The One Who Chose to Stay

As Corpus Christi approaches, I find myself returning to a thought that has quietly stayed with me for years.

Sometimes I wonder how You did it.

You saw people for who they really were. Not the version they showed to the world. Not the version they wanted others to believe. You saw their hearts. You knew Judas would betray You. You knew Peter would deny You. You knew many of those who welcomed You into Jerusalem would disappear when the cross appeared. Nothing was hidden from You.

Yet You loved them anyway.

I cannot get over that.

If I am honest, I struggle to do the same. I find it difficult to love people when they hurt me. I find it difficult to love people when they disappoint me. Sometimes I struggle to love people when I know they do not have the best intentions. Yet You looked into the hearts of those around You, saw every weakness, every failure, every hidden motive, and still chose love.

When I think about that, I realise that nothing is hidden from You today either.

You see my heart just as clearly. You see my weaknesses, my pride, my fears, and the many times I fall short. You know every thought I have carried, every regret I have tried to forget, and every burden I have struggled to surrender.

Yet You remain.

That is what moves me every Corpus Christi.

You did not simply come into the world, save us, and leave. You chose to stay close to us in the Eucharist.

The more I think about it, the more extraordinary it seems. The God who knows every human heart allows Himself to be received, ignored, forgotten, doubted, and taken for granted.

And still He stays.

There are moments when I walk into a church, glance at the tabernacle, and carry on with whatever is on my mind. Then there are moments when it suddenly strikes me.

You are here.

The same Jesus who walked the roads of Galilee. The same Jesus who sat with sinners, touched lepers, comforted the broken, and carried the cross. The same Jesus who conquered death and rose again.

You are here.

And somehow, despite knowing me completely, despite seeing every reason why You should walk away, You still desire to be close to me.

I think that is what touches me most. Not that I have found You, but that You have never stopped waiting for me.

As I think about this year’s Corpus Christi procession, I realise that I have never really looked at it this way before.

For many years, I followed the procession because it was simply what we did on Corpus Christi. We sang hymns, prayed together, walked through the streets, and returned to church. It was beautiful, but if I am honest, I never gave much thought to what it was saying.

This year feels different.

This year, I find myself asking what it really means to walk behind You.

I want to remember that I am not following a distant God. I am following a God who chose to stay close to His people.

As I walk behind You, I want to remember that Your love was never meant to remain within church walls. You did not come only for those already sitting in the pews. You came for every person who is carrying a burden, searching for hope, struggling to believe, or wondering if anyone sees them.

Perhaps that is what I want the procession to remind me of.

That You continue to walk among Your people.

That You remain present in the ordinary places where life happens.

That You are still seeking those who have drifted away.

And that wherever Your people go, Your love is meant to go with them.

Maybe for the first time, I will not simply see the procession as a tradition.

I will see it as a reminder that the God who chose to stay is still moving towards His people.

Dear Jesus, thank You for staying.

Thank You for loving people You knew would fail You. Thank You for loving me even though You know me completely. Thank You for remaining close when I have drifted away and for waiting patiently when I have been distracted by everything else.

This Corpus Christi, help me never to take Your presence for granted. Help me to see the Eucharist with fresh eyes and a grateful heart. And when I walk behind You in procession, remind me once again that You are not a distant God. You are a God who comes looking for His people, a God who walks with them, and a God who never stops loving them.

I do not think I will ever fully understand how You did it.

How You saw every human heart and still chose to love.

How You knew every failure and still chose to stay.

But I am grateful that You did.

Amen. (BV)