The habit of recognition

“New Creation” by Ned Buster

Having said this, she turned around and saw Jesus standing, but she did not know that it was Jesus. Jesus said to her, “Woman, why are you weeping? Whom are you seeking?” Supposing him to be the gardener, she said to him, “Sir, if you have carried him away, tell me where you have laid him, and I will take him away.” Jesus said to her, “Mary.” She turned and said to him in Aramaic, “Rabboni!” (which means Teacher). 
(John 20:14-16)

“Honey…you need some glasses. I’m surprised you even passed.”
 
Those were the words the DMV worker told me as I scraped by at age 15 to get my learner’s permit. I had no idea that my eyesight was bad. I still didn’t know just how bad until I put my new glasses on for the first time…
 
I was astounded. 
 
Had I ever really seen anything before that moment?
 
It all began to make sense. I remember in biology class, using the microscope, always having to refocus it thinking my lab partner wasn’t very good at this science thing, only to have them turn those knobs once more and look back at me with puzzlement, as if to convey the same thing.
 
When I finally got my glasses, I felt like life had changed in an instant! I wonder if that feeling I felt is close to what Mary Magdalene must have felt when she heard this man, whom she thought was the gardener, say her name. 
 
In an instant, everything changed.
 
Until that moment of recognition, she only saw death and sorrow. But when Jesus called to her, “Mary…” everything clicked into place and she was able to see things as they really and truly are.
 
I have been trying to build this habit of recognition in my own life. I am so easily persuaded that there is nothing good to be had in the midst of my circumstances. That there are only occasions for sorrow or exhaustion. But if I can wait just a moment and hear our God call to me—in his Word, or through a song we sing together at church, or in coming to the sacrament—then perhaps everything will click. Perhaps everything will come into focus.
 
In these moments I can recognize things as they truly are. It’s not that everything magically becomes good, but recognizing that God is good. And so when I grieve, I can be one who grieves with hope in the resurrection. When I feel isolated, I can recognize that Jesus promised to never leave or forsake me. When I feel hopeless, I can recognize that there are people in this church who can hope for me. 

(Written by Jim Pulizzi)