WHEN Jesus had gone up from them, Mary and the apostles
met and prayed. Their master, and her Son, was still the leader in
their praying; they used his words, they shared his mind, they prayed with
him as though they said the words after him. He was now, indeed,
somewhat further from them than he used to be; further, even, than he had
been from Peter, James and John in Gethsemane. There they had overheard
his prayer, though he knelt beyond them up the hill. Now he was further
still ahead, they could not see or hear him. But the further he was
from them, the nearer he was to the heart of God; further from those who
prayed, but nearer to the Mercy to whom all prayer ascends. Not nearer
simply, it was not a matter of degree. He was there, had reached
the goal, was one with the fountain from which all things always come.
In Jesus they were there too, for he was one of them. They turned
their faces upwards and stretched up their hands, and what he inspired
them in his name to ask was asked by God from God.