They cried one to the other,
“Holy, holy, holy is the LORD of hosts! All the earth is filled with his glory!”
At the sound of that cry, the frame of the door shook and the house was filled with smoke.
Then I said, “Woe is me, I am doomed!
Mystics speak of their extreme anguish upon finding themselves in the Presence of God. Today's readings from Isaiah and the Gospel of Saint Luke tell us of two men, in quite different places, who found the Lord God very near. Isaiah was in the sanctuary of the temple; Peter was up to his hips in squirming fish.
But there are many stories of theophany like these; I would not be surprised if everyone on earth had a similar experience, although they are often dismissed and forgotten.
First there is the coming of divinity. It matters not which sense -- the eyes, ears, or inner imagination -- knows the Presence. There it is and it is beautiful beyond measure. It is Good, not in the relative sense of better but as absolute and original. Saint Paul sang, "eye has not seen, ear has not heard what God has ready for those who love him," but the seer knows -- seems to comprehend for a moment -- the essential nature of God.
And then comes the realization, the discovery of myself in God's presence. "What am I doing here?" And then the fear, "Woe is me, I am doomed for I have seen the face of God." Or the shame, "Oh Lord I am not worthy." Or intense grief for it is gone, with feelings of desolation and abandonment.
I opened for my lover—
but my lover had turned and gone!
At his leaving, my soul sank.
I sought him, but I did not find him;
I called out after him, but he did not answer me.
The watchmen found me,
as they made their rounds in the city;
They beat me, they wounded me,
they tore off my mantle,
the watchmen of the walls.
I adjure you, Daughters of Jerusalem,
If you find my lover
What shall you tell him?
that I am sick with love.
People discover similar feelings of loss about a lover but they have mistaken infatuation for the encounter with Good. The grief is real, as is the experience, but the affection is misplaced. Should their love ripen into the bonds of friendship or covenanted marriage, they understand how the loved one must point away from themselves to the Lord. Our saints do that. Mary, the queen of all saints, never said, "Do what I tell you." Rather, she told us in no uncertain terms, "Do whatever he tells you!"
Coming to the Lord, many people remember that astonishment in God's presence. The Church is an assembly of such people, each with a unique story that seems to bear little resemblance to another's. The sanctuary of every Catholic church replicates Jerusalem's Holy of Holies where Isaiah saw the Lord. The crucifix depicts our God upon his throne.
Our quest should not be like that of Perceval, to find the Holy Grail. Rather, we aspire to be worthy when the Holy Grail comes to us. This worthiness entails forgetfulness of self, or "the loss of self." As in "dying to oneself." Rather than "Woe is me!" we will sing, "Holy, Holy, Holy" with the astonishment of the angels.
No comments:
Post a Comment
I love to write. This blog helps me to meditate on the Word of God, and I hope to make some contribution to our contemplations of God's Mighty Works.
Ordinarily, I write these reflections two or three weeks in advance of their publication. I do not intend to comment on current events.
I understand many people prefer gender-neutral references to "God." I don't disagree with them but find that language impersonal, unappealing and tasteless. When I refer to "God" I think of the One whom Jesus called "Abba" and "Father", and I would not attempt to improve on Jesus' language.
You're welcome to add a thought or raise a question.