Suppose you’re out running an errand and you pass a friend’s house. You hadn’t planned to see him, but you have some time to spare, and there’s a light on at his place. Do you stop by for a visit?

It’s a tough call. You would have to consider several factors, including whether he is the type of person who would mind an unexpected guest, whether you have enough time to make stopping worthwhile, and finally, what kind of relationship you have with him—specifically, whether the two of you will likely find something to talk about if you do drop in.

For any worldly friend, you will have to answer these questions for yourself. However, we also have a divine friend whose many houses we pass frequently. The Lord Jesus is truly present in the tabernacle of every Catholic church. When it comes to visiting him, these questions are easy to answer.

Is he the type of person who would mind an unexpected guest? The Catechism gives two reasons why consecrated hosts are reserved in the tabernacle: first, so that Holy Communion can be brought to the sick and the dying; and second, precisely to allow for silent adoration of the Eucharist (cf. CCC 1379). Jesus is really there—and he is there for you. He is there so that you can spend time in his Presence. He is never too busy. He never has better plans. He is all yours.

Do you have enough time to make the visit worthwhile? Saint Augustine, writing to a Roman widow about prayer, describes Egyptian monks whose prayers are “very short and hurled like swift javelins.” While many Catholics laudably commit to spending an hour before the Blessed Sacrament every day, stopping in a church even for just a few minutes can bring us closer to God and deepen our awareness of his nearness.

What kind of friend is this? Will you have something to talk about with him? Saint Dominic famously spent long nights in the chapel praying. After his death, witnesses testified that once he thought everyone else had gone to bed, the saint often spoke to God aloud and regularly paused in silence as if listening to a reply. When we visit a church, we are with our truest friend, and friends delight in one another’s company, both in conversation and in silence. Prayer doesn’t have to be complicated; it is enough to tell God what’s on our minds or simply that we love him.

Next time you pass a church, then, try the door. When you do, keep in mind that no visit to Jesus is ever truly unannounced. Whenever we come to God, it is because he has drawn us to himself (cf. John 6:44). We’ve been thinking of ourselves all along as the visitors, but perhaps it makes more sense to think of ourselves as the ones visited. After all, time before the tabernacle always harkens back and gestures forward to the Mass—that most mysterious banquet in which God visits his people (cf. Luke 7:16). 

“Behold,” he says to each of us, “I stand at the door and knock. If anyone hears my voice and opens the door, I will enter his house and dine with him, and he with me” (Rev 3:20).

I want to encourage everyone to visit—if possible, every day—especially amid life’s difficulties, the Blessed Sacrament of the infinite love of Christ and His mercy, preserved in our churches, and often abandoned, to speak filially with Him, to listen to Him in silence, and to peacefully entrust yourself to Him. (Pope Francis)

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Image: Christoffer Wilhelm Eckersberg, A Section of the Via Sacra, Rome (The Church of Saints Cosmas and Damian)