As I sit here in my room, snow is falling on Philadelphia. Our little corner of the city is silent for once, all the sounds of traffic and sirens and voices muted by the soft white blanket settling around us.

I am conscious this morning of so many gifts. The gifts of quiet, stillness, peace. The gifts of community, friendship, love.

Most of all, there is the gift of Christ's presence, which guides and comforts me even in the darkest of times.

Last night, the first Friday of the month, I took the subway down to Center City, to the basement church of St. John the Evangelist, where a group of young adults gathers each month to offer Devotions to the Sacred Heart of Jesus. Every time I step down into that church from the busy streets of Philadelphia and feel myself enveloped in the warm embrace of incense, candlelight, and the rhythm of Latin hymns, my heart leaps with joy to have come upon such an oasis of peace and reverence in the midst of all the clamor of city life.

As I prayed last night, my heart was heavy with the pain of the women and children I had worked with all week long in the shelter. I mourned their past and present traumas, feeling myself utterly helpless to do anything at all to alleviate their suffering and bring justice into their lives. Yet the gift of Christ's presence works marvelous deeds. As we stood for the final hymn, I felt my heart strengthened and consoled by the words we sung - Infinite thy vast domain, everlasting is thy reign.

The absurdity of those words in a world of violence and hatred and grave injustice, the absurdity of God's love, the absurdity of Christ's presence in the Eucharist - all struck me with a paradoxical hope. I was reminded that our call as disciples of Christ is to dedicate our lives to that absurd love, even - and most especially - when it seems most impossible. And I was also reminded, by the love and fellowship that filled the small group of us gathered there, that we do not confront that task alone - we are strengthened by our sisters and brothers in faith, and by all women and men of good will.