Become What You Behold
Remember the Gospel story of the Transfiguration — that great event when Christ’s glory was revealed to three of His disciples as He was transformed in front of their eyes on Mt. Tabor?
I’ve often wondered who was really transformed that day. The Fathers of the Church teach that Jesus was not changed but was transfigured in their sight. It wasn’t that He was suddenly different, but rather that, through a special grace, the veil was lifted for a while from their eyes, and they were allowed to see some of the glory that was always His.
Jesus wasn’t just “showing off.” Because of all that would happen later, these men needed to see who Jesus really was. The “Tabor experience” became a touchstone for them, an event they could look back upon and draw strength from. Remembering the glory they had seen, they came to understand more fully who Jesus was and who they were called to be.
What does this have to do with the Divine Mercy Image?
Everything. There are thousands of different versions of the Divine Mercy Image that have been created by artists from all over the world in the last 60 years. But there is one important fact I would like you to remember: There is only ONE Divine Mercy Image.
That may seem a bit contradictory at first, but it’s not. There is only ONE Divine Mercy Image. Yes, there are many versions (just as there are many different sizes, shapes, and styles of crucifixes, each attempting to represent the one actual cross on which Christ died). But there is only ONE Divine Mercy Image — and it’s not a painting. It is Jesus, Himself, Mercy-made-flesh — Jesus, who came to reveal God as the Father who is “rich in mercy” — Jesus, who told us, “the Father and I are one (Jn 10:20) … He who has seen Me has seen the Father” (Jn 14:9)
Blessed Faustina did not see a vision of a painting. She saw Jesus, the visible “image of the invisible God” (Col. 1:15). And, whenever she looked at the man-made image painted to represent her vision, she saw beyond it to the real Image. Like the disciples at the Transfiguration, she saw “the glory of God” (Diary, 1789).
In the first chapter of the first book of the Bible, we are told that God created us in His image and likeness — but we keep trying to create Him in our image and likeness. We keep thinking that God must be like us, instead of realizing that we were created to be like Him. “God created man in His image; in the divine image He created him; male and female He created them” (Gen 1:27).
What does it mean to be created in the “divine image?” What does this really mean for you and for me in practical terms?
Let’s take a look at the passage in the Diary of Blessed Faustina (47-48) where she describes her initial vision of Jesus as The Divine Mercy. She starts out, “In the evening when I was in my cell, I saw the Lord Jesus clothed in a white garment.” The white garment is the sign of the priesthood. Christ is appearing to us as the ONE Great High Priest who offered a “once–for–all” sacrifice for our sins (cf Heb 9:26).
Next, she tells us that “one hand was raised in the gesture of blessing.” This, too, is a reference to the priesthood. In the Judaeo-Christian tradition, the first ministry of the priest is to bless. Indeed, in Jewish law, if a member of the priestly tribe of Levi refused to bless someone who asked him, he was excommunicated from the people.
To me, this is an awesome symbol. St. John tells us that “God is love.” And, in God, love is always a verb. It’s what He does. God is always loving us, always blessing us, and the one priesthood that today’s priests share is essentially a ministry of blessing. Everything a priest does is supposed to be a form of blessing: a here-and-now expression of the Father’s eternal blessing.
The next thing Faustina tells us is that Christ’s “other hand was touching the garment at the breast” — the gesture of invitation. This is Christ saying to us, “Come to My heart. … Come and receive My blessing.”
Why is He inviting us to come to His heart? Faustina’s next description makes it clear: “From beneath the garment, slightly drawn aside at the breast, there were emanating two large rays, one red, the other pale.” The pierced heart of Jesus, from which blood and water gushed out for us, is the source of mercy, the fountain of all grace and blessing.
The two hands tell us all we need to know about God’s love for us. He is always blessing us, always inviting us to come to His heart and receive His mercy.
Faustina then switches from what she sees to how it affects her; and, to me, this is the most important detail of the entire description: “In silence I kept my gaze fixed upon the Lord. My soul was struck with awe but also with great joy.” After this, Jesus speaks to her, but not immediately. Faustina relates, “After a while, Jesus said …” Jesus allows her to be in awe for a while, simply gazing at the Divine Mercy image.
Earlier, I mentioned the Transfiguration. In St. Mark’s account of this event, we see Peter, James, and John struck with a similar feeling of awe and joy as they gazed upon the Lord in His glory. Peter exclaimed, “Lord, how good it is for us to be here!” And St. Mark tells us, “He hardly knew what he was saying, for they were all overcome with awe” (Mk 9:2-10).
Do you want to know how to use the Divine Mercy image most effectively? Look at it. Gaze at it. Keep your gaze fixed upon the Lord until you are struck with awe and joy, contemplating the incredible goodness of God, who is always loving you, always blessing you, always inviting you into His heart to receive mercy.
St. Paul records the wonderful fruits of this contemplative gazing upon the Lord: “All of us, with unveiled faces, seeing the glory of the Lord as though reflected in a mirror, are being transformed into the same image from one degree of glory to another” (2 Cor. 3:18).
As we gaze upon the image, contemplating God’s great mercy, we come to see who God really is. Gradually, as though looking at a constantly changing mirror reflection, we behold the image of ourselves as we were created to be. Moment by moment, through the grace of God, we are transformed into the image and likeness of what we see. We become what we behold until we, ourselves, are living reflections of God, living images of Divine Mercy.
What does that mean? It means that we are each called to share in the one priesthood of Christ, to bless, to invite, to be a living fountain of mercy. We are each called to be a unique version of the same One Image.
There are opportunities everyday where we can growl, get anxious or angry, say unkind words, or simply respond to a negative situation with a positive blessing. If we curse the darkness, we become part of it. If we bless the darkness, we break through it with light. We can become the image in that sense.
These are not just pious thoughts or suggestions. The prayercards and paintings that represent The Divine Mercy are not just religious objects to carry in pocket or purse or pray before in our homes and churches. The Divine Mercy Image must become our “Tabor experience,” our reminder that God is Mercy, and that He expects us to become like Him.
Christ made this unmistakably clear to Blessed Faustina: “By means of this image, I shall grant many graces to souls. It is to be a reminder of the demands of My mercy, because even the strongest faith is of no avail without works. … I demand from you works of mercy” ( Diary, 742).
How did Blessed Faustina respond to this? She came to understand that God is calling each of us to be divinized, to be so completely transformed into Christ that we can say with St. Paul, “It is no longer I who live but Christ who lives within me” (Gal 2:20).
Her Diary is filled with explanations about this transformation process and with beautiful prayers, in which she asks God to transform her into Himself.
One of these seems a perfect prayer for each of us to offer every time we look upon the Divine Mercy Image:
“I want to be completely transformed into your mercy and to be your living reflection, O Lord. May the greatest of all divine attributes, that of your unfathomable mercy, pass through my heart and soul to my neighbor” (Diary, 163).
“Shalom”
Divine Mercy Sunday!
Readings: Acts 2:42-47; 1 Pt 5:3-9; Jn 20:19-31
‘Peace be with you,’ he said. Jn 20:19
Today’s Gospel tells the story of the first Easter Sunday and its octave day, which we celebrate today as Divine Mercy Sunday. The disciples are confused and frightened. Christ had represented their deepest hopes, but all that had changed in the garden, in the court of the high priest, in the praetorium of Pilate, and on that awful hill of Calvary where most of them had not even dared to show themselves. After the torture and execution of Christ, all had seemed lost. So the disciples had withdrawn into the upper room and locked the doors.
And suddenly He was there with them. (In our fear we can try to lock Him out, but He is always with us.) The first word He spoke was “shalom,” which means not just “peace,” but complete health and well-being in mind, body, and spirit.
Thomas wasn’t there and refused to believe unless he could see the holes in Christ’s hands and put his hand into the wound in His side. So, eight days later, Christ shows up again, offering Thomas the proof he needs. What a wonderful testimony to how far God is willing to go to reveal Himself to each of us, personally, when we long to see Him!
Here we are, some 2000 years later. So many plans that haven’t worked out. So many dashed expectations. In our fear, how many rooms have we fled into to hide? How many locked doors are there in our minds and hearts? How many times have we been afraid to trust, unwilling to believe, unable to receive?
Every day, but especially today, when we remember and celebrate His mercy, Christ stands before us (even in the deepest locked rooms of our being), offers us His “shalom,” and invites us to receive His Spirit. “One thing alone is necessary: that the sinner set ajar the door of his heart … to let in a ray of God’s merciful grace” (Diary, 1507).
Lord, help me to let go of all fear today and trust You to break through all the locked doors, heal all the wounds, and breathe Your “shalom” into my heart.
