First Reading: Eph. 2:12-22
Ps. 85:9-14
Gospel: Lk. 12:35-38
It was a cloudy day. Vigilantly
watching from his perch on the bell tower, the sandstone gargoyle looked down upon the unfinished cathedral. Sullen
eyes and cheerless grin, he asked himself:
“How did it come to be, that I find myself here?“It seems so long ago,” he said, “when I laid in comfort and peace amidst the mud and fray of the earth.
“I had no desire except to stay there; but then He came.
“He said to me: ‘Do you wish to see who you really are? Do you wish to soar above this mundane existence?
“’How could someone ask for less?’ I thought. I did not understand, but I said ‘Yes.’”
As the gargoyle
brooded, the rain commenced, and collected like tears on his face. If
he could have raged at this moment, he would have screamed.
“How was I to know He’d use
me this way?” the gargoyle
said.
“When he took me from the earth, a formless block, I
eagerly waited to see. Was I to be a foundation stone for the great ‘temple sacred?’ (Eph. 2:22) Or
maybe I was to take my place nestled against the very altar itself.“But He would only say:
‘Patience, my friend, for you will soar. Content yourself in knowing that my Will for you is to be blessed.’
Whatever that means.”
The sun broke through the storm and struck the gargoyle’s
face like a gentle caress. But the tears were want to leave.
“I thought to myself,” the gargoyle said, “that maybe I would become a statue in whose image I’d stand
strong. Our Lady, perhaps, or Aquinas or
Joseph. A cherub would do.
"But He would only say: ‘Patience, my friend. Trust in me and I will uncover the <You> I seek.’
Whatever that means.”
“Then He laid hold of me,” the
gargoyle said, “chisel in hand and satisfaction
on his face…”
“Or was it love?”
“Regardless, he etched away and cut and broke until I was nothing
more than a decoration, a trifle; a thing that only darkness
could make lovely.”
“I asked Him
for a reason – ‘Why?! Why should I
be so wretched?’” “He replied:
‘Patience, my friend. Each has his place in this temple, and yours is right next to me.’
“Whatever that means…”
This particular idea had always perplexed the gargoyle when
he thought of it. What could it mean? He
seemed so far removed from the activity below.
He had been, quite literally stuck
as the sentinel on the bell tower, lonely
and cold while the rest of the
temple echoed with Hosanna’s
and Alleluia’s.
As he asked this question to himself for seemingly the thousandth
time, he noticed the capstone
being lifted into place (Eph. 2:21): The cathedral was almost complete. As it was set, he noticed that it was a cross – a beaming cross of gold that acted as a mirror for him, sitting just above him, within arm’s reach. The gargoyle could see his reflection in it – transformed by the gleam of the sun’s rays, piercing the darkness around him and in him.
As he peered into the Cross’ message of love, the gargoyle saw that his scales had been replaced with feathers. In this instant, Love and truth had met within him (see Ps. 85:11), embracing him with outstretched arms.
From the cross, the gargoyle-turned-angel heard:
“My vigilant friend (see Lk. 12:37), do you see now? Can you see who you are to me?The angel replied. “Yes, my Lord.”
Tears of joy and love and hope were flowing freely now, as with a sigh the angel cried:
“I see now, because I
see myself in Your eyes,
and that
is ALL that matters.
“I see that I am
yours, and you are mine.” 