The Cross, a refuge
Vatican II's Constitution on the Church in the Modern World begins with this sentence: The joys and the hopes, the griefs and the anxieties of the men and women of this age, especially those who are poor or in any way afflicted, these are the joys and hopes, the griefs and anxieties of the followers of Christ.
The piece above reflects something that I have felt strongly since coming back from Rome and starting quarantining at home in Boston; the Cross as a refuge. Being in Rome, arguably the center of contemporary Catholicism, I began truly came in contact with Christ, mostly because of there being a chapel or church on every corner, it’s hard to avoid Him physically. Yet, it has actually been here, in Boston, at home, isolated, where I have truly come in contact with Christ.
During quarantine, I have connected with people I wouldn’t have talked to otherwise, including, I must admit, people from the BRCC and yes, Jesus was quite possibly in that list of people. But isolation has helped me look up, and realize that the ceiling above me is the Cross, a refuge. In other words, the Cross, typically a symbol of suffering, has helped me realize that he is with me constantly, motivating me in my work, propelling my actions to help others and to hear me out.
I hope that the piece makes people reflect that with all the darkness there seems to be outside, the Cross, seemingly a symbol of pessimism, actually sheds quite a bit of light.
Pablo Herraiz García de Guadiana is a senior concentrating in Architecture and sent us this post from Brookline, Massachusetts.