I was reading in the book of Romans today about the life of grace God Has willed for us; deliverance from the confines of the Law of Moses, and freedom instead to know and will the good by sharing in God's own life. We are joined to the death of Jesus, and we share in His resurrection. There is a sense in which He desires to become incarnate again in us. In a real way, we have died and been raised to a new life. The Holy Spirit--God Himself--dwells in our hearts, as in a tabernacle. We are members of the Mystical Body of Christ; this is not just an idea, we are really connected to other Christians. Our relationship with Jesus is nuptial. In some rites, Communion is received under a canopy as in bedroom; Jesus is our bridegroom, and we experience the depths of physical and spiritual communion with Him, a unity to which sexuality points. We are experiencing the unfolding of the drama of salvation, wherein we each must choose our eternal destiny.
That's a lot....
Too often, Christianity is reduced to a social club, a social-welfare organization, or something "tame" and "civilized" which "good" people think about on Sunday. There is nothing easy, tidy, or familiar about the real thing, though. We are summoned to participate in a deep and thrilling mystery and transformation. We literally die in the waters of baptism. We are summoned to commune with God nuptially through the life of grace. We are destined for the great romance of Heaven; our hearts, if they are alive in the Holy Spirit, long for this already.
Christianity is not about being "good," if being good means that we become boring, disconnected from our passions, cookie-cutter, and utterly practical. Too often, religion is presented as a "taming" influence on men. Yet, God is summoning us to be lovers, to return Him love for love. This does involve taming some things about us, sinners that we are. Yet, fundamentally, Christianity is about transforming us for Heaven, a place of perfect love in all of it's forms (eros, too). God is not boring. The gospel is fascinating and mysterious. The deepest love affair between two human beings still falls short of the love affair God has willed for us with Himself. As Christians, we must give witness to the fullness of riches that God shares with us and has destined us for.
To be developed in another post: poetry is the truest thing about us. The highs and lows, the passions, the thrills, the quest. That internal journey is what matters because that's where God meets us.
Wednesday, October 23, 2019
Meditation ~ Imagination and the Divine
As a songwriter, something about stream of consciousness styled lyrics feels right. I've never been happy with a song when I understand what it's "about." Although I enjoy listening to songs with concrete storytelling, something about that approach makes me feel "boxed in."
For a long time, I wondered if being random was just about getting a reaction out of the listener. Sure it felt right and worked, but it made me feel a bit like a charlatan or provocateur. Years later, after converting to Catholicism and thinking about songwriting in light of my faith, I realized that I could make sense of my experience in light of Catholic theology.
What my heart longs for is an encounter with the transcendent; Catholics believe that God is transcendent. He is revealed by creation, yet His grandeur transcends it. There is a "something more" about God that no relationship, career, lifestyle, dream vacation, or work of art will ever fully communicate. Stream of conscious lyrics, through surprising combinations and juxtapositions of imagery, can stretch our minds and experience just a bit. We can catch a fleeting glimpse of God who mysteriously unites all things in Himself, and defies our (comparatively) feeble minds.
Much of the Alternative/indie rock I listen to has lyrics that are styled in this way. You don't quite know what the song is about, but it hits you in a powerful way. When I was younger, I elevated my favorite songwriters to the status of prophets/prophetesses. I wondered if they had understood something about reality that I didn't; I turned songwriting into a kind of gnostic religion. As a Catholic, I now know to reject gnosticism in all of its forms. There is no other "reality" than the one common to all of us. As a result, there are no actual experiences that could directly inspire the mysterious lyrics of my favorite songwriters. Those songwriters were/are living in the same everyday world I live in. What they allowed themselves to do, is let their imaginations run wild.
Imagination, while not directly corresponding to concrete experience, can still be in a sense "real." At its best, it can be a response to the Holy Spirit, who plants a desire for "something more" in our hearts. That "something more," God in Heaven, does exist. As Paul explained, we see Heaven imperfectly reflected in creation, like looking at the image of a person in a dirty mirror instead of looking directly at them. Paul says that finally, one day, we will see "face to face." The long wait will be over, and we will definitively encounter the One we longed for while on our earthly sojourn.
In the meantime, art is cathartic. It can never substitute for God, but it can help satisfy our need for "something more," the God who transcends the world as we know it. For me, stream of conscious (random!) lyrics help me best access my imagination. In a mysterious way they bring me into contact with the Truth, more than anything "real" could.
For a long time, I wondered if being random was just about getting a reaction out of the listener. Sure it felt right and worked, but it made me feel a bit like a charlatan or provocateur. Years later, after converting to Catholicism and thinking about songwriting in light of my faith, I realized that I could make sense of my experience in light of Catholic theology.
What my heart longs for is an encounter with the transcendent; Catholics believe that God is transcendent. He is revealed by creation, yet His grandeur transcends it. There is a "something more" about God that no relationship, career, lifestyle, dream vacation, or work of art will ever fully communicate. Stream of conscious lyrics, through surprising combinations and juxtapositions of imagery, can stretch our minds and experience just a bit. We can catch a fleeting glimpse of God who mysteriously unites all things in Himself, and defies our (comparatively) feeble minds.
Much of the Alternative/indie rock I listen to has lyrics that are styled in this way. You don't quite know what the song is about, but it hits you in a powerful way. When I was younger, I elevated my favorite songwriters to the status of prophets/prophetesses. I wondered if they had understood something about reality that I didn't; I turned songwriting into a kind of gnostic religion. As a Catholic, I now know to reject gnosticism in all of its forms. There is no other "reality" than the one common to all of us. As a result, there are no actual experiences that could directly inspire the mysterious lyrics of my favorite songwriters. Those songwriters were/are living in the same everyday world I live in. What they allowed themselves to do, is let their imaginations run wild.
Imagination, while not directly corresponding to concrete experience, can still be in a sense "real." At its best, it can be a response to the Holy Spirit, who plants a desire for "something more" in our hearts. That "something more," God in Heaven, does exist. As Paul explained, we see Heaven imperfectly reflected in creation, like looking at the image of a person in a dirty mirror instead of looking directly at them. Paul says that finally, one day, we will see "face to face." The long wait will be over, and we will definitively encounter the One we longed for while on our earthly sojourn.
In the meantime, art is cathartic. It can never substitute for God, but it can help satisfy our need for "something more," the God who transcends the world as we know it. For me, stream of conscious (random!) lyrics help me best access my imagination. In a mysterious way they bring me into contact with the Truth, more than anything "real" could.
Tuesday, October 8, 2019
Meditation ~ Leaning Into Grace (You Can't Do It!)
When to splurge, when to save? When to try, when to let go? When to wait, when to move on? When to trust, when to part ways?
When we find it hard to manage our time, money, careers, relationships, dreams, goals, and fears, we are simply being honest with ourselves. The proper time and place for everything simply isn't obvious.
There is value in self-help pep talks, but at root we must make peace with the fact that we need God's guidance to navigate it all.
And yet, we spend much of our time bemoaning the presence of flaws, weaknesses, ignorance, and dissatisfaction. Yet, these things are a gift. They should keep us searching for union with something greater than ourselves. They are concrete proof that we are not God, and that we need God.
Thankfully, God is well aware of our deficiencies and wants to share His grace with us to compensate.
If we could navigate life well on our own, what need would we have for God?
If created things could completely satisfy us, what need would we have for God?
If we possessed every skill and virtue, what need would we have for God? (or others?)
If everything was "perfect," then we might imagine ourselves to be all-capable, but it would just be an illusion. There is simply no comparison between our own capabilities and God's. No human being discerns the total meaning of the past, present, and future. No human being can search and know hearts. No human being can save themselves. No human being has power over life and death. No human being could create and sustain the universe. We are so small in the vast scheme of things, yet we try to think and act as if we know it all and can do it all. Even more so, we vehemently resist the truth that we are sinners in need of grace.
Praise God for designing human nature such that, apart from His grace, it can not function.
Next time life corners us, may we say, "that's what grace is for!"
When we find it hard to manage our time, money, careers, relationships, dreams, goals, and fears, we are simply being honest with ourselves. The proper time and place for everything simply isn't obvious.
There is value in self-help pep talks, but at root we must make peace with the fact that we need God's guidance to navigate it all.
And yet, we spend much of our time bemoaning the presence of flaws, weaknesses, ignorance, and dissatisfaction. Yet, these things are a gift. They should keep us searching for union with something greater than ourselves. They are concrete proof that we are not God, and that we need God.
Thankfully, God is well aware of our deficiencies and wants to share His grace with us to compensate.
If we could navigate life well on our own, what need would we have for God?
If created things could completely satisfy us, what need would we have for God?
If we possessed every skill and virtue, what need would we have for God? (or others?)
If everything was "perfect," then we might imagine ourselves to be all-capable, but it would just be an illusion. There is simply no comparison between our own capabilities and God's. No human being discerns the total meaning of the past, present, and future. No human being can search and know hearts. No human being can save themselves. No human being has power over life and death. No human being could create and sustain the universe. We are so small in the vast scheme of things, yet we try to think and act as if we know it all and can do it all. Even more so, we vehemently resist the truth that we are sinners in need of grace.
Praise God for designing human nature such that, apart from His grace, it can not function.
Next time life corners us, may we say, "that's what grace is for!"
Monday, October 7, 2019
Meditation ~ The Balance of Relying on Mercy
Increasingly, I seek to live at the mercy of God.
To live at the mercy of God is to fully allow God to be God. Instead, we typically seek to make ourselves God, either by redefining the rules or by imagining ourselves to be all-good.
An obvious way of usurping God's place, is the flagrant disregard of His sovereignty. A less obvious way, is to try so hard in the spiritual life that we expect a spiritual A+ and all of the attached benefits. It is to refuse to be genuine and take the risks God asks, because we are clinging to the life path that we think is earning us a spiritual A+
If we sincerely seek to live in His mercy, then:
1) We will avoid the extreme of presuming upon God's grace. After all, if we are sincerely living in a posture of petitioning God for His mercy, we will not want to deliberately offend Him.
2) We will avoid the extreme of Pharisee-ism, a way of living religion whereby we "know" are perfect by virtue of crossing every religious i-and-t. If we think we are perfect, perhaps we are not taking enough risks for God. The shepherd should smell of the sheep; do we? Are we are living in a way that is too separate from the world? Jesus ate and drank at table with sinners. Are we so preoccupied with our spotlessness that we can not do the same? Perhaps there are people God would like us to reach that we are too "perfect" for. Perhaps there is a life path God is calling us to, but we are too afraid of the possibility of sinning that we stay safely on the sidelines of life. If we truly seek to live in God's mercy, we will avoid a mentality by which we try to play it safe all the time.
To live at the mercy of God is to fully allow God to be God. Instead, we typically seek to make ourselves God, either by redefining the rules or by imagining ourselves to be all-good.
An obvious way of usurping God's place, is the flagrant disregard of His sovereignty. A less obvious way, is to try so hard in the spiritual life that we expect a spiritual A+ and all of the attached benefits. It is to refuse to be genuine and take the risks God asks, because we are clinging to the life path that we think is earning us a spiritual A+
If we sincerely seek to live in His mercy, then:
1) We will avoid the extreme of presuming upon God's grace. After all, if we are sincerely living in a posture of petitioning God for His mercy, we will not want to deliberately offend Him.
2) We will avoid the extreme of Pharisee-ism, a way of living religion whereby we "know" are perfect by virtue of crossing every religious i-and-t. If we think we are perfect, perhaps we are not taking enough risks for God. The shepherd should smell of the sheep; do we? Are we are living in a way that is too separate from the world? Jesus ate and drank at table with sinners. Are we so preoccupied with our spotlessness that we can not do the same? Perhaps there are people God would like us to reach that we are too "perfect" for. Perhaps there is a life path God is calling us to, but we are too afraid of the possibility of sinning that we stay safely on the sidelines of life. If we truly seek to live in God's mercy, we will avoid a mentality by which we try to play it safe all the time.
Meditation ~ Following the Heart
Following the heart.....
What does that mean from a Catholic perspective?
The heart is the temple where God dwells. While the written word, ritual, and traditions can help dispose our heart to receive God, they are not the source of our holiness. The source of holiness is God Himself. God likes to make use of creation to communicate Himself to us; He made everything for the purpose of revealing Himself. Catholics know that it pleases God to make use of water, bread, and wine, to impart His divinity to us. Nevertheless, at root, the principle of our sanctification is God Himself: the gift of Himself to us in our hearts.
The most astonishing truth, worth celebrating every moment of the day and on into eternity, is that God wants to dwell in our hearts. His presence to us could not be more immediate. In such a case, there is no intermediary between Him and us. He is as close to us as our heartbeat.
The experience of God in our hearts comes in many forms. One is the intuition that our life is somehow not our own. We are aware of rights and wrongs. We sense that our life has purpose and that we are meant for something greater than ourselves. We perceive a kind of destiny shaping our life. We sense a greater purpose underlying the things we love, and our relationships.
This intuition is the quiet presence of God in our hearts. He is always there, gently guiding and shaping our choices. We sense that we should turn right or left. We feel drawn to make this or that change. Something makes us feel pain or confusion; this is like an alert from God that we need healing or to make a change.
Although this is a deep mystery, our faith reveals to us that the heart is dead to God in sin from the moment of conception. Our hearts are only healed from sin, one grace at a time. These graces gently nudge us or our caretakers towards the water of baptism, where the seeds of the Holy Trinity are planted in our hearts as a permeant indwelling. These seeds of grace--God's life in us--grow and blossom as we nurture them and grow in virtue. This growth is often painful, as it involves forsaking our sinful habits and reorienting our lives around completely different values. The spiritual battle humbles us, and helps us understand the truth that only God is all good. We can not love ourselves or others in a Godly way unless God capacitates us to do so.
As we persevere in spiritual battle, our heart becomes more and more receptive to God and His holiness. The presence of the Holy Trinity in our hearts grows stronger. It becomes easier to do the good we want to do. With practice, we learn to recognize the voice of God with ever increasing sensitivity. It becomes easier to make choices that please God. We feel more deeply united with God in every aspect of our lives.
Only God knows our destiny. Only He knows how to get us there. Our heart is the privileged place where God speaks to us and reveals our destiny to us, one baby step at a time.
Our ability to discern God's voice starts out very limited, and only grows with grace and time. When we first try, our perception of God's will be imperfect. We are born sinners, after all. However, discernment improves with practice; practice is the only way discernment improves. God summons us to to act on the graces we do have, long before we are fully formed in grace. Ultimately, this is an exercise in trust and surrender. We have to be willing to fail. We must be wiling to venture out into the unknowns God calls us to, completely trusting in Him to care for us.
At first, it will be easier to stay within the guidelines we have inherited from society or our parents, etc. These sources may present us with a formula for life that likely "works," but it may fall short of the unique path God has planned for us. While we should treasure every good thing we inherit from our parents and mentors, there must come a time when we speak to God one-one-one, for ourselves, and not through the prism of inherited structures. Again, to do so, we must be willing to take risks and walk away from what is familiar and comfortable.
This is the Catholic understanding of what it means to "follow the heart."
What does that mean from a Catholic perspective?
The heart is the temple where God dwells. While the written word, ritual, and traditions can help dispose our heart to receive God, they are not the source of our holiness. The source of holiness is God Himself. God likes to make use of creation to communicate Himself to us; He made everything for the purpose of revealing Himself. Catholics know that it pleases God to make use of water, bread, and wine, to impart His divinity to us. Nevertheless, at root, the principle of our sanctification is God Himself: the gift of Himself to us in our hearts.
The most astonishing truth, worth celebrating every moment of the day and on into eternity, is that God wants to dwell in our hearts. His presence to us could not be more immediate. In such a case, there is no intermediary between Him and us. He is as close to us as our heartbeat.
The experience of God in our hearts comes in many forms. One is the intuition that our life is somehow not our own. We are aware of rights and wrongs. We sense that our life has purpose and that we are meant for something greater than ourselves. We perceive a kind of destiny shaping our life. We sense a greater purpose underlying the things we love, and our relationships.
This intuition is the quiet presence of God in our hearts. He is always there, gently guiding and shaping our choices. We sense that we should turn right or left. We feel drawn to make this or that change. Something makes us feel pain or confusion; this is like an alert from God that we need healing or to make a change.
Although this is a deep mystery, our faith reveals to us that the heart is dead to God in sin from the moment of conception. Our hearts are only healed from sin, one grace at a time. These graces gently nudge us or our caretakers towards the water of baptism, where the seeds of the Holy Trinity are planted in our hearts as a permeant indwelling. These seeds of grace--God's life in us--grow and blossom as we nurture them and grow in virtue. This growth is often painful, as it involves forsaking our sinful habits and reorienting our lives around completely different values. The spiritual battle humbles us, and helps us understand the truth that only God is all good. We can not love ourselves or others in a Godly way unless God capacitates us to do so.
As we persevere in spiritual battle, our heart becomes more and more receptive to God and His holiness. The presence of the Holy Trinity in our hearts grows stronger. It becomes easier to do the good we want to do. With practice, we learn to recognize the voice of God with ever increasing sensitivity. It becomes easier to make choices that please God. We feel more deeply united with God in every aspect of our lives.
Only God knows our destiny. Only He knows how to get us there. Our heart is the privileged place where God speaks to us and reveals our destiny to us, one baby step at a time.
Our ability to discern God's voice starts out very limited, and only grows with grace and time. When we first try, our perception of God's will be imperfect. We are born sinners, after all. However, discernment improves with practice; practice is the only way discernment improves. God summons us to to act on the graces we do have, long before we are fully formed in grace. Ultimately, this is an exercise in trust and surrender. We have to be willing to fail. We must be wiling to venture out into the unknowns God calls us to, completely trusting in Him to care for us.
At first, it will be easier to stay within the guidelines we have inherited from society or our parents, etc. These sources may present us with a formula for life that likely "works," but it may fall short of the unique path God has planned for us. While we should treasure every good thing we inherit from our parents and mentors, there must come a time when we speak to God one-one-one, for ourselves, and not through the prism of inherited structures. Again, to do so, we must be willing to take risks and walk away from what is familiar and comfortable.
This is the Catholic understanding of what it means to "follow the heart."
Thursday, October 3, 2019
Meditation ~ Choosing to Heal
I've gone through a lot of challenging things in my personal life for the past few decades. In light of my conversion to Catholicism, I realize that God was permitting me to be brought low enough to listen and receive the gospel. The season of suffering extended even past my baptism, as God wanted me to internalize the wisdom of the cross.
It's been five years post-baptism, and now I sense that God wants me to do something new. I've been opening up my scriptures to verses about redemption and the joyful post-exilic "gathering" of Israel. I've felt God wanting to heal old wounds, grow new skills, and replace an attitude of "just getting by" with thriving. I realize that He wants this not only for my happiness, but because my joy in living gives Him glory.
In a season of suffering, I showed my faith by just hanging in there while persevering in prayer. I realize now that I didn't have to be "happy" per se, because God didn't want me to settle into that place. He just wanted me to keep showing up, do right by others to the best of my ability, and use the trial as an opportunity to meditate on the cross. I needed to make an offering of my life. The suffering had to go on for long enough to make my sacrifice meaningful.
In contrast, during a season of redemption, I have to show faith by learning to actively cultivate my Godly desires. Gone is the comfortable, dark womb of suffering where I wait, and wait. Now, I have to listen and act because God is providing a way out of the pit. Do I climb up the rope, grace upon grace? Climbing towards the light requires me to let go of any residual bitterness; "woe is me" and optimism will not coexist. I have to open my heart and be willing to try again and "receive" others. The walls and scars that were erected as coping mechanisms need to come down. I have to be willing to take risks as God calls me to try something new; or try something old again, in a new way. The familiar and comfortable, however unsatisfying, must give way to the fresh and unknown.
Suffering teaches us invaluable lessons, but it doesn't teach us every spiritual lesson. It can become its own comfortable place, past the point the God wills it for us. Sometimes, we give God the greatest glory by patiently suffering and waiting for Him to change our circumstances. On the other hand, sometimes we give God greater glory by leaving behind old grooves and allowing him to rebuild our lives according to our heart's desire. In a mysterious way, both phases can be equally challenging.
A Biblical truth, perhaps THE Biblical truth, is the idea of redemption. From the Passion narrative, to the stories of Israel, to the lives of individual holy men and women, we see that God in His wisdom permits seasons of suffering for purposes of purification. However, these seasons are never meant to last forever. They are always seed and soil for rebirth. The season of suffering can last for years--decades, in my case--but for those who stay with the Lord, the season will not last forever. Suffering is never an end in itself, but rather a means to our healing from sin and the deepest possible relationship with the Lord. As born sinners, we cannot escape the redemption cycle if we want to achieve a holy, healthy life in union with God. We must pass through this.
"Sing praises to the Lord, O you His saints,
and give thanks to His holy name.
For his anger is but for a moment,
And his favor is for a lifetime.
Weeping may tarry for the night,
But joy comes for the morning."
Psalm 27: 4-5 (ESV)
It's been five years post-baptism, and now I sense that God wants me to do something new. I've been opening up my scriptures to verses about redemption and the joyful post-exilic "gathering" of Israel. I've felt God wanting to heal old wounds, grow new skills, and replace an attitude of "just getting by" with thriving. I realize that He wants this not only for my happiness, but because my joy in living gives Him glory.
In a season of suffering, I showed my faith by just hanging in there while persevering in prayer. I realize now that I didn't have to be "happy" per se, because God didn't want me to settle into that place. He just wanted me to keep showing up, do right by others to the best of my ability, and use the trial as an opportunity to meditate on the cross. I needed to make an offering of my life. The suffering had to go on for long enough to make my sacrifice meaningful.
In contrast, during a season of redemption, I have to show faith by learning to actively cultivate my Godly desires. Gone is the comfortable, dark womb of suffering where I wait, and wait. Now, I have to listen and act because God is providing a way out of the pit. Do I climb up the rope, grace upon grace? Climbing towards the light requires me to let go of any residual bitterness; "woe is me" and optimism will not coexist. I have to open my heart and be willing to try again and "receive" others. The walls and scars that were erected as coping mechanisms need to come down. I have to be willing to take risks as God calls me to try something new; or try something old again, in a new way. The familiar and comfortable, however unsatisfying, must give way to the fresh and unknown.
Suffering teaches us invaluable lessons, but it doesn't teach us every spiritual lesson. It can become its own comfortable place, past the point the God wills it for us. Sometimes, we give God the greatest glory by patiently suffering and waiting for Him to change our circumstances. On the other hand, sometimes we give God greater glory by leaving behind old grooves and allowing him to rebuild our lives according to our heart's desire. In a mysterious way, both phases can be equally challenging.
A Biblical truth, perhaps THE Biblical truth, is the idea of redemption. From the Passion narrative, to the stories of Israel, to the lives of individual holy men and women, we see that God in His wisdom permits seasons of suffering for purposes of purification. However, these seasons are never meant to last forever. They are always seed and soil for rebirth. The season of suffering can last for years--decades, in my case--but for those who stay with the Lord, the season will not last forever. Suffering is never an end in itself, but rather a means to our healing from sin and the deepest possible relationship with the Lord. As born sinners, we cannot escape the redemption cycle if we want to achieve a holy, healthy life in union with God. We must pass through this.
"Sing praises to the Lord, O you His saints,
and give thanks to His holy name.
For his anger is but for a moment,
And his favor is for a lifetime.
Weeping may tarry for the night,
But joy comes for the morning."
Psalm 27: 4-5 (ESV)
Tuesday, October 1, 2019
Meditation ~ What Does it Really Mean to Be Good?
Too often in American culture, passion is pitted against discipline. At best, the two forces are allowed to cautiously coexist. Perhaps this tension gave birth to rock n' roll and the '60s counter culture; when people feel like they have to choose one or the other, they are more likely to throw out the "establishment" and go "all in" on their desires.
To continue the flawed narrative, the heart is understood as desiring fun and pleasure only. Discipline, family values, and work are seen as weak concessions to our need for comfort and stability. The brave and honest souls--those who live fully from the heart--forgo society with all of its helps. They never sell out by settling down.
Since most of us choose to opt in to society, we alternatively run the risk of exclusively validating responsibility and structure. We may insist that mature adults are those who forgo their desires for fun, risk, and creative fulfillment. Desire has nothing to do with "the real world." Our worth is only tied to a pay check, a mortgage, and how esteemed we are by our community.
Both interpretations reduce the human heart to less, not more.
What if being made in the image of God means that we rightly want all of it?
What if fun, adventure, creative fulfillment, structure, family, and social responsibility are all appealing when we are open to all of the goods God has created?
What if God Himself is fun, adventurous, creative, structured, familial, and socially responsible? (Of course He is.) If so, then we would be lop-sided, underdeveloped human beings if we didn't at least try to cultivate the wide-range of qualities that He possesses.
As Pope Benedict VI explained in his encyclical "Deus caritas est," God is both eros and agape; both facets of love are holy. Apart from eros, life looses zest and flavor. Apart from agape, we are unable to care for those we love and life spirals out of control. We can't be fully holy when we are alienated from one or the other.
Admittedly, it can be hard to "visualize" how all the goods can coexist, especially since Godly living involves making choices and sacrifices. Perhaps this is when we need to set aside our heads, and let our hearts, guided by the Spirit, lead out. We are called to be holy, to image the love and life of God. That is something mysterious, but we are given a supreme gift: God Himself, dwelling in our Hearts. Surely this is the reason why God did away with the old Mosaic Law and replaced it with the Law of the Spirit, poured into us at baptism. A legal code fixed on a page in human language could never express the depth, breadth, and mystery of God's life, which we are called to share in (here and now!) God wants us to successfully integrate eros and agape just as He does; He will help us.
We must allow ourselves to be guided. We can and should be thoughtful and intentional along the way. Intelligence is a useful tool that allows us to make and execute plans. Intelligence allows us to converse with and follow the Holy Spirit when He speaks. The Holy Spirit works best when our intelligence is as fully formed as possible; He can and will prompt us to study, question, and get answers to many of our questions. However, we must know the limitations of what our intelligence can accomplish. There are some answers we can never have this side of Heaven. God--who perfectly unites all seeming contradictions in Himself--is a mystery to us. As Paul said, at present, we see Him only dimly reflected in the world around us. For this reason, we struggle to reconcile all kinds of opposites, including justice and mercy, structure and freedom. We think the puzzle pieces don't fit; in frustration, we try to square the circles. In those moments, we need to just stop and experience God in our hearts, past the point of understanding.
We keep "looking" for God in this world. To do so is the essence of idolatry. One form of idolatry is trying to "visualize" exactly what a Godly life looks like, in the sense of a cookie-cutter cultural expression. Stereotypes about who is holy and who is not, is a form of idolatry. We can even create idols out of ourselves when we rigidly adhere to a fixed idea of who we think we should be. These idols enslave us and prohibit our growth in the Holy Spirit. The Holy Spirit might want us to turn right or left, but we won't be open to it.
Creation in all of its forms, (art, nature, relationships, activities) are all helps in forming our relationship with God. But past a certain point, we need to firmly locate "the good life" and the successfully integrated life, with an experience of God in our hearts. God is not to be found in one particular lifestyle, achievement, experience, relationship, or activity. These things can point us to God, but they can never be the be-all-end-all. In truth, we can not *see* our be-all-end-all, for God is pure Spirit. We can only experience our be-all-end-all.
The next time we catch ourselves day dreaming, we need to pause. Are we dreaming of something because God is inspiring us to move in a particular direction, or are we imagining a particular thing, as if it will give us infinite happiness? Is our idea of definitive happiness in any way a "fixed" temporal thing? If so, we are committing idolatry and missing out on the fullness of happiness that God offers us. God can not be imaged in His totality. He can only be experienced. Even in Heaven, we will never see God the Father with our physical eyeballs. He is pure Spirit. We must learn to thirst for, and abide in, His Spirit.
With God, all things are possible, including a successfully integrated life. God will help us know the proper time and place for all things. It is possible to have fun and to be responsible. There is a sense in which it is possible to "have it all," in so far as it is possible to possess God, who is All. If we seek first the Kingdom of Heaven, all the rest will fall into place.
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