Mother Teresa once mandated that the words “I thirst” be painted on the wall beside each crucifix in all Missionaries of Charity chapels throughout the world.
In a letter to her sisters she wrote it is possible to “spend long hours in the chapel” but not actually see “with the eyes of your soul how he looks at you with love.”
“Do you really know Jesus?” the letter continues, “not from books but from being with him in your heart […] if you cannot hear Jesus speaking in your soul, you will not hear him say ‘I thirst’ in the hearts of the poor.”
Once we get a glimpse of Jesus’ thirst for our soul personally and for each soul around us, it is impossible to claim moral superiority (or any kind of superiority) over anyone else. We cannot discover his thirst without simultaneously discovering that it extends to every other soul created by God.
When we experience this thirst of Christ, the reflex to judge others is significantly reduced if not eradicated completely.
If the thirst of Jesus were truly heard and heeded for what it was, the world’s major problems would be solved in one fell swoop: war, abortion, poverty, unfettered capitalism, to name only a few of the world’s leading pandemics.
If we can let our unlovable aspects show, confident that they are not excluded from the longing of Christ, we have really begun. Christ not only lets us see our most despicable parts but he lets us see that our sinfulness actually increases his longing for our return home, for our communion with him.
God’s living word is incisive and revealing; it is “sharper than any double-edged sword, it penetrates even to dividing soul and spirit, joints and marrow; it judges the thoughts and attitudes of the heart” (Heb 4:12).
He knows us better than we know ourselves. If we never meet the gaze of Jesus in the silence, we will have a hard time ever homing in on our true identity. “Until you know deep inside that Jesus thirsts for you – you can’t begin to know who He wants to be for you. Or who He wants you to be for Him,” St. Teresa wrote to her sisters.
If St. Teresa of Kolkata felt it necessary to lovingly call out her sisters for superficiality in prayer, how much more relevant is it for us to consider her words?
As Lent approaches, consider the delight it would bring to Jesus if we were to commit to simply asking for eyes to see his thirst for souls, for our own soul. Essentially, we would be asking for the annihilation of our own plans and goals. Forty days is not too short a time to get a pretty accurate snapshot of “who he wants you to be for him.” Are you the person God wants you to be?
To sit in the silence waiting for Jesus’ gaze of love every day for 40 days is a bit daunting when we aren’t accustomed to slowing down our minds. But, if we can commit a small amount of time daily to reading a short Scripture passage and praying to the Holy Spirit to open our hearts, surely Jesus will visit us in a way we will come to recognize.
There can be no hiding from God’s penetrating gaze; but once we are seen and loved, we cannot help but look for Jesus everywhere and in everyone, that we may love him in the “distressing disguise of the poor,” as Mother Teresa says.
