​I am quite fond of a painting which depicts a man walking on a desert road in New Mexico. The man is described by the artist as an abuelo, a grandfather, a character which appears in many of his works. The abuelo always has a partially empty bottle of liquor in one coat pocket, is a little bit bent over, and walks with a cane. His face is rarely seen since he is usually walking away from the viewer. In this particular painting, however, he is walking toward the viewer with the sun at his back and thus, his shadow is in front of him. In this is revealed my favorite part of the painting; only visible in the shadow, is his heart. We have heard the expression about ‘wearing our heart on our sleeve’ which refers to someone who expresses emotions freely without attempting to hide them. Sometimes this saying is used to infer that emotion ‘for all to see’ is a fault, as if the person cannot hide anything, but ought to. It can also mean “to be ‘guileless,’ meaning there is no insincerity or pretense to them.”* In the painting, the visible heart reveals that this man is someone with almost no pretense; he seems to hide little. While his heart is not depicted on his sleeve, which is really only an idiom anyhow, he is willing to share it, to make it vulnerable, and even to risk that it be trod upon. This is what the gospels call us to do: to allow our hearts to be made visible, just as Jesus did.

In reading the gospels it is clear that Jesus was transparent. He never hid His intentions while teaching publicly in order that He might attract followers who could then receive the gift He offered. It was for this that Jesus came. He healed people, worked miracles of all sorts, preached, and even suffered and died in full view of the public. He was true to His own teaching: He said, “No one who lights a lamp conceals it with a vessel or sets it under a bed; rather, he places it on a lampstand so that those who enter may see the light.” (Luke 8:16) In other words, we are to make no secret of our Christianity by living as if we are ‘double agents’ with a spiritual life somehow separated from our public life. We do not live two lives, but one. While Jesus did say to pray and do good works in secret, He meant that we were not to seek reward or acclaim, but rather to do good things in His’ name with humility. As to how we live our daily lives, it ought to be clear to others that we are Christian.

There is a hymn called “They Will Know We Are Christians by Our Love.” The lyrics describe how others will know who we are because of the love with which we live. This is exactly what the gospel message of Jesus is about: we are to live as transparently as He did. Those who we consider holy, the saints, all lived this way. They were about love which was offered as forgiveness, mercy, works of service, humility, prayerfulness, and that which they taught in words when necessary. Jesus taught His disciples to do these things even after His resurrection: they were to spread the gospel to the ends of the earth. They were to do as Peter and John did in the Temple area when they gave a lame beggar what they had. Peter said to him, “I have neither silver nor gold, but what I do have, I give to you: in the name of Jesus Christ the Nazorean, arise and walk.” The man leapt up, praising God. (Acts 3: 1-10) Those who would be known as Christians were to feed the hungry, clothe the naked, visit the ill and imprisoned, give shelter to those without it, give a cup of water to a poor one, set the captive free, (the lonely, wounded, abandoned, despairing alien and outcast). They shared what they had through almsgiving and even ate their meals “with exultation and sincerity of heart.” (Acts 3:46) These folks wore their hearts on their sleeves; undeniably their hearts belonged to Jesus Christ.

As Christians, we, too, are called to wear our hearts on our sleeves, not in sentimentality and ‘over-the-top’ effusion of emotion, but rather we are called to share our love openly and generously. There is never a reason to hide our hearts in the shadows or only let them meekly peek out. We are called to wear our hearts and our mercy on our sleeves; we are called to wear our faith, hope, and love on our sleeves. Indeed, we are called to wear the gospel on our sleeves. Our faith, recently expressed in the renewal of our baptismal promises at Easter, is about living the Christian life openly and unabashedly. We can do more than we realize if we wear the gospels, and therefore our love, ‘on our sleeve’ in our daily lives. We have been empowered to do so through the Sacraments and we can continue to grow in the power of love through prayer and frequent reception of Reconciliation and the Eucharist. During the Easter season we celebrate that Jesus arose through the power of love, the love He ‘wore’ openly by revealing His heart to everyone. As His followers we must choose to do this, too; that is, to wear His heart, entwined with our own, on our sleeves.

May we wear our heart, entwined with that of Jesus, on our sleeves that others may receive of His love! May we have the courage to follow Jesus as disciples, leading others to the Kingdom through our words and actions! And may we be inspired to live humbly and with mercy by frequently reading the gospels! Let us continue to meet in the Heart of Jesus! Alleluia! Peace!

                         ©Michele L. Catanese
​

​*As defined in the Google Dictionary, "also guileless: devoid of guile; innocent and without deception."
Images:
1. My photo, inset of an oil painting, The Long Walk Home by Ed Sandoval. I have a signed poster of this painting, so I took a photo of it and then cropped it so the heart of the abuelo could be more visible. 
2. My photo, a chunk of glacial ice held by my husband, Tony. I chose this photo because this is the clearest, most transparent chunk of ice I have ever seen. It literally was taken from a small iceberg in a glacial lake near Mt. Cook, New Zealand
3. Painting, St. Peter Healing the Cripple, by Mancini, 1748. This is found at the altar of St. Peter in St. Peter's Basilica, Vatican City. http://stpetersbasilica.info/Altars/StPeter-Cripple/StPeter-Cripple.htm
4. My photo, on the Dart River, Glenorchy, New Zealand. The water was incredibly clear on this river.
5. Icon, Christ All Merciful, by Fr. William Hart McNichols. You can find this at https://fineartamerica.com/featured/christ-all-merciful-022-william-hart-mcnichols.html

NOTE: In compliance with GDPR rules, I wish to make it clear that I do not gather any information on any of my readers at any time. 

When a person has an experience that fills them with joy, quite often they become somewhat radiant. Joy gives life to the heart to the degree that it cannot be hidden in the eyes or on the face. This is said of pregnant women whose faces become brighter. It is probably due to the wonder of having a baby and that both mother and child are rich with the gift of new life. The radiance of love also becomes evident in those who are holy; this is why artists add a nimbus (halo) around their head. Mary, the mother of Jesus, is the best example of this radiance. Being full of grace, she already had the luster of holiness, but after she said ‘Yes’ and her womb was filled with the Son of God, she would have outshone the angel Gabriel who came to her: within her was the extraordinary beauty of Love who is God. But even greater than that is the Extraordinary Beauty that broke through in the Risen Christ who shattered the darkness of sin and death. Jesus, who once was dead, now lives. And though the world is still subject to the attacks of darkness that try to snuff out the light, we know that the light of Christ is always victorious. The glory of God was manifested at the empty tomb and is unequaled in beauty: it is the very fire of love that burns within Jesus, the Risen Lord Himself.

The radiance of Easter morning is reminiscent of these prophetic words: “Rise up in splendor! Your light has come, the glory of the Lord shines upon you… over you appears his glory…. Then you shall be radiant at what you see, your heart shall throb and overflow….” (Isaiah 60:1-5) Even though this passage is associated more with the Feast of the Epiphany of the Lord, I cannot think of an epiphany greater than the Resurrection of Jesus. On the morning of the third day after He died, Jesus appeared suddenly and unexpectedly, (which is what an epiphany is), illumining the women who came to purify His body. The three women were startled by witnessing radiant angels within the empty tomb where the dead body of Jesus had been. At least one of them, Mary Magdalene, ran to where the apostles were in hiding and brought them the first declaration of the Good News: “Jesus lives!” Just as to Mary Magdalene, the glorified, Risen Jesus brought lucidity (light)* to those who witnessed Him when He stood before them. And although it brought lucidity to their minds, it also brought it to their hearts and souls: some of what Jesus had said and done became clearer to the disciples after the Resurrection, but now, their hearts were afire, too.  

While all of the people who encountered the Risen Jesus became filled with joy, the one encounter that was not written about in the gospels had to be the most exquisite, and that is the meeting between Jesus and His mother, Mary. Indeed, it was too intimate for the evangelists to recount, though perhaps they all knew of it. Whatever the reason, we can rightly assume that Jesus appeared to Mary first and that her radiance must have eclipsed, (or at the very least equaled), the radiance with which she was filled at the Annunciation. At the Annunciation two extraordinary beauties intersected: the immaculate one, Mary, and the glory of God, the Holy Spirit who filled her with the love that was beyond all telling. Therefore, when the Risen Jesus appeared to His mother, her radiance, having been dimmed by grief, must have grown in beauty again. Interestingly, it is said that when Mary appeared to humble ones throughout the centuries, such as to St. Juan Diego or St. Bernadette Soubirous, she was so radiant that they could hardly describe her beauty. And for example, when a statue of Mary was being made for the new basilica at Lourdes, the artists tried numerous times to recreate what Bernadette described, but none of them could capture what she had seen of Mary’s extraordinary beauty.

The source of extraordinary beauty is our Risen Lord Jesus. Just as the beauty of the Resurrection intersected with the apostles and the Blessed Virgin Mary, so too does this same Beauty yearn to intersect with us. If we hope to grow into faithful, holy disciples, we must seek Jesus always, inviting Him to enter into our hearts to illuminate us in the same way as He did with His first followers. And if we are overwhelmed or burdened by what we experience of the world, we need to turn to the extraordinary beauty of Jesus as well as that of Mary who always leads us to Him. Their beauty is the fire of their love for us; that is, we are their sons and daughters, brothers and sisters, and beloved friends. When we turn to them, and allow them to enter into our lives in a renewed way, that extraordinary beauty, indescribable mercy and love, flows within us so we might in turn become more beautiful, that is, holier. It empowers us to live the gospel and to reach out to our neighbors. Let us become like the saints and holy ones who inspire and teach us, imitating Jesus by sharing in the gifts and the love we have been given. In so doing, we glorify God by sharing the joy of the Resurrection; and then we too shall become radiant.

May we stand in joy, wonder and awe, glorifying the Risen Jesus! May the radiance of Jesus’ love fill us! May we be like the Blessed Virgin Mary, our mother, directing others toward her Risen Son Jesus! May our Easter joy propel us outward toward our brothers and sisters in service and love! And may we give thanks and praise for the extraordinary beauty of God poured out upon us! Let us meet in the heart of the Savior! Alleluia! Peace!
                                                                 
                                                                     ©Michele L. Catanese

* The origin of the word lucid is the Latin, lucidus, “equivalent to luc, stem of lux.” (Dictionary.com) That is, the root of lucid, lux, means ‘light;’ so when I say the presence of the Risen Jesus brought the apostles lucidity, I intend a reference to the light of Christ, the fire of love. This love illuminates.

Images:
1. Fresco painting, Resurrection of Christ and Women at the Tomb, by Bl. Fra Angelico. This is painted on the wall in one of the cells (monks rooms) at San Marco, in Florence, Italy.
2. Painting, Resurrection, by Matthias Grünewald. (1512–1516) This is part of the Isenheim Altarpiece. It is on display at the Unterlinden Museum at Colmar, Alsace, in France.
3. Icon, The Risen Christ Appears to His Mother by Fr. William Hart McNichols. You can find this at https://fineartamerica.com/featured/the-risen-christ-appears-to-his-mother-217-william-hart-mcnichols.html
4. Painting, Jesus I Trust in You; this was painted to depict how St. Faustina saw Jesus in a vision. He told her to have this image painted. I chose it because of the 'pale light and the red light' which emanated from His heart.
5. My photo, Gulf of Mexico at Gulf Shores, Alabama. There had been a storm which dissipated just in time for sunset to illuminate the sky and bathe everything in gold. I used it here to be symbolic of the extraordinary beauty of the Risen Christ.

NOTE: In compliance with GDPR rules, I wish to make it clear that I do not gather any information on any of my readers at any time.