Last evening my husband and I watched the third episode of “Catholicism.” About the mystery of God, it was a perfect match for this chapter of the USCCA. Fr Robert Barron spoke (more than once in different ways) about how we can’t get our head around God, can’t fully describe God, and just when we might be tempted to think “now I get it” just then we know we really don’t. That caused me to pause and search my heart, after all I am writing here with FTF as though there is something that I understand, that I get. How can I write with any confidence if God is such a mystery? Am I deceiving myself and/or just arrogant? Just what am I confident about?
I kept watching and later continued to ponder and pray. The image of Moses catching a glimpse of God while hidden safely in the cleft of the rock continued in my mind’s eye. Picturing myself there, in the cleft, I realized that any confidence I have is sheer grace, the faith described in the last chapter, a gift. And that it doesn’t suggest that I think I get it, rather, it is comfort with living in the mystery, and gratitude for the glimpses that come along, across a lifetime, in different ways, sometimes sought out through study, sometimes stumbled upon.
For me, in the midst of all the mystery of this triune God, bridging the transcendence and imminence of God, is simply: 1) the faith that God is Creator (even though the “how” is way beyond my grasp) and 2) that he intends my good (even if it is in a picture far bigger than myself and is a weaving together of lives with different needs and responses to God’s gifts, including those times when my own responses are unfaithful).
In the humanity of Jesus God comes better into focus. But at the same time, growing into the mystery of God brings to my image of Jesus more awareness that while I can comfortably talk with him as a friend, this friend is not a buddy, but the God of creation, of things seen and unseen, and is due all of who I am. He is due all honor, glory, and praise… And, the great wonder is that whereas Moses was safe in God’s presence in the cleft of a rock, I rest safely in the arms of his love. (Laurie E.)