Finding a 17th-century tabernacle door filled me with questions. Its angelic face is carved from a single piece of wood— Time has peeled away layers of paint, leaving behind a weathered beauty. Its expression is a silent witness to countless moments of grace.
This door, opening to the mysteries of the Eucharist, has seen countless first communions, baptisms, and marriages. It has ushered souls into sacred union with the Divine. The sacredness it guarded flowed from one heart to another, from one generation to the next. Yet, as I look at it, I wonder why sacredness doesn’t flow -why the world remains so fractured? Haven’t we learned anything?
The door remains open, and the possibility of transformation is ever-present. I want to believe this.
Advent, Christmas, and the end of the year often make me more reflective than usual. And I find it more challenging not to do more for humanity. I feel a change in myself. Where it will lead, I do not know, but the undercurrent is pulling.
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