Walking Daily with Jesus A Mission Born from a Wound
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?????? ?????????? ???????? / ?????? ???????????????? ???????????? ???? ?????????? — Monday, October 13, 2025
Read the following daily — and your life will never be the same.
No psychologist, no “modern day healer,” no self-help guru, and no bottle can do for your soul what walking daily with Jesus through the Scriptures will do.
This is not therapy — it’s truth.
These are the same readings proclaimed at every Catholic altar around the world today —
Imagine this: Every day, over ??????,?????? times around the world — and more than ?????? ?????????????? times each year — Jesus speaks at the altar. Multiply that by 2000 years.
It’s because of this unbroken sacrifice that the world still knows His Name.
Here, the command still resounds:
“Do this in memory of Me.”
This is today’s Gospel. And it’s for you and me.
THE CRUCIFIX IS THE SIGN THAT ENDS ALL SIGNS
A Call to Return the Crucified Christ to the Center of the Altar and the Heart of our Faith, our homes.
When I first saw a Risen Lord suspended above the altar, my heart sank.
Not because I doubted the Resurrection, but because I knew something sacred had been replaced.
The altar is not a stage; it is Calvary made present.
And above Calvary stands not the triumphant figure of Easter morning, but the Crucified Lord still offering Himself once for all, for the life of the world.
The Risen Christ belongs in glory — in our hearts, in our hope, in the tabernacle of heaven.
But the Crucified Christ belongs above the altar, for the altar is the place of sacrifice — the moment where Heaven touches earth through the blood of the Lamb.
Many Catholics today look only to the Resurrection. Thanks be too God that many still get it as well.
Some skip the suffering part. Some do it unknowingly; others deliberately.
But when suffering comes — as it always does — they don’t know what to do with it.
They flee from it, instead of finding Christ within it.
They seek joy without the Cross — forgetting that true joy is born only from it.
REFLECTION — The Crucifix Is the Sign
For two thousand years, the Church has proclaimed this one, shocking truth:
“We proclaim Christ crucified, a stumbling block to Jews and foolishness to Gentiles,
but to those who are called, Christ the power of God and the wisdom of God.” — 1 Cor 1:23-24
The Cross is not a stage Jesus used to reach the Resurrection; it is the mystery of love itself.
Saint Francis of Assisi called the wounds of Christ “the doorways of divine love.”
Saint Thomas Aquinas wrote that “the Cross is the cause of all grace.”
Saint John Paul II declared, “The answer to the mystery of suffering is not a theory, but a Person.”
And that Person still hangs on the wood He sanctified.
When you stand before a Crucifix — not an empty cross, not a shining abstraction, but the bruised and bleeding Christ — you stand before the intersection of eternity and time.
The wood is our sin.
The body is our salvation.
The gaze is mercy itself.
The so-called “Risen Lord Crucifix” carries an unintended paradox: it tries to blend victory with sacrifice, but it softens the scandal of the Cross.
The Crucifix, by contrast, leaves no escape. It forces us to see what love costs.
Love did not leap off the Cross; Love remained.
Love did not avoid pain; Love transformed it.
And Love still calls each of us to enter that transformation.
The Church does not offer comfort; she offers conversion — and through conversion, redemption.
HOMILY — The Crucifix: The Sign That Ends All Signs
Jesus called His Cross “the Sign of Jonah” — the descent into death and the rising into life.
In a world addicted to spectacle, proof, and positivity, the Crucifix stands silent yet speaks louder than any sermon.
It is the sign God gave once and for all.
Jonah’s three days in the deep prefigured Christ’s three days in the tomb.
Jonah emerged to preach repentance; Christ rose to offer redemption.
But notice — both began in darkness.
The Crucifix answers every cry for meaning.
It reveals that love is not found in comfort but in sacrifice — not in escaping pain but in redeeming it.
It is not a symbol of defeat but the logic of divine love:
“God so loved the world that He gave His only Son.”
Saint Paul, in the opening of Romans, said he was
“set apart for the Gospel of God.”
So are we.
Set apart not to avoid suffering, but to transform it.
Set apart to live the sign of the Cross before a world that worships success.
When the world demands proof, we show them the Crucifix.
When hearts grow hard, we show them mercy born from it.
When our own faith falters, we kneel before the Crucified and remember:
this is the sign that ends all signs.
A CHALLENGE FOR THE HEART
Stand before a Crucifix — really look. Let the silence of His wounds speak.
Ask: “Lord, what part of my life must die so that love may live?”
Whisper: “Jesus, You are enough. Your Cross is enough.”
Stay there until your heart begins to burn again.
WHAT THIS MEANS FOR US
The Cross without the Resurrection would be tragedy.
The Resurrection without the Cross would be illusion.
Together they form the heartbeat of our faith: suffering transfigured into joy.
The empty cross proclaims victory — but only the Crucifix tells us how that victory was won.
Remove the body from the cross and we risk removing the body from the faith.
Take away the wounds, and we take away compassion.
If the Crucified Christ disappears from our altars, we will forget what love truly costs.
The saints learned to suffer well because they learned at the feet of the Crucified.
Without the Cross, suffering feels meaningless; with it, suffering becomes redemptive.
This is the wisdom the world cannot see — and the comfort it cannot counterfeit.
A PERSONAL INVITATION
Let us return the Crucified Christ to the center of every altar and to the center of every soul.
Let us awaken a sleeping Church that has grown too comfortable with polished symbols and painless faith.
Let us teach a generation unaccustomed to suffering that it is not a curse but a calling — the very meeting place of God and man.
Look again upon the Crucifix until your soul trembles.
Look until you see not death but love that refuses to die.
And when you rise from that gaze, carry the Cross into the world that has forgotten it.
Because in the end, only one sign was ever given —
and it still hangs before us:
Arms open, heart pierced, silence speaking louder than every word:
“This is how much I love you.”
utahmission.com/the-mass
Richard W. Horrell – Utah Mission
I'm a Catholic convert with a heart for the forgotten and the searching—especially in Utah. Baptized in 1999, I spent over 14 years helping with the RCIA in Logan, Utah, after a life-changing encounter with Christ in a quiet, candlelit church. I know firsthand the silent suffering many endure, especially in areas where the true Gospel remains hidden beneath cultural or religious expectations.
Through www.UtahMission.com, I aim to reach those wrestling with doubt, despair, and identity—especially former or questioning Latter-day Saints—by offering love, truth, and the fullness of Christ’s mercy through the Catholic Church. This mission is not about condemnation. It’s about compassion, clarity, and invitation.
God didn’t leave us alone. He gave us the Cross, the Church, and the sacraments—especially for the broken. That’s what I live to share.
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=61577683963351
