A well-known sculptor had a burning ambition to create the greatest statue of Jesus Christ ever made. He began in his oceanside studio by shaping a clay model of a triumphant, regal figure. The head was thrown back and the arms were upraised in a gesture of great majesty. It was his conception of how Christ would look: strong and dominant.

“This will be my masterpiece,” he said, on the day the clay model was completed.

During the night, however, a heavy fog rolled into the area and sea spray seeped through a partially opened window. The moisture affected the shape of the clay so that when the artist returned to the studio in the morning, he was shocked at what he found.

Droplets of moisture had formed on the model, creating an illusion of bleeding. The head had drooped. The facial expression had been transformed from one of severity to one of compassion. And the arms had dropped into a posture of welcome. It had become a wounded Christ-figure.

The artist stared at the figure, agonizing over the time wasted and the need to begin all over again. Then, inspiration came over him to change his mood. He began to see that this image of Christ was, by far, the truer one. So, he carved these words in the base of the newly shaped figure: Come unto Me.

Inspired by a favorite poem, I offer the following:

·      Come unto me, all who live with the dread of war and the fear of violence.

·      Come unto me, all who wonder where cooperation and civility are to be found in our nation.

·      Come unto me, all who cry for the fate of our planet and the abuse of its resources.

·      Come unto me, all who face serious health issues, either your own or that of a loved one.

·      Come unto me, all who have lost a loved one and experience painful loneliness and grief.

·      Come unto me, all who hunger for food, for normalcy, for love and compassion.

·      Come unto me, all who experience judgment, harassment, or persecution, simply for being different.

·      Come unto me, all who dream of a better life and a kinder world.

·      Come unto me, all who, while experiencing crucifixion, still dare to trust that resurrection and newness of life are not locked up in a tomb.

Come unto me.

The poem that has always inspired me, The New Colossus by Emma Lazarus, inspired by the Statue of Liberty:

Not like the brazen giant of Greek fame,
With conquering limbs astride from land to land;
Here at our sea-washed, sunset gates shall stand

A mighty woman with a torch, whose flame
Is the imprisoned lightning, and her name
Mother of Exiles. From her beacon-hand
Glows world-wide welcome; her mild eyes command
The air-bridged harbor that twin cities frame.
 
"Keep, ancient lands, your storied pomp!" cries she
With silent lips. "Give me your tired, your poor,
Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,
The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.
 Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me,
 I lift my lamp beside the golden door!"