We depend almost exclusively on our cellphones for verbal communication. That’s our reality these days. On the day my cellphone became “comatose,” I could not call or receive calls. Suddenly, I was completely alone, out of touch, isolated from family, friends! My reality at that moment was radical isolation, irrational and frightening. I felt separated as the Psalmist did. “Why O Lord do you stand far off? Why do you hide yourself in times of trouble?” Psalm 10:1
Life in Christ calls for a new kind of seeing and knowing. So, I see this as a metaphor of being isolated from God. This is not a state of being I choose. Who would? I know in my heart God does not hide from me or stand far off from me. In the event, I had to imagine a place of quiet to comfort my soul. I took a deep breath and found in Psalm 131:3 hopeful words, “But I still my soul and make it quiet, like a child upon its mother’s breast; my soul is quieted within me.”
Sanctified imagination invited me into the context of our faith’s story. This kind of imagining helps us see how our faith expands our understanding. It gives us the courage to reach beyond the limitations of the dogmatic renderings of our faith. Sanctified imagination gives flight and color to the text in our time.
During this feeling of isolation, uncertain in my faith, of my relationship with God, my instinct was to seize control, to try to get a hold of what I know about God. I tend to see this as a theological, intellectual problem rather than approaching God as someone with whom I’m in a loving relationship.
Jesus shows me the way into a deeper relationship with God through trusting, embracing with certainty that God knows me, does not abandon me. Yet, I am like those of whom Saint Augustine speaks: “They knew, but they did not know that they knew.”
Paul writes in 1 Corinthians, “For now we see only a reflection, as in a mirror, but then we will see face to face. Now I know only in part; then I will know fully, even as I have been fully known.”
So, how do I know but do not realize I know? I think this happens when I see expressions of quiet and certain faith; generous acts of kindness and acceptance; when I see someone embrace with hope and faith God’s healing presence; when I experience the immensity and beauty of pristine nature, when I worship God in community and in quiet prayer. And especially as I live in the tension of awaiting the ultimate fulfillment of God’s promises.
In that tension, I envision everyone, all those I love now and have loved, invited by Our Lord into eternal and abundant life, fade into that great cloud of witnesses.
“For there is nothing hidden except to be disclosed; nor is anything secret except to come to light” Mark 4:22
Inspired by Charisse R. Tucker’s meditation in The Living Church magazine
Life in Christ calls for a new kind of seeing and knowing. So, I see this as a metaphor of being isolated from God. This is not a state of being I choose. Who would? I know in my heart God does not hide from me or stand far off from me. In the event, I had to imagine a place of quiet to comfort my soul. I took a deep breath and found in Psalm 131:3 hopeful words, “But I still my soul and make it quiet, like a child upon its mother’s breast; my soul is quieted within me.”
Sanctified imagination invited me into the context of our faith’s story. This kind of imagining helps us see how our faith expands our understanding. It gives us the courage to reach beyond the limitations of the dogmatic renderings of our faith. Sanctified imagination gives flight and color to the text in our time.
During this feeling of isolation, uncertain in my faith, of my relationship with God, my instinct was to seize control, to try to get a hold of what I know about God. I tend to see this as a theological, intellectual problem rather than approaching God as someone with whom I’m in a loving relationship.
Jesus shows me the way into a deeper relationship with God through trusting, embracing with certainty that God knows me, does not abandon me. Yet, I am like those of whom Saint Augustine speaks: “They knew, but they did not know that they knew.”
Paul writes in 1 Corinthians, “For now we see only a reflection, as in a mirror, but then we will see face to face. Now I know only in part; then I will know fully, even as I have been fully known.”
So, how do I know but do not realize I know? I think this happens when I see expressions of quiet and certain faith; generous acts of kindness and acceptance; when I see someone embrace with hope and faith God’s healing presence; when I experience the immensity and beauty of pristine nature, when I worship God in community and in quiet prayer. And especially as I live in the tension of awaiting the ultimate fulfillment of God’s promises.
In that tension, I envision everyone, all those I love now and have loved, invited by Our Lord into eternal and abundant life, fade into that great cloud of witnesses.
“For there is nothing hidden except to be disclosed; nor is anything secret except to come to light” Mark 4:22
Inspired by Charisse R. Tucker’s meditation in The Living Church magazine
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