My God

There is reason for being cautious in taking up this subject. After all, we’re not talking about ‘my dog’ or ‘my mother’, subjects for which there are many variations of the same. Poodles and Saint Bernards, meddlers and saints, madonnas and moms come in varying sizes and temperaments.
Concerning God however, there is only one. There is no other. ‘I am that I am’ God told Moses; ‘before Abraham was, I am’, said Jesus. The One who is, is – regardless of our opinion or belief. For it is clear we do not live in a world of happenstance, but in a broad intricate universe of impeccable order and design, on a planet precisely the right distance from the sun, in a time and space precisely suited to who we are. From atoms to galaxies, even the most cursory glance at the precarious yet precise balance in which life is held is reason to sing: He’s got the whole world in his hands.
In life as in newsprint, to err is human. Every day we are reminded. Gods left to the design of either our imagination or intellect come out in more shapes and sizes than either dogs or mothers ever could. Moloch, Mammon, Nihilism, the Fuehrer or the Force; the lesson is hopelessly repetitive: bad gods only make for bad behaviour in the long run. We are too easily taken by things that look good, too easily consumed by envy for what we don’t have, and blind to the treasure we have already. Rather than appreciate what we have, we work ourselves into a tizzy to get what we think we want. And no sooner than the getting is done, when a new craving begins. In our haste to appease these gods of wants, we have no time for the One who invites us to be still and know I am God…who humbly answers to the only One we need.
For in him we live and move and have our being..
Like grains of sand in an hourglass, we are blind to the transparency which shapes us. We are his offspring but we can’t see him. Call it blindness, call it indifference, call it sin, we are cut off from the God who is.
Mine eyes have seen the coming of the glory of the Lord.
Clearly some have and some do see him. Whether Martin Luther King, or Francis of Assisi, Mother Theresa or Jean Vanier; there is a spell-binding depth to their convictions. They all tell of a moment when they could see something more in Jesus than what they had in themselves…a ‘my God’ moment when everything thereafter would be different. And drawing on his life rather than their own, they live life the way Jesus did. They became infatuated with the real life experience of feeling God’s pleasure by doing as Jesus did. Loving their enemies, taking care of the poor, they became the visible evidence of God’s ongoing work to liberate his people.
We have seen this ongoing work in our time. Ruthless dictators being disposed without a gun being fired; a dividing wall crumble without a bomb being dropped; the dismantling of apartheid without a torturous civil war; homes of refuge being built among the disadvantaged, more safe despite their fragility than what privileged people know. All which begs the question: Why them and not us?
The pre-requisite to our sharing in their convictions is not a matter of knowing. It is a matter of loving.
Simon, son of John, do you love me? ... Then feed my sheep.
This was the my God moment in Simon Peter’s life. The first pastor of the church would feed his sheep not because he ought to, but because of who he loved. The ‘my God’ moment came to Francis of Assisi when he embraced the leper who had until that moment turned his back on.
Blessed are the poor for theirs is the Kingdom of heaven.
My ‘my God’ moment came through embracing human need and like some mad impulsive lover, I yearn for more.