53) Lead me home
I hung a picture on the wall of my office. I cried when I first saw it. It’s by Ramone Romero. I discovered the artist through his haunting work drawing attention to the unconscionable tragedies in Gaza. His artwork is on the cover of “Being Christian after the Desolation of Gaza” – a book that I think ought to be read out in churches across the world. For sure, it’s the question the church ought to be asking of itself right now: how can we dare to carry the name Christian and remain silent in the face of such suffering? How indeed.
The picture on my wall is one of Ramone’s older paintings, entitled “Lead me home.” Every visitor to my office has stopped to study it, and I have witnessed how moved they are by it. The painting shows someone presumably in a hospital bed being comforted by Jesus, whose hand is on their cheek. The Good Shepherd Himself, with eyes shining bright, and His own hands scarred with heart-shaped holes, attending to the patient.
Over the years, as a chaplain, I’ve seen so many carers and nurses and doctors and family comforting folks in times of difficulty or at the end of life. And always with the same attention and compassion and tenderness that I see in this painting. Love and care revealed in every brushstroke.
“How precious is Your lovingkindness, O God! That the children of men take refuge in the shadow of Your wings.”
I’m often moved by poetry, or a song lyric, or when someone gives their testimony. I am moved by the holy ground that opens up between us when we let our guards down, and when we begin to share our stories and see each other for who we really are. I am moved every time I spot an orchid in the Australian bush. I am moved by letters from friends and family back home. And, I am profoundly moved by this painting.
Last Friday evening, I shut down my computer, packed my bag, and made ready to go home and start the weekend. And then, I stood in front of the painting, looking again at the expression on Jesus’ face, His hand on the patient’s cheek, and I was moved to tears just like the very first time that I saw it. I don’t know why the tears keep coming...
“All that I want is one who knows me
A kind hand on my face when I weep”
So go the words of the country song. So goes the longing cry of my own heart. And so goes the expression on Jesus’ face, revealing His tender heart. And so goes His hand to comfort the man’s cheek.
I think of Jesus’ words:
“I am the good shepherd, and I know My own, and My own know Me… My sheep listen to My voice, and I know them, and they follow Me; and I give them eternal life, and they will never perish; and no one will snatch them out of My hand.”
I am reminded tonight of the story Brennan Manning tells about an empty chair, and of how a priest is invited to pray for a man who is nearing the end of life. The empty chair is beside the man’s bed. The man explains that in faith he sees Jesus on that chair and prays to Him for a couple of hours every day. When the man dies soon after, his daughter calls the priest to let him know. “Did he seem to die in peace?” the priest asks. “Yes… but there was something strange, Father. Apparently, just before Daddy died, he leaned over and rested his head on a chair beside the bed.”
“When you pass through the waters, I will be with you…
Since you are precious in my sight… and I love you”
This is the Jesus of the Gospels. See the beloved disciple rest his head on Jesus’ chest. I think of Wesley’s words: “Jesus, Lover of my soul.” I think of Matheson’s precious words, “O love that wilt not let me go, I rest my weary soul in Thee.” The hymns that arise from a place of intimacy and being known, from being found and being loved.
On many occasions as chaplain, I have spoken the words of the Aaronic blessing to someone nearing the end of life, and they have been the last words spoken out loud before the person passed.
“The Lord bless you, and keep you;
The Lord cause His face to shine on you,
And be gracious to you;
The Lord lift up His face to you,
And give you peace.”
I look at Ramone’s painting. I study the expression on Jesus’ face. And the ancient blessing rings in my ears:
The Lord bless you, and keep you;
I know I am blessed. For all my running and anxiety, I am nevertheless known and kept. Lord, in Your mercy, bless and keep Ramone, and strengthen him in his ministry.
The Lord cause His face to shine on you,
And be gracious to you;
God shine Your face onto all those in Gaza, and be gracious unto them. God of miracles, shine Your needed light.
The Lord lift up His face to you,
And give you peace.
God bring Your peace to Gaza, and to all the places of this world where this is war. Bring Your peace into our hearts. Bring Your peace into my own heart! Look at me, and love me.
I know a man – a dear, dear friend of mine – who cries each time he enters a church. Something in the architecture, the windows, the community, the singing… Without words, he lets his tears speak for his heart, as he lays all his sorrows and anxieties down. I’m reminded of Hannah weeping before God without words. I pray for that man every night without fail when I say my own final prayers of the day. I know God will hear those prayers.
I know another man – an old friend of mine – who told me once how he cried every day for two months during a difficult season in his life. He’s with the Lord now. One day we’ll meet again in that place where there are no tears. But for now, until I too am called home, I remember how easily his tears came. And so, I will weep with those who weep. I will weep for those who suffer. I will weep for the absence of peace in Gaza. And every tear will be a prayer.
And I will weep when I look at Ramone’s painting of Jesus; the face of compassion, the hand scarred in the name of love. Wesley said, “Jesus, Thou art all compassion. Pure, unbounded love Thou art.” All compassion. Pure, unbounded love! The sentiment captured so perfectly in Ramone’s artwork.
I hung a picture on the wall of my office. I cried when I first saw it. I think I know why the tears keep coming.
Olly Ponsonby, August 2025
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Scripture refs. include – Ps 36:7, Jn 13:23, Jn 10:14,27,28, Is 43:2-4, Num 6:24-26, Mk 10:21,1 Sam 1:10,13, 2 Cor. 5:8, Rev 21:4, Ro 12:15.
This blog references artwork by Ramone Romero, entitled “Lead me Home.” Permission was obtained from the artist to reproduce the image here. Ramone’s “Jesus is in Gaza” artwork can be found at this link – https://www.instagram.com/p/DNn9aetBdgs/
“Being Christian after the Desolation of Gaza” is edited by Bruce N Fisk and J. Ross Wagner. Details can be found here – https://wipfandstock.com/9798385254859/being-christian-after-the-desolation-of-gaza/
“All that I want is…” from Little Fire by Patricia J Griffin, 2010. © Universal Music Publishing Group. https://genius.com/Patty-griffin-little-fire-lyrics
Brennan Manning tells the story of the Empty Chair at this link – https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gPEnKes5P6U
“Jesus, lover of my soul” by Charles Wesley, 1740. Public domain. https://hymnary.org/text/jesus_lover_of_my_soul_let_me_to_thy_bos
“O love that wilt not let me go” by George Matheson, 1882. Public domain. https://hymnary.org/text/o_love_that_wilt_not_let_me_go
“Jesus, Thou art all compassion” from Love Divine, all loves excelling by Charles Wesley, 1747. Public domain. https://hymnary.org/text/love_divine_all_love_excelling_joy_of_he
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