Come, Lord Jesus.
This is a cry to which we return over and over again during Advent—in the readings we hear at Mass, in the hymns we sing, and in our own personal prayer—everything calls us to open ourselves to the coming of the Lord and to cry out, Come, Lord Jesus.
So many times in the Gospels, it is Jesus who says to us, Come. In the Gospel of Matthew, he calls the disciples, “Come after me, and I will make you fishers of men” (Mt 4:19). Later, he turns to the crowds with the comforting invitation, “Come to me, all you who labor and are burdened” (Mt 11:28). He opens the invitation to children when he says, “Let the little children come to me” (Mt 19:14), and he calls the rich young man as well: “Go, sell what you have, and give to [the] poor and you will have treasure in heaven; then come, follow me” (Mk 10:21).
We will find Jesus’ invitation to come to him many other times in the Gospels. The phrase “Come, Lord Jesus,” instead, comes from the book of Revelation:
“The Spirit and the bride say, ‘Come.’ Let the hearer say, ‘Come.’ Let the one who thirsts come forward, and the one who wants it receive the gift of life-giving water….. The one who gives this testimony says, ‘Yes, I am coming soon.’ Amen! Come, Lord Jesus!”
(Rev 22:17-20)
Here we can see that the phrase “Come, Lord Jesus,” is spoken in response to what Jesus the Bridegroom proclaims: “Yes, I am coming soon.” Jesus promises to come, and he promises to come soon, and it is only and always in response to his promise that we say, “Come, Lord Jesus.”
When we say, “Come, Lord Jesus,” it is as if we were saying, “Amen, so be it, yes,” to the coming of Jesus into our lives.
We are saying “yes” to how Jesus wants to come into our lives.
We are saying “yes” to when Jesus wants to come into our lives.
We are saying “yes” to where Jesus wants to come into our lives.
If we are honest with ourselves, it may be that we do not want Jesus to come into certain areas of our lives or certain corners of our hearts. It may be that there are some places in us that we feel are not ready for Jesus’ coming, some parts of us that we feel are fine as they are, or that we are afraid to change.
This is OK. Jesus will come even into our unreadiness, into our unwillingness, into our fear. Jesus will come.
There may be other areas of our lives or of our hearts where we long for Jesus to come—places in us where we need love, parts of our lives where we need direction or guidance, areas of our hearts that need compassion and tenderness.
Jesus will come here, too. Jesus will come where we need love, where we need guidance, where we need tenderness, where we need him. Jesus will come.
There may also be areas that we struggle to hand over to Jesus’ coming. Sometimes vocational discernment can be one of these areas. Discernment requires us to walk a little bit in the dark, waiting for Jesus to shine the light on our next step. Meanwhile, most of us would much rather train a spotlight on the path so we can figure out exactly where we’re going!
If you are in a time of vocational discernment, then you are invited by Jesus in a particular way to welcome his coming precisely into the space of your discernment. Imagine your discernment as a path that you are walking. Where is Jesus? Perhaps walking behind you, perhaps walking toward you, but always walking with you, always coming to you. Welcome him there.
We have been invited by Jesus to come to him: Come to me, all of you. We are invited by Jesus to open ourselves and receive him because he is coming to us: Behold, I am coming soon. Jesus wants his coming to penetrate every part of our lives and every corner of our hearts. We have no idea how deeply he desires to come to us, remain with us, and love us.
I believe, too, that ultimately we want Jesus’ coming to seep into every corner of our hearts and every fiber of our being. This is a grace to ask for this Advent—that the coming of Jesus that happened in Bethlehem, as well as his Second Coming that will happen at the end of time, would unfold in our lives today, in each moment, here and now. This is what we pray for when we say, “Come, Lord Jesus.”
In the prayer that follows, make the words your own. Insert your own name, your own situation, your own circumstances. Jesus has deeply desired to come to you where you are; allow these words to open your heart, your life, and your discernment to him.
Prayer: Come, Lord Jesus, Come
Come, Lord Jesus.
Jesus, our Divine Master—our Shepherd, our Healer, our Friend, our Lover—you call me to come to you in so many ways. Sometimes you whisper, sometimes you shout, at times you are unmistakably clear, at other times you are almost imperceptibly subtle. But you are continually speaking your “Come to me” into my life. I want to open every part of my life and my heart to your call.
Come, Lord Jesus, come!
Jesus, my spirit and my heart say, “Come.” My hopes and my dreams say to you, “Come.” My desires and expectations say, “Come.” My joys, the things that make me smile, my delights, say, “Come.” But my weakness and my sinfulness, too, say, “Come.” My fear and my unreadiness say, “Come.” My grief, my pain, my wounds all say, “Come.” Jesus, every part of me cries out to you…“Come.”
Come, Lord Jesus, come!
Come, Lord Jesus, because I have felt you stirring in my own heart. Come, Lord Jesus, because there is something in me that wants to give myself to you. Come, Lord Jesus, and show me where to go, how to live, how to love. Come, Lord Jesus, and teach me how to be loved by you. Teach me to receive your love.
Come, Lord Jesus, come!
Jesus, come and love me. Jesus, come and heal me. Jesus, come and free me. Come where I need You…and where I don’t even know that I need You.
Come, Lord Jesus, come!
Amen.
