I close my eyes—and I see eyes… Human eyes that have witnessed much suffering, pain, death, and horror. These are the eyes of soldiers, tankmen, scouts, mortar crews, medics… Eyes of people who looked directly into the face of death and overcame their fear. Eyes of people who in the last year have radically reassessed their entire lives and hopes, and who need unearthly hope—people inclined to seek answers, who listen attentively to you and catch every word of the Gospel, who listen to songs with lumps in their throats.
Eyes full of tears and questions, in them a longing for clarity and a plea for prayer—prayer for God's protection, salvation, support, return, and victory. Eyes that rejoice in children's drawings, in encouragement, in your embrace and in words of hope heard. And I see in my own eyes their genuine smiles… Their joy that they have not been forgotten, that people pray for them and care for them. And genuine, courageous, and strong embraces. It is hard to forget their tears and words of gratitude for God's touch upon their souls. "You know, we don't have Easter joy here, but today you brought us real celebration and joy…"—these words, spoken at parting through tears by a woman medic in a stabilization center, were reward for all the kilometers traveled.
We live in a special time and period when Jesus walks not only among His Church in the familiar places of worship we know, but also on the front lines, in hospitals, with the relatives of the fallen, and among all who need His love, Gospel, and hope. The Church must build not a "Mecca" in its locality, but go to the ends of the earth where there is pain, suffering, hopelessness, and death, to bring the Message of Heaven and the Living Christ to the hearts of the exhausted. Jesus is especially needed by those who daily look death and eternity in the face, so the saints must be beside them.
