I walked past dozens of doors every day, sometimes with fearful, ghost-storyish wonder, during my month in silence. I was journeying through the Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius of Loyola, during which I resided in the very beautiful, historic White House Retreat Center run by Ignatius’ spiritual sons, the Jesuits.
I have to be honest, at times it was spooky, especially at night, knowing I was the only human (or at best one of three during certain weeks) dwelling therein. I’d tiptoe through the corridors, past doors I’d never open to guest rooms, offices and spiritual direction rooms, through the door into the grand library and around the corner through the chapel door.
The sanctuary lamp was always ready to greet me in glowing fashion as I gazed upon the ‘little gold house’ where Jesus dwells in the Blessed Sacrament. There would be both peace and anxious anticipation as I sat there, my eyes fixed on the door that led into a most sacred space, housing the silent yet active King of Kings. Little did I know how that very same King was slowly approaching the doors of my heart.
During the same 30 days, I rediscovered T.S. Eliot’s Four Quartets. To say I had some spare time to read would certainly be accurate. I was captivated in a new way by the lyricism, verse, and images set forth in Eliot’s great masterpiece. The themes of time and eternity, sin and grace, creation and desecration captivated my increasingly contemplative heart.
I recently went back to this poem and to my delight discovered something I hadn’t noticed before. In the very first stanza, Eliot writes:
What might have been and what has been
Point to one end, which is always present.
Footfalls echo in the memory
Down the passage which we did not take
Towards the door we never opened
Into the rose-garden.
The very last stanza, after proclaiming Love (the God who is Love) and his calling, begins:
We shall not cease from exploration
And the end of all our exploring
Will be to arrive where we started
And know the place for the first time.
Through the unknown, remembered gate
When the last of earth left to discover
Is that which was the beginning…
Eliot’s contemplative journey through this poem has so much to do with a deep longing to connect with God. He becomes aware that to walk through the garden gate—the door into the realm of God—requires letting go and openness to a Mystery unknown. While I am sure I will never plumb the depths of it, the last line, “And the fire and the rose are one,” has haunted my heart with indescribable desire since I first read it.
That desire is often stoked when I walk through the doors of a Catholic Church. In the silence, I can still gaze upon a ‘little gold house’ where the King of Kings still dwells, and speak to him cor a cor.
There have been a handful of times when I perceived within the depths of my being the feeling of my heart truly being on fire. I understood in a humble way how much the Lord desires my soul—”the rose”—to be in full bloom, drawing others to him.
He desires the same intimacy with you.
It is during the Mass when I long most deeply for the doors of my heart to be fully open to God—and I pray the same for you. As the priest or deacon breaks open the Word of God, our minds are opened to a deeper knowledge of the things of God. This is like oil upon the hinges of the doors to our hearts. I must allow my heart to be immersed in the Word to grow in relationship with Christ, the Church, and the whole communion of saints. This is why the first part of the Mass is the Liturgy of the Word. It prepares us to encounter our Lord in the breaking of the bread.
Throughout the Liturgy of the Eucharist, we are invited to open more fully the doors of our heart, to the very point of entering into holy communion with the King of Kings. We literally receive Christ into the home of our hearts when we receive the Blessed Sacrament, allowing him to cross the sacred threshold of our inmost being.
Of the many tremendous gifts I’ve received throughout my life, journeying through the Spiritual Exercises was one of the most profound. Yet, all the graces of that precious time of solitude and prayer are not exclusively available to those who are prepared and able to set aside 30 days of their lives for a long retreat. Those graces, and so many more, are always available to us, especially when we linger at the threshold between time and eternity as we participate in the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass.
Download Looking for Jesus, a Companion Children's Guide (available in English and Spanish), and coloring page (English | Spanish) created by Katie Bogner.
Sr. Alicia Torres is a member of the Franciscans of the Eucharist of Chicago. In addition to participating in the apostolic works of her religious community, she has been serving the National Eucharistic Revival since 2021.
Katherine Bogner is a Catholic school teacher from Central Illinois who is passionate about equipping parents, catechists, and teachers to share the beauty and truth of Christ and his Church with children. You can access her educational resources at her website. https://www.looktohimandberadiant.com/
