what i thought about in the moment of silence after the sermon

Anyone who welcomes you welcomes me, and anyone who welcomes me welcomes the one who sent me. Whoever welcomes a prophet as a prophet will receive a prophet’s reward, and whoever welcomes a righteous person as a righteous person will receive a righteous person’s reward. And if anyone gives even a cup of cold water to one of these little ones who is my disciple, truly I tell you, that person will certainly not lose their reward.
— Matthew 10:40-42

When people talk about their personal relationship with Jesus, when I see people wearing t-shrts that proclaim Jesus is my BFF, I wonder.

I want to ask them if they could be a little more specific.

Except for the intense union of the Eucharist each week - when I see Jesus, I see him standing on a hillside, within shouting distance (but not shouting), looking at me. He's just standing there, in peace, gazing. And I sit here in the grass and gaze back.

I often feel...perhaps it's more accurate to say I constantly feel...that he is asking something of me, that he called me to him for a reason. There's something he wants me to do. For him, for Love, in his Church. I feel it pressing in my heart like a bruise. 

But I also place a barrier there, a little wall, so that I can't quite hear what it is. I want to know but some part of me doesn't want to know, so here we are. Gazing.

And he is abundantly patient.

Except that I have just been reminded that when God asks us to do something and we don't do it, God moves on to the next person. (The way Elizabeth Gilbert says it is with inspiration.) And I do believe that's true.

And I don't want God to move on with this request.

This thing that goes on between me and Jesus, this exceptionally quiet conversation, is not something that can be summed up on a t-shirt.

It isn't happy.

Or simple.

But then I think, maybe it is simple. Right now, in this moment. Maybe I don't have to understand or know or hear or be anything other than this.

Maybe I can be the person with the cup of water.