Lucy, the Exposed

Good Friday of the Lord’s Passion

Isaiah 52:13-53:12

Psalm 31

John 18:1-19:42

I met a mystic once.  

The nurse called for the chaplain to visit with Lucy.  As I walked down the corridor, and paused at the almost closed door to Lucy’s hospital room, I overheard the anxious nurse:  ‘Now Lucy, let’s put that cover back over you…the chaplain is coming.’

Lucy was at least ninety with a head of silken snow-white wavy hair. And skin like the surface of my favorite pearls.  She was very weak but mightily intentional.  First she wanted me to read to her from scripture.  I remember it clearly.  I pulled from my pocket the trusty little green ‘Pastoral Care of the Sick’ book and opened it to John 14:2, My Father’s house has many rooms; if that were not so, would I have told you that I am going there to prepare a place for you?   I went on reading until she asked me to open a few of the greeting cards that had just arrived.  I opened them and read them to her…but not just the new ones.  There was a stack of others from relatives and from neighbors and friends.  Each one sent a lovely greeting, a ‘new testament’ verse to this woman Lucy.  She told me a story about each sender; the one who made the best pecan pie, the neighbor that has done her mowing since the day her husband died fifteen years prior, the niece that is both smart and kind and now in medical school.

All the while Lucy’s right fist never let go of the sheet that so concerned her nurse. She grabbed it like my daughter used to grasp her ‘blankie’ while she sucked her thumb.  As she grabbed she worked the fabric through her fist. And eventually she managed to pull the sheet off completely.  And there she was, this beautiful woman, clearly beloved by many, a woman of the deepest faith, near death, and much to the discomfort of her nurse…naked…but for her adult diaper.

At that moment I caught her staring off to the right…over her shoulder.  “Lucy, what is it?  What has grabbed your attention?"

Lucy was staring at the crucifix on the wall, her body a mirror of His.  She turned to me, and with a forcefulness not residing in her weakened body, she proclaimed with utter freedom, ‘I came into this world exposed and I will leave it exposed…just like him.’

What kind of life leads a person to that proclamation?

Was there a consistency about the cruciform pattern of her life?

What does cruciform look like…is it that mixture of great joy and great sacrifice that is the lifeblood of relationships that bring life to life?

Was cruciform her habit…so a part of her it held no sacred power to frighten but only power to draw out love?

May the cross be our comfort in trouble,

Our refuge in the face of danger,

Our safeguard on life’s journey,

Until you welcome us to our heavenly home.

-From the Book of Blessings

St. Lucy, the Exposed, pray for us.