assuming I could probably take one with a fist while the other mauled me. A new-ish black-ish T-shirt, and pumps and blue jeans, my favourite rosary threaded through a belt-link and into my jeans pocket. Thinking that in terms of probabilities, they were at something of a fanciful edge of their breeding – in a northern clime. But there were so many people – when you’d expect an old priest and a couple of grannies and me! It turned out it was a First Communion – as I unpacked the scene. A bristling copse of children arranged at the church door – pews ram-packed with family, dressed to the nines, and otherwise admirers, dressed to the nines – while the kids were in sailor-suits, miniature army-wear, braid and epaulettes, little white wedding dresses – for the girls.
All the flashing ipads in the world were there! The priest’s thumb and ring-finger pinched the air and gesticulated heavenward. Love, love, love. Cada uno de vosotros es un pensamiento único en la mente de Dios… (A fine sentiment.) I, having slotted in toward the rear of the church, snuck a look at them over my shoulder. There was an energy about it. A warmth and a solicitude welled beneath the Andalucian and the prickly specificity – gaudy and unfathomable rhythms of deepest Spain. They waited at the foot of the aisle to parade. I caught one boy’s eyes catching mine, as so many of them so often seem to. And smiled – the boy sheepishly, tucked himself in. I smiled – or if not quite that, then I deliberately softened the face that had grown on my old face.
For, at some point along the way, my face hardened, though it seems crazy to think that, with some people, the most casual scrutiny might be perceived as a steely glare. Give, sympathize, protect. (That furtive gaze. The furtive whisper. That – offer. So immediately offered as withdrawn.)
They are funny with it, children, and these yet that. All squishy on the inside, within the tightest-of-tight definitions, ingrained to a ruthless exclusion and little worlds, so urgently pursued on their part. Their outsides in serial-projection of all they get thrown at them.
My instincts, the counsellor explained, are hyper-corrective – predictably symptomatic given the formative experience. Love-instincts healing-to-a-fault. To give, to heal, to throw one’s life away. This is the consequence, this the hamartia, the predictable model, for there is nothing new under the sun, like the counsellor said it was.
So, then, employ relaxed eyes. Smile like a memory-implant – like a real-unreal synthetic fudging issues. Don’t get close. Make like your thoughts are blown like leaves in Christian prayer…
I continue to experience the seeing of a genuinely happy and integrated child as so different – and myself as so deservedly apart. (To speak truth, one basic likelihood is that I am simply jealous.)
They find my eyes. They find my – Tomàs’s eyes. Namaste… (How I longed when I was thirteen-fourteen, fifteen-sixteen. How I longed…) But there is literally nothing there. I was never there – and I have done so much to annihilate everything. They are so small and they are so far away… And it has been such a long time – years, years.
Gospel Reading: Matthew 25:35-36 (KJV) ‘For I was an hungred, and ye gave me no meat: I was thirsty, and ye gave me no drink: I was a stranger, and ye took me not in: Naked, and ye clothed me not: I was sick, and ye visited me not: I was in prison, and ye came unto me not.’ Reflection on the Gospel In these verses, Jesus speaks about compassion and how our actions towards others reflect our love for Jesus. Jesus teaches us that by caring for those in need, we are also caring for Jesus. This passage challenges us to look beyond ourselves and extend kindness and mercy to those around us. Prayer Heavenly Father, I come to you asking for a heart filled with compassion. Help me to see others through your eyes, to feel their pain, and to be moved to action. Teach me to love and care for those who are suffering, just as Jesus did. Let my actions reflect your love and bring comfort to those in need. Thank you for your endless compassion and grace. In Jesus’ name, I pray. Amen. Personal Reflection I think about a time when I was in need and someone showed me compassion. How did it make me feel? Now, I consider a time when I had the opportunity to help someone else. How did my actions impact them? Compassion is more than just feeling sympathy for others; it is about taking action to alleviate their suffering. By practicing compassion, I bring God’s love into the world. Meditation On The Prayer And Gospel Compassion begins with recognizing the humanity in others and responding with love and kindness. Jesus’ words in Matthew 25:35-36 remind me that my treatment of others is a reflection of my relationship with Jesus. This is not only a call to action but an invitation to embody God’s love in my daily life. As I meditate on this prayer, I remember the story of the Good Samaritan. Despite being a stranger, the Samaritan showed great compassion to a wounded traveler, demonstrating the kind of love Jesus calls me to show. This story illustrates that true compassion knows no boundaries and is driven by love. I think about those in my community who are in need. I visualize their faces and hold them in my thoughts. I imagine Jesus standing with me, encouraging me to extend compassion and kindness. I feel the warmth of Jesus’ love as I commit to making a difference in their lives. Compassion is not just about grand gestures but also about small acts of kindness that can transform someone’s day. It involves listening, understanding, and being present for others. As I practice compassion, I become a vessel of God’s grace, reflecting Jesus’ love to those around me. Prayer Lord Jesus, thank you for your example of compassion. Help me to follow your footsteps and show love to those in need. Grant me the strength and courage to act with kindness and mercy. Fill my heart with empathy and understanding, and let your love be evident in all that I do. Amen. Scripture Reading: Colossians 3:12 (KJV) ‘Put on therefore, as the elect of God, holy and beloved, bowels of mercies, kindness, humbleness of mind, meekness, longsuffering;’ Blessing May the compassion of God fill my heart and guide my actions. May His grace empower me to show love and kindness to those in need. Go forth in His love, extending mercy and compassion to all you meet. Amen.
Psalm 59 is attributed to King David. The psalm resonates with themes of seeking protection from enemies, finding refuge in God, and grappling with the challenges of a troubled world. The psalm embodies a deep sense of trust and reliance on the divine, portraying God as the ultimate source of strength, defence, and justice in the face of adversity [ … ]
Capernaum was a small city on the crossroad of two important routes, one from Asia Minor, leading to Petra on the south of the Transjordan, the other from the region of the two rivers, the Tigris and Euphrates, descending toward Egypt. Jesus’ move to Capernaum helped his contact with the people, and so the spreading of the Good News [ … ]
