Could It Be Jesus? A Hidden Reminder in Everyday Life

Yesterday at Mass, the priest shared a story that’s been sitting with me ever since. Maybe you’ve heard it before. It’s about a group of ageing monks who had grown impatient and irritable with each other. The peace in their monastery had worn thin. Small things started to bother them. Who left the dishes? Who forgot the prayers? Who made too much noise? Day by day, these little things became a burden.

Wanting to restore harmony, the abbot went up the mountain to visit a wise hermit. He asked for advice. The hermit didn’t offer any rules or strategies. He simply said, “Jesus is living among you, but He’s in disguise. I cannot tell you who it is.”

The abbot returned and shared the message. The monks were puzzled at first. But then something changed. What if Brother Thomas, who mumbled and forgot things, was actually Jesus? What if Jesus was hidden behind Brother Matthew’s short temper? What if Christ had chosen Brother Andrew’s silence as His hiding place?

The monks began to treat each other with more care. They listened better. They forgave faster. They spoke more gently. Slowly, the life of the monastery changed. Not because of a miracle, but because of how they chose to see one another.

Most of us don’t live in monasteries. But many of us share space with others. We live in families, work in teams, serve in parishes. And sometimes, it’s not easy. People frustrate us. Some talk too much. Others stay quiet when we need help. Some never pull their weight. Others want control over everything. We get tired, we lose patience, and over time, we stop seeing the person. We just see the problem.

But what if the person we’re trying to avoid is where Jesus has chosen to dwell today? What if He’s right there, quietly waiting behind the face that annoys us most?

Jesus never said love would be easy. He didn’t tell us to love the people who are kind, polite, or easy to be with. He said, “Love one another as I have loved you.” And He loved us at our worst.

This doesn’t mean we ignore serious issues or put up with harmful behaviour. But in daily life, in the small, frustrating, ordinary moments, there is an invitation. To pause. To look again. To ask ourselves, what if this person is carrying something I don’t see? What if Jesus is hidden here?

It won’t make everyone easier to deal with. But it might soften something in us.

We might stop reacting and start responding. We might offer kindness, not because it is deserved, but because we want to honour Christ in the other.

The truth is, we don’t know who is carrying Jesus today. It could be the colleague who interrupts you. It could be the friend who never says thank you. It could be the person at church who always disagrees with your ideas. It could be someone you’ve written off as difficult or self-centred.

And sometimes, it might be you.

Mother Teresa was once asked how she could spend her life serving the sick and the dying. She answered, “Each one of them is Jesus in disguise.” And at times, when faced with the smell or the wounds or the pain, she would smile and say, “Oh Jesus, how cleverly you disguise yourself!”

So here’s a small challenge. The next time someone tests your patience, try asking in your heart, “Could it be Jesus?”

You might not feel anything special. You might still feel annoyed or tired. But that simple question might change how you speak, or how you choose to treat them. It might give you just enough grace to hold your tongue, offer a smile, or forgive without a grudge.

You never know. Grace often slips in through ordinary moments. It meets us in the kitchen, the meeting room, the church car park. It shows up not with fanfare, but in small, quiet invitations to love.

Even in a tired monk. Even in your family group chat. Even in the parish café after Mass.

Even in us.

Especially in us. (BV)