The Absolute Safety of God

It is through encountering the absolute safety of God that we discover our True Self, 

and in finding our truest self, we find a God who is always and forever larger than we expected.

(Richard Rohr's Daily Meditation: Friday, Jan. 24, 2020)

"The absolute safety of God," it seems to me, is what everyone in the world is looking for.  If for no other reason, Jesus became incarnate to put into flesh "the absolute safety of God."  Without having this truth in front of our eyes, we could never trust in it.  Or, as St. John put it:

That which was from the beginning, which we have heard, which we have seen with our eyes, which we have looked at and our hands have touched -- this we proclaim concerning the Word of life.  The life appeared; we have seen it and testify to is, and we proclaim to you the eternal life, which was with the Father and has appeared to us.  We proclaim to you what we have seen and heard, so that you also may have fellowship with us.  And our fellowship is with the Father and with his Son, Jesus Christ.

When St. Peter first encountered divinity in the Jesus he knew, his response was, "Depart from me, O Lord, for I am a sinful man"  (Luke 5:8).  I would call that "the universal response" to encountering divinity.  Fortunately, however, that was not Peter's first encounter with Jesus.  John's gospel tells of their very first meeting:  

Andrew, Simon Peter's brother, was one of the two who heard what John had said and who had followed Jesus.  The first thing Andrew did was to find his brother Simon and tell him, "We have found the Messiah."  Then he brought Simon to Jesus, who looked at him and said, "You are Simon son of John.  You will be called Cephas" (which, when translated, is Peter). 

The footnote tells us that both Cephas (Aramaic) and Peter (Greek) mean "rock."

The same pattern occurs again when Philip finds Nathanael and brings him to Jesus.  Jesus "looks at him" and says, "Here is a true Israelite, in whom there is nothing false."  ..... Then Nathanael declared, "Rabbi, you are the Son of God; you are the king of Israel."

In other words, our first real encounter with divinity is one that conveys to us "the absolute safety of God," one that reveals immediately who we are and who God is.  In His glance, in His seeing who we are, we know we are safe, we know we are loved without limit, and we know Him.  Later, perhaps, there will be time for "Depart from me, O Lord, for I am a sinful man," but for now, we know ourselves in an infinite and eternal embrace of love and safety.  At last, we are free to be who we were born to be.  He has called us by name; in fact, He has renamed us to be who we truly are!

The Catechism of the Catholic Church says, authority, stability, and a life of relationships within the family constitute the foundations for freedom, security, and fraternity within society....family life is an initiation into life in society (2207).  In an ideal world, children would grow up within the "absolute safety" of a family life where they can be who they are without fear, even in their frailty and imperfection.  They can learn that it is okay to be less than perfect, because they are deeply loved and because no one else is perfect either.  Unfortunately, few of us have known perfect love and absolute safety within family life -- and even fewer of us have been able as parents to communicate that love and safety to our children.

So we "fear" the judgment of God, not in a healthy way, as children fear their parents' disapproval, but in an unhealthy fear of punishment.  Encountering Jesus Christ in the sacraments, "in the flesh," so to speak, and knowing the absolute safety of His seeing us as we are is the beginning of knowing that we are loved, that we are "perfect," that we are His.

I will not leave you orphans....

We tend to remember and cherish forever the last words of those we love.  How often do we hear from heartbroken friends, "The last thing he said (or did) was....."  And when someone knows he is dying, the last words or deeds take one even greater import.

The book of John can be divided into two major sections:  The Book of Signs, where Jesus reveals Himself to those who for the most part did not accept Him, and The Book of Glory, wherein Jesus reveals Himself to those who do receive and become intimate with Him.  The Book of Glory encompasses the farewell discourse at the Last Supper, the Passion and Death, and the Resurrection.

At the Last Supper (Chapters 13-17), we find the most loving and intimate words of Jesus, where we see Him in communion with His Father (chapter 17) and with His disciples.  His greatest desire is that the disciples (that's us) be in communion with His Father, even as He is: I have made You known to them, and will continue to make You known, in order that the love you have for me may be in them, and that I myself may be in them (17:26).  These are the very last words Jesus speaks to His (collective)disciples/church before His arrest in the garden.

"To know" to "to be known" in the Biblical sense means to be intimate with on all levels -- physically, mentally, spiritually:  Adam "knew" his wife and she conceived a son (Genesis 4:1).  Marriage is the great sign of God's eternal desire to be "one" with us, to be intimate with us on all levels.  Jesus' great mission is to make the Father "known" to us, or intimate with us -- and He gave us the means to accomplish this seemingly impossible task.

In the 14th and 16th chapters, Jesus speaks at length about the Holy Spirit that He will send to us to accomplish all that needs to be done.  I think among the sweetest words in all of scripture are those Jesus speaks to His disciples at that time:  I will not leave you as orphans; I will come to you....before long, the world will see me no more, but you will see me (14:18-19).

When we ponder Chapters 14, 15, 16 of John's Gospel, it seems to me that these are the words a parent might want to say to her children on her deathbed:  I will be with you; you will live in me; maintain among yourselves the same communion that you have with me; do not be frightened or overcome; I will be your advocate with God.

The idea of "knowing God," of being intimate with God, is inconceivable to us.  Yet, Jesus promised to send the Holy Spirit, the "breath of the Father" to lead us into all truth and to make Him known to us.  "I will not leave you as orphans....."  "I myself will be in them...."  

The first letter of John, written at the end of his life, proclaims after many years of reflecting on Jesus' last words: This is how we know that He lives in us: we know it by the Spirit He gave us.

We are not orphans; we are loved, and we know it by the Spirit He gave us!

Paying Attention

Cleaning out old files for the new year, I came across Ron Rolheiser's "Top Ten Books in Spirituality for 2018."  Now, just about anything Rolheiser writes is worth paying attention to -- but his top ten list is worth saving, which I obviously had done.  Saved, yes.  Acted upon, no -- at least not in 2019.  However, upon re-reading the article, I decided to act, and I chose to order one of his favorites---The Biography of Silence by Pablo d'Ors.  Here is Rolheiser's commentary on that book:

This book (small, short, and an easy read) can be a good shot in the arm for anyone who however unconsciously, feels that prayer isn't worth the time and the effort.  Writing out of a long habit of silent meditation, Ors show us what kind of gifts prayer can bring into our lives.

As I began reading Ors' book, I indeed found it short and easy -- but the further I read, the more I wondered about Rolheiser's commentary on "prayer."  It seemed more and more to me that Ors was recommending "mindfulness" more than actual prayer, although he doesn't use either term.  His book seems to be more about "paying attention" in silence to whatever is going on in our lives physically, mentally, spiritually.  He writes about sitting in silence -- a somewhat painful practice at first-- and just observing what is going on in our lives. So far, he has not referred to a more "spiritual" process of invoking God as a partner in our observation, or of asking Divine Intervention in our affairs.

In full disclosure, I must admit that I have not yet finished the book, so I'm sure there is much more to come.  However, since I trust Ron Rolheiser's judgment, I decided to try Ors' insight.  Although it has been only a few days since I began to practice silent observation, I can already see that it is making a huge difference in my life with very little effort.  

As with most older people, I often find myself wide awake in the middle of the night -- either because I have gotten up for the bathroom, or just because I have gone to bed too early and have gotten enough sleep by 1:00 am.  Over the years, I have learned to welcome this awake time as a time of prayer instead of struggling to go back to sleep.  After having read a few chapters of The Biography of Silence, I decided to practice Ors' method of simply observing, or of "paying attention" to my body, my mind, my spirit without commentary or narrative or even, at this point, prayer about the conditions.  

My first observation that first night was of something that was actually keeping me awake:  for a few weeks, I had been getting out of bed every day with some pain in my back, hip, and legs.  I realized when putting up Christmas decorations a few weeks before, that my legs were hurting so badly that I had to sit down for awhile.  I lay there in the middle of the night just paying attention to the pain in one leg, observing where it was, where it moved, and so on.  No commentary, no real thinking about it.  Just observing.  The next morning, I began observing the pain in my hip and back as I arose and moved about the day.  Paying attention to this one thing.  

I did not pray about it or worry about it.  I had no anxiety -- I guess I had been chalking it up to creeping old age for some time.  But here's the amazing thing:  it sort of dawned on me that although our mattress was only 4 years old, I might be needing more support than it was giving me.  So I went to Walmart and bought a mattress topper that relieves pressure points and then put a small board under that for support.  Bingo!  no more leg pain, no more back pain!  Simply by paying attention to this one thing.  

And I began to notice afterwards how many things in my daily routine I was not paying attention to.  Simple things, things that can fly under the radar without much consequence.  So now I find myself slowing down every day to simply "pay attention" in silence, without judgment, without worry, without really trying to fix things.  Just observing.  And I realize now that simply paying attention is a form of prayer.

I think I'll keep reading The Biography of Silence.  Thanks, Fr. Rolheiser!