God Just Got Bigger

In Three Philosophies of Life, Peter Kreeft writes about three books in the Old Testament that essentially outline three ways to live and view life: Ecclesiates, life as vanity; Job, life as suffering; and Song of Songs, life as love. These are analogous to hell, purgatory, and heaven. In regards to Job, he writes about God:

Because of what God is, he cannot show up in answer to Job’s questions, in function of Job’s needs. God will not answer Job because God is not the answer Man. He is not the Answerer, the Responder. He is the Initiator, the Questioner. He is not second but first, “in the beginning”. His name (which reveals his essence) is “I AM”, not “HE IS”. God exists in the First Person Singular. He is subject, not Object, not even object of Job’s searchings and questionings.

Everyone who has ever met God as distinct from a concept of God, all the saints and mystics, everyone, in other words, who is like Job rather like Job’s three theologian friends, has said the same thing: when you meet God, you cannot put the meeting into words, much less the God you meet. God cannot be an object of our concepts. Concepts shatter like broken eyeglasses, like broken eyes—in fact, like broken I’s. No longer am I I and God my Thou, my object; now God is I, and I am his thou, his object. Thus the mystics say such strange things about the self, as if it were an illusion or destroyed in this encounter. The illusion that is destroyed is not the self itself but its usual standpoint in which I am I, the center, and God appears on my screen somewhere. This self is illusion, and God shatters it by reversing the standpoint: we appear on his screen. We are his object, not ours.

God, You just got bigger than I ever imagined. I knew You were bigger than my imagination, and I know You are infinitely more than finite language can describe, but even the way I or we use language is incorrect when it comes to You. Being all-knowing, all-powerful, creator of the whole universe and everything else is pretty darn big in itself (or Yourself), but You cannot even be the object of any thing. You are always the subject, never the object. I say that You are my God, but that is not exactly correct in the description of our relationship. I am Yours. I am the thou to Your I in our I-thou relationship.

And the question to You is not, “What is the meaning of life?” You will not answer it. The question comes from You for me to answer, “What is the meaning of life for me?” What do I make of my life, my gift from You? How do I live it?

Oh, Father! I am not sure of the answer. I know what the books say. I know what the Church and the saints say. My purpose is to love You and to love others. My head knows what this technically means. My heart knows what it means in a wordless, lived kind of way. I think they match, but I am unsure. Currents of doubt sweep around my feet as to what it truly means to love You. The how’s, the why’s, the what’s? I know the who’s and Who. Ahh, the why’s—the question You ask—What is the meaning of life for me? To love You and to love others, is that enough? It should be; I think I know it is; but the distractions of this world say that there should be more. Forgive me for my lack of focus.

I thought I had most of it figured out, but I don’t. I never did. I have heard that it is the seeking that is much more important than the finding. Either my head or my heart believes this, but I am not sure which one. Doubt creeps in through this asynchronicity.

I trust in You. Help me to be patient and persevere in faith and hope, and especially in love.

Your Cross

The everlasting God has
in His wisdom foreseen
from eternity the cross
that He now presents to you
as a gift from His inmost heart.

This cross He now sends you
He has considered with His all-knowing eyes,
understood with His divine mind,
tested with His wise justice,
warmed with loving arms
and weighed with His own hands
to see that it be not one inch too large
and not one ounce too heavy for you.

He has blessed it with His holy Name,
anointed it with His consolation,
taken one last glance at you
and your courage,
and then sent it to you from heaven,
a special greeting from God to you,
an alms of the all-merciful love of God.

— Saint Francis de Sales

The Empty Chair

A man’s daughter had asked the local minister to come and pray with her father. When the minister arrived, he found the man lying in bed with his head propped up on two pillows. An empty chair sat beside his bed.

The minister assumed that the old fellow had been informed of his visit. “I guess you were expecting me.”

“No, who are you?” replied the bedridden man.

The minister told him his name and then remarked, “I saw the empty chair and I figured you knew I was coming over.”

“Oh yeah, the chair,” said the man. “Would you mind closing the door?” Puzzled, the minister shut the door. “I have never told anyone this, not even my daughter,” said the man.

“All of my life, I have never known how to pray. At church I used to hear the pastor talk about prayer, but it went right over my head. I abandoned any attempt at prayer,” the old man continued, “until one day four years ago, my best friend said to me, ‘Johnny, prayer is just a simple matter of having a conversation with Jesus. Here is what I suggest: sit down in a chair, place an empty chair in front of you, and in faith see Jesus on the chair.’”

“‘It’s not spooky,’ my friend said, ‘because Jesus promised, I will be with you always. Just speak to him in the same way you’re doing with me right now.’”

“So, I tried it and I’ve liked it so much that I do it a couple of hours every day. I’m careful though. If my daughter saw me talking to an empty chair, she’d either have a nervous breakdown or send me off to the funny farm.”

The minister was deeply moved by the story and encouraged the old man to continue on the journey. Then he prayed with him, anointed him with oil, and returned to the church.

Two nights later, the daughter called to tell the minister that her father had died that afternoon.

“Did he die in peace?” the minister asked.

“Yes. When I left the house about two o’clock, he called me over to his bedside, told me he loved me and kissed me on the cheek. When I got back from the store an hour later, I found him. He had passed on while I was away.”

“But there was something strange about his death. Apparently, just before Daddy died, he leaned over and rested his head on the chair beside the bed. What do you make of that?”

The minister wiped a tear from his eye and said, “I wish we could all go like that.”

— Author unknown

Prepare the Way of the Lord

My daily prayer for Advent this year:

Gracious God,
   inspire us this Advent
   to make straight our ways
   so you can come to us and to our world.

Challenge us to fill in our valleys
   by increasing our deeds of charity,
   by expanding our times in prayer,
   and enlarging our gratitude for all your gifts.

Guide us with the light of your Spirit
   to be aware of the rough ways in our relationships
   with family, friends, and strangers,
   with co-workers, co-learners,
   and with those in authority.

Help us smooth out the bumps,
   and hills and mountains in the way.

Grant us patience as we pick away at Old Pride’s Peak,
   our mountian of self-importance and selfishness.

With your grace may we become less,
   so that you can be more present in us.

May we carve out a space in ourselves
   where the Prince of Peace, the Wonder Counselor,
   can be born.

By all these Advent works
   may we prepare a roadway
   for a truly holy Christmas.
   Amen.

— Fr. Edward Hays, Make Straight the Crooked Ways

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