On letting God be God

Spiritual Life, Spring 2000 by Schaab, Gloria

THE SEVENTEENTH-CENTURY POET John Donne once told the story of a group of people who were searching for God. To assist them in their search, they sought advice from others who, like themselves, desired to find God and who had experience with such a quest. The seekers were told that God dwelt on a high mountain in a far distant place, and, despite warnings about how long the journey and how arduous the climb, the seekers set out in search of God. They finally arrived at the foot of the mountain, and, wearied but encouraged, they began the ascent.

About the same time the seekers began to climb the mountain, God sat thinking at the summit. "What can I do," God mused, "to show my people how much I love them and that I am always with them, in their very midst?" Suddenly God thought, "I know what I shall do! I shall descend this mountain and become one of them. I shall live among the people of my heart, and I shall be God-withthem." With that, God began the descent.

Needless to say, when the group of seekers reached the summit and God was not to be found, they were crestfallen. "God doesn't live here after all," they groaned. "And if God does not live here, then where?" The ancient seekers are much like ourselves. We seek for God on mountaintops, in deserts, at seashores, in signs and miracles, and become discouraged if God is not readily found in the places we look. The true miracle, however, is that at the very moment we are going elsewhere to search for God in some extraordinary place or way, God is drawing near to us where we are.

My Mountain Experience

Once on a mountain of my own, during a retreat some years ago, I sat on a small knoll on the grounds of Weston Priory in Vermont, meditating on the gospel of Luke. On this particular day, the Pharisees had captured my attention. They were a wellmeaning group who sincerely believed that they had figured out a way to know and do God's will through the observance of 613 laws that governed their daily choices. It was all rather well-defined and apparently foolproof' No wonder Jesus' call to entertain the spirit of the law rather than simply the letter of it came as such a shock! By challenging them to use their common sense and to be attentive to their life experiences, Jesus called them to "Ephphata!" (Be opened!). He endeavored to stretch the limits, push the boundaries, and broaden the perspective they had of God and God's purposes. Jesus sought to let the living God be God. A God with that much freedom, however, was far too risky for religious leaders with an investment in playing it safe.

For me at that moment, such a risk-free existence no longer seemed so safe. I had come in touch with this Pharisaism within myself, and I was unsettled by it. In that meditative moment, the fearfulness of it all became overwhelmingly clear. I knew that the fear of disapproval and isolation always clamored more loudly than the whispered wisdom of God in my lived experience.

Suddenly, I caught sight of Jesus, rushing across the field of my meditation. He was waving his arms emphatically and shouting, "Too small! Too small! Don't measure at all!" Though startled by this revelation, like Mary at her annunciation, I knew what his greeting meant. It was clearly a call to me to stretch my limits, push my boundaries, and broaden my perspective about God. My measure was too small. God's intimate Presence was promised; I need only let it be.

Openness to God

Truly, God is present to each of us, within each of us, indeed overshadowing each of us in a way unique to oneself. Yet, we often feel out of touch with God, unable to connect with God's Presence or purposes, and most frequently so in our daily lives. If God is in our midst, we wonder why God can't be a little more obvious about it. We tend to think that "seeing is believing" and, if we could only see God with us, we would believe God-with-us. But perhaps like children, whose own size restricts their field of vision to kneecaps, belt buckles, and table edges, our perspective is "too small, too small." Perhaps we have limited our experience of God to places and faces which are familiar or comfortable. Perhaps we need to grow into the freedom of letting God be God and keep vigil!

Around us and within us-in creation, persons, and events-God continues to come, revealing the infinite through the finite world. In matters of faith, believing God's revelation of this truth leads to the capacity fur seeing God's revelation in all things. This belief, then, transforms our limited perception of daily events from simply ordinary happenings to extraordinary opportunities for encounter with God.

The story is told of a woman who was enduring an especially difficult time in her life. She shared with her spiritual director her desire to have some sign from God that God was with her in this time of suffering and that God would bring meaning from this experience. Some time later, while watching the opening sequence of a local newscast which ran nightly, she saw in the segment a rainbow, which also appeared nightly. But this time her belief in God's fidelity to her, even in her darkness, enabled her to see in this ordinary moment an extraordinary revelation of God with her. Believing was seeing-much to her own, and, I dare say, God's delight!