[I]n him you also are being built together into a dwelling place of God in the Spirit. // Ephesians 2:22

I like to think I can do quite a few things on my own. In reality, I rely upon my family, friends, and strangers for nearly everything. I can’t even cook a meal without the farmers who grew the food, the truckers who delivered it, the electricians who wired my home . . . you get the idea.

My spiritual life is no different. I can attend Mass, pray daily, offer up my sufferings, and still not create a perfect dwelling place in my life for God.

I need Jesus’ help.

I don’t even know what the “finished” me should look like, for “what we will be has not yet been revealed” (see 1 John 3:2); how would I even begin to build this dwelling place?

Saint Paul wrote of the dwelling place as a temple (see 1 Corinthians 3:16). Another traditional image is that of a garden of the heart. I’ve prayed with garden imagery before; mine is a little messy and definitely a work in progress. 

Lately I’ve imagined a deeper, almost hidden part of a garden, like the garden where Jesus was buried. In my prayer, I imagine my heart as a tomb. Let me explain.

Beautiful old Italian Stations of the Cross line the walls of my parish. Every Sunday as I approach to receive the Precious Blood of Christ, the final Station—Jesus is Laid in the Tomb—captures my gaze. I can’t help but think of the depths of my heart being like the tomb in which Jesus’ battered and bloody body was laid. 

Just as Jesus’ Resurrection brought new life, when He descends into the abyss of my heart (as Saint Elizabeth of the Trinity calls it), reaching further into the dark corners that need His Light, He brings new life to my soul. He recreates me into a beautiful dwelling place for God.

I can’t see what Jesus is tending to in the depths of my heart, but I trust that He is nurturing new life. It’s only with Him that I can become holy and my heart can be a dwelling place for God.