Shawn and I recently watched the movie, Of Gods and Men, together. It is a powerful story about courage, faith, community and trust which follows the lives of 9 Cistercian monks living in a monastery in Algeria in a largely Muslim area. The movie focuses on their struggle with how to respond to the threat of extremist Muslim groups who were active in their area: do they stay and risk violence and even martyrdom or do they flee and leave behind the people they are there to serve? It is a beautiful exploration of religious life and shows the brothers grappling with the threat of martyrdom both individually and as a group.
There is one brother in particular who has always stood out to me, Brother Christophe. The movie shows him going on a journey through struggling to hear God. They are all dealing with the stress and anxiety of the threat of violence and even death. Brother Christophe, at the beginning of the film, is of the opinion that they should just flee. He doesn’t want to throw his life away. During this intense period, we see him praying in his room saying, “Help me, help me. Don’t abandon me. Don’t abandon me, please! Help me!” This isn’t just any prayer, it is the shouted anguish of a tormented man. We see his fellow brothers, including his religious superior, sitting pensively in their own rooms, listening to his shouts through the walls. In that moment, they can’t console him and they know it.
Next, we see Brother Christophe kneeling in front of the altar in their chapel, with the sunlight pouring through the window on him. Although he still doesn’t appear to be completely at peace, he hasn’t stopped praying. Later in the film, we see brother Christophe out for a walk with the superior of their group, Brother Christian. They speak frankly about his struggles and in the end, Brother Christian reminds Brother Christophe that he has already given his life to be a religious brother. They share a warm embrace.
Finally, towards the end of the film, we see Brother Christophe in his room once again, a peaceful smile on his face. He prays, “You. You envelope me, hold me, surround me. You embrace me. And I love you.” I always get choked up at that moment. His storyline is such a compelling portrayal of one man’s experience of God’s Divine Mercy, which we celebrate today.
This Feast is the octave day of Easter, where we conclude the eight-day celebration marking the day of Jesus’ resurrection. Today, God wants to remind all of us that the purpose of Jesus’ going to the Cross and defeating death was so that each of us could experience the goodness of His Divine Mercy. Many of us misunderstand mercy. We look at mercy simply as taking pity on somebody. But it is much more than that. The deepest form of mercy is when love meets suffering. This can take many forms. Maybe it is an embrace from a loved one when you need it the most. Maybe it is a consoling word that helps pierce the darkness in your heart. Maybe, like Brother Christophe, it is that sense of God’s closeness in prayer at just the right time. Those types of moments are the most potent, because when God, in His mercy, comes to us, He gives us Himself. This is the height of mercy, Divine Mercy, God’s love coming to envelope us in our suffering due to sin.
In those darkest moments, we have only to look at the image of Divine Mercy that Jesus encouraged St. Faustina to have painted. That image shows us just what the attitude of the Risen Lord is. He wants to remind each of us that in our suffering, sin and darkness, He always draws close to allow us to be touched by the grace pouring from his wounded side. You can see that one foot is in front of the other in the image. He is coming to you and me. The white and red rays coming from his wounded side remind us that just like the blood and water which once flowed out from His heart when the soldier pierced His side on the Cross, so now His love flows out upon each of us who are saved by His Divine Mercy.
That mercy comes to us above all in those amazing Sacraments which are encounters with His mercy: the Eaucharist and Baptism. The white ray reminds us of the water which flowed from Jesus’ open heart, those waters which point us to the saving waters of Baptism, which permanently claimed us as adopted children of God and washed away our sins. The red ray reminds us of the great gift of the body and blood of Christ given to us in the Eucharist to nourish us, giving us the strength of Jesus’ Divine Mercy each time we consume Him. When we approach the altar to receive the Blessed Sacrament at this and every Mass, it is an opportunity to encounter the living and risen Christ and to spiritually encounter his risen body like Thomas did when the Lord invited him to put his pand into the wound on his gloriously risen side.
It is in these moments that Jesus reminds us that He doesn’t abandon us in our struggles. Thomas, traumatized by the brutal slaying of his beloved Master, couldn’t bring himself to believe the words of his fellow Apostles. So the Lord, in His HUmble mercy, responded to the desperate call of Thomas to touch His wounds. He came to Thomas in his weakness and gave him the strength to cry out in faith: ““My Lord and my God!” He is patient with us and knows just the right moments come to reveal Himself to us and help us drink in His mercy.
If you find yourself in that dark place like Brother Christophe or St. Thomas, know that the Lord wants to draw close to you in His time. His mercy is always there for you, His love flowing out on your suffering to transform it. Never forget His closeness. Many times, He will show you that closeness through the friends He has put in your path: like the brothers surrounding brother Christophe and the Apostles alongside Thomas. In their struggles, they didn’t draw away from others or even God. They put themselves in a place to be found, with God’s help. In our darkest moments, the Lord gently invites each of us to lean on those He places in our paths. They will be messengers of mercy for us. And above all, He invites us to look for Him and not stop praying. In His risen glory, Jesus constantly is able to touch us and give us the assurance we need that He is here, and that His grace is enough to strengthen and console us, whatever our struggle.
+ Heavenly Father, thank you for the Divine Mercy you have poured out on the whole world through your risen son. Jesus, please be our strength in those dark moments. Help us have the faith to say, “Jesus, I trust in you,” during those moments of struggle. Holy Spirit, give us eyes to see the Divine Mercy at work in our suffering. We ask this in the name of Jesus, our risen Lord. Amen. +