One of my favorite places in the world is the Adoration Chapel at my parish church. It is a simple, bare chapel of wood with many large windows and light streaming. The chapel is in the round, with the Eucharistic altar in the center, the heart of our church from which life flows. The monstrance, which holds the Body, Blood, Soul, and Divinity of Jesus is on an altar created to image the ark of the covenant from the Old Testament. The altar on which the monstrance rests is built from limestone slabs rejected from the façade of the Empire State building. “The stone which has been rejected, has become the corner stone . . . .”
I am a broken stone, and I come to this place for the slow gluing back together of soul and sinew, this remembering what it means to be whole, and to be wholly God’s. In today’s Gospel, Jesus rebukes the Pharisees for demanding a sign. They have the knowledge of all the prophets, Scripture, and the law. They have the witness of Jonah and Solomon and all those who came before, neon arrows pointing to the man standing before them. Yet they, hardhearted and blind demand a sign, as though they were entitled to anything.
No, a sign will not be given them. When you are in the presence of Jesus, signs are no longer needed. You have arrived. Christ is the destination; He is that which all signs lead to. They are in His presence and yet have not arrived. Eyes that cannot see that something greater than even the prophets stands before them, they are men who know everything but are aware of nothing. Sleepwalking through life. How often am I like them? Then I come into this space which all signs lead me toward, and awakening fills me: Something greater is here.
Today, may you see the signs pointing you toward Jesus, the something greater who is, at last, the destination our souls seek.
Sarah Babbs is a writer and mother of three, including twin toddlers. She writes about faith, social teaching, and navigating life as a motherless daughter and mother. You can find out more about her here.