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1 John 1:8-9
If we say
that we have no sin, we deceive ourselves, and the truth is not in us. If
we confess our sins, he who is faithful and just will forgive us our sins and
cleanse us from all unrighteousness.
Hold me to it
A black Jesus drew me into to a side chapel in the
great Gothic cathedral in Barcelona, Spain, last fall. I almost walked by but
the sight of him on the cross would not let me.
He was leprous and beaten, bearing the pangs of death as
he hung before a half-dozen people praying among the spare wooden benches facing
the crucifix.
I took my place among the benches and watched him. A great
love for every suffering of every human soul whispered from the crucifix, “This
love will never abandon you. This love will meet you everywhere you go. Look at
me … and know. There is no place this love will not go for you.”
I sat and prayed—offering my unanswered questions, the
wounds from which I ache to be healed, my uncertainty about the future, my craving
to feel the joy of God’s love warming me through.
When words were done I walked to the back of the chapel
but still couldn’t leave. Turing to the crucifix, I shook my finger at Jesus.
“I’m holding you to this … this love,” I whispered. I’m holding you to this.”
“It’s okay,” came his reply. “That’s what I am for.
Hold me to it.”
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