Daily Reflection Thursday of the Tenth Week in Ordinary Time

What a difference my two recent cataract surgeries have made! "Let there be light!" -- a movement from the scary assumption when driving that small grey blobs were cars still at a distance, to now seeing the dust bunnies dancing on the kitchen floor in the early summer morning light.

Our Epistle writer Paul in today's lectionary passage knew nothing about cataracts, of course, but he uses the image of 'veil' for an equally dramatic then/now contrast. Writing to the church in Corinth, he celebrates the intimacy, the seeing, of the fullest expression of the glory of the Lord no longer veiled or hidden but revealed in the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus the Christ and the sending of the Spirit. When Moses had returned from his forty days and nights appearing before God on the mountaintop, his face still carried the imprint of the radiance of the living God, he writes to the Christian converts in that community. How much brighter will be the face of Christ shining in those who believe fully and authentically, the impediment to their understanding removed.

How good it is to count ourselves in that unveiled number. As a Catholic Christian woman of faith, I praise a God who said, "Let light shine out of darkness" and sent us the gift of his Son. I see the glory of God in the face of Jesus. My faith is a great gift. And yet... I wince a bit and wrestle with passages from Paul so filled with the zeal of an in-crowd, out-crowd construct. Summer looming on the calendar brings happy professional memories of planning and leading the annual Summer Institute at the College of Saint Elizabeth, where two weeks were always devoted to courses and lectures on Christian, Jewish, and Muslim dialogue. Speakers came to be friends and shared meals and barbeques in our home. What profound and rich conversations -- what deep and respectful listening -- happened there. I was challenged to question how I had been faithful to my own Christian tradition as I heard the stories of struggle from my guests to remain faithful to their own. Finding God in all things, in all peoples, in all who, as my former pastor used to pray, "call God by another name" -- this too is a blessing we share when we see with unveiled faces.

Loyola Jesuit Center's mission statement is "Accompanying all who seek a deeper friendship with God." Let's plan to take off any veil of smugness or arrogance that would indeed impede that journey of companioning, of accompanying. Let the joy of the Christ-centered life be our guide, with ears and hearts open to our companions on the way.