Editor's note: This week, The Tidings begins an eight-part series, "Keys to the Spiritual Life in Times of Transition," prepared by the Archdiocesan Spirituality Commission.
A few years ago a young woman named Linda, who has suffered much in her life, went to a counselor seeking his help in finding God in her pain. He patiently led her into a quiet interior place of meditation where he invited her to sit still and pay attention to the pain, without judgment. Linda initially balked at his invitation, but with his gentle encouragement and persistence, she entered into that stillness and held her pain with awareness.
At the beginning of the exercise, she felt overwhelmed and terrified by the enormity of it all. But Linda gradually began to experience a calming sensation. When she opened her eyes, she knew that she was different. Linda's mindful presence did not change the pain in her life; rather it transformed her perspective of the pain, and allowed her to see more clearly the bigger picture, as God sees it.
For we are God's partners in our life just as we are partners in God's life. Someone once said: "God comes to us disguised as our life." Reality is our friend and mentor in the spiritual life. It is here, in the daily stuff of ordinariness, that we find God, and discover the depth of who we are in God's presence.
Finding God in all things includes finding him in those dark, lonely, empty and painful areas of our lives. Suffering often means bearing the excruciating process of birthing something new: a new insight, a clearer perspective, a greater willingness to let life be, or a lesson learned. To "suffer," in the original meaning of the word, meant "to allow" or "to bear" the process of human pain as it unfolded in its own time and context. When we were baptized in Christ, we acknowledged this truth and actually ritualized it by being immersed in the waters of death, so that we might remember this truth throughout our life.
This essential work of spiritual maturity is understood and contained in the traditional virtue of long-suffering. Perhaps we might refer to this necessary attitude as a "spirituality of obedience" - bowing to the great and deep truths of the underworld of pain, sorrow and suffering. Life is not all light and cheery; it is dark and mysterious as well.
In Linda's story of pain, the counselor was present to her in a tangible way. With God, it is a bit different. In times of darkness, God is not just beside us in our suffering; God is immersed with us in our suffering. As St. Thomas More said: "God did not come to suppress suffering, not even to explain it, but to fill it with his presence."
What this means realistically is that we cannot see God clearly in the dark, ugly and painful parts of our life, because God is so close to us, he becomes almost invisible. It is only in looking back, usually, that we recognize God's presence by the effects of his visitation.
The light, joyful and peaceful experiences of life are easy demonstrations of God's blessings upon humankind. They are like forest meadows or glorious mountains in God's beautiful creation. But the dark, difficult struggles of reality are lessons to be learned and integrated into the larger complex of God's wisdom in our lives.
God's presence is a grounding presence that holds us firm in the moment so that we can receive God's revelation and learn to know God from within. To try and escape too soon from the dark place of pain or doubt is to miss the very place of revelation. Is this not what we say and believe, that God revealed his salvific love for us in the place of deepest, darkest human suffering on the cross? Why then would it be any different for any one of us (Romans 8:39)? The cross is our reality unfolding in the mystery of time.
Mystics tell us that pain is a better teacher than ecstasy because we remember the lesson longer. By standing firm on the unseen but known experience of God's presence, we "see" God afterwards in the "tracks" that he leaves behind (e.g., an insight received, the resolution of a task, the gift of fortitude, a sense of peace). In darkness, we rarely see and acknowledge God's loving presence right away. It is only after the pain has subsided that we can see that God was indeed there.
Once, so the story goes, there was a middle-aged man named Isaac, who had a dream one night about finding a treasure hidden in a foreign land. He was so excited and energized by the dream he decided to go in search of the treasure. Isaac traveled far and wide trying to discern where this treasure might be.
Finally he stood before a bridge that was guarded by a cohort of soldiers who would not let him pass over to the other side. He pleaded with the guard night after night to no avail, to let him cross over to the other side. Finally one soldier asked him why it was so important for him to cross over this deep chasm. Isaac then told him his dream.
The soldier laughed and said, "Oh, yes, I have had ridiculous dreams like that as well. Why, just last night I dreamt that there was a bag of treasure hidden in the bedroom wall of a man named Isaac. Now isn't that silly?"
When Isaac heard those words, his heart quickened with excitement and he returned home to his family. He went into his bedroom and opened the wall behind his bed and there discovered a bag of treasure.
Most of us believe that God is only to be found in the sensational, the miraculous, the sacred and beautiful aspects of life. But our God comes disguised in many forms so that we will take the time to look closer and discover not only God, but ourselves as well.
In nature, growth happens at night, in the darkness. During the day, creation is absorbing the materials that will be needed for this growth. Day and night work together to create a wonderful rhythmic dance of God's beautiful creation. It is no different for us, God's creatures.
We need both the work of light and the travail of darkness to enhance and fulfill God's plan for our maturing process. It is the darkness that highlights the light. Finding God in all things means we need to become practiced in searching for God's ways of revealing the divine presence in such unlikely places as a manger, a parable, a tortured criminal, an outcast, a refugee, in the supermarket, a hospital waiting room, or corporate boardroom.
How do we do this? By doing what Linda so courageously did - engage with reality in its simplest form, in whatever way that life presents itself and we will find God, waiting for us. Father Jim Clarke is director of spiritual formation at St. John's Seminary in Camarillo, and chairperson of the Archdiocesan Spirituality Commission. |