I
began to walk around the space slowly looking at the statues in the various
alcoves, stopping to try to interpret the stories depicted in the paintings and
by the figures.
The large brown eyes of
the saints, looking up to heaven, experiencing God’s presence in their lives,
haunted me. So solemn, so dark, they seemed, lit only by the lights of small
votive candles left as a prayer offering.
I
saw Mary, emblazoned with gold, looking at the wounds her son endured. He was covered in deep, red blood and jeweled
stones made water seem to pour from her eyes. Mary, the mother of God, the
feminine face of God, came alive for me as I witnessed her mourning the loss of
her son. I could see her sorrow. I could feel her sorrow. I had a certain knowing of her sorrow then. She, who experienced the pain of motherhood way
beyond what I could comprehend.
As
I approached the main altar, I looked up in awe. The ceilings were so high,
arched and beautiful. The stained glass
allowed in just enough colored light to cast a contrast of light and dark
shadows on the crucifix. I proceeded
into the main area and took a seat on one of the hard, wooden benches. Just as I looked up again, one thin beam of
light seemed to light up Christ’s face.
His big, dark eyes were looking upwards.
He was clearly in pain and sorrow.
This was not what his humanness could endure and I was immediately
struck with a thought,
“He died for
ME!”
The altar was full of flowers and skulls and there almost
seemed to be smoke rising up in the beams of light to the ceiling. Almost like an echo, I heard singing coming
through the cathedral as some monks began to chant. It was very calming and beautiful. I sat for
a few moments to ponder. Slowly a prayer formed in my head and in the beating
of my heart and my slow steady breathing. I had a strong realization of the presence
of Christ with me.
“Christ
died for ME!”
I
knew he was a man of sorrows, many losses, pain and death. This was the dark story portrayed in this place. But I also knew as I walked slowly out of the
dark cathedral, that just as the bright light of the afternoon Spanish sun hit
my face and I looked up towards the sky, that there was something greater than
death that followed. There was to be a
resurrection to this story. There was
light, renewal, and hope.
“Christ
died for ME!
Yet He also LIVES for me!”
"Never resign yourself to the
Inevitable
For the inevitable is what has been buried with
the rising of the unimaginable."
-Easter Service
Roots of Life Community
Noblesville, IN
