Where is Jesus?
On the cross. On the way. In the light. In a child's smile. When we gather. In each other. In the woman that makes me feel so inferior. In the homeless man standing at the turn onto Cicero at Midway. In a challenge. Hidden. Gathering our prayers. Where we least expect him.
And what happens when he meets us...because that's what it is, isn't it? He meets us. We try and try to get closer to him, don't we? We try to pray more, to read more, to be nicer more, to sit and meditate more, to reach for him. And although that might make us more willing and open to receive him. He meets us--like he met Saul, as we're breathing threats of death and murder, or the disciples, who threw in the towel and went fishing. They weren't trying to see Jesus--hell, he was right in front of them, and didn't see him. But, Jesus met them in spite of themselves. And when he did, their world changed...for the first time, and yet again...and Saul was sent to proclaim the same gospel of those whom he killed; and the disciples were sent on a journey that led to the same fate.
Jesus meets us time and time again. And when he does, our entire lives are transformed. When he does, we'll never be the same...