Holy Thursday Morning, Mourning

My men’s group listened to Fr. John Riccardo speak of creation as being an expression of God’s love.  He quoted Genesis and how God created the earth and sun and the moon, and then, almost as an “oh, by the way,” he created the stars.  Fr. Riccardo then described the number of stars as like a block of sand grains, file miles high and five miles wide, an enormity of number of sand grains beyond awesome to consider.  And then, beyond all this vastness of the universe, God created man, something described as even more magnificent, for he was created in God’s image.

The talk was paused at that point, and the men present at our table were asked to discuss how we picture God, our mind’s image of Him.  Some of the men mentioned a man, a loving Father image.  One mentioned God’s Spirit, present everywhere, who he could speak to.  And one couldn’t help himself, and blurted out that he couldn’t imagine a perfect God: “If man is the best of His creation, why didn’t He create a man, in His image, who couldn’t choose the forbidden tree?  I don’t understand.”

There was some discussion then of what freedom means, and how true love --- a God-like love --- requires freedom.  If man were created in a perfect world in which no evil could enter, he would relish that perfect place and God’s love, but he could never begin to love as God loved, because God’s love is freely given.  If man were created like an animal in a zoo, he might be content with his surroundings and the zookeeper, but until he knew of the world outside the zoo he could not truly choose the zoo and the zookeeper, nor really love him.  Our knowing pain and death and fear are like our knowing what’s outside the zoo, it gives us a perspective so we can value God’s love for us, and choose to love Him in return.  Love is a choice freely given.  This discussion among the men was interesting, but then it quieted, so I spoke of how I perceive God.

I sometimes perceive God as being an artist.  A true artist cannot stop himself, and his desire to create an expression of himself and the beauty he feels.  A true artist doesn’t create for money or for recognition.  Describing his work, an artist often says: “That’s who I am.”  I perceive God and His creation in that way, in the immenseness of His creation, the beauty of His creation, the love which He put into His creation.  It is who He is.  And yet, despite all He put into His creation, even His best creation --- man --- yet, His creation was not God, but only an image of Him.  He didn’t create another God (although some men perceive themselves that way.).  Then the image of man blurred from God’s original creation, when man chose sin, because sin is not part of an image of God.

God became man to show man all that life and love could be.  He showed man what freedom really was and how choices for short-term happiness on earth often lead to suffering on earth.  Even God, as man, suffered.  But God also showed man how well-chosen and accepted --- as part of God’s plans, not man’s --- joys and sufferings can result in a new, perfect, eternal life, a life even beyond God’s original creation.  Through Jesus, man could move beyond merely being an image of God, but could be united to God in eternity.  That is the lesson, that is the door, which was opened by Jesus.

It was the Artist saying: “That’s who I am, and you can be too.”  No artist could express His love, His Being, more.  And so, we can be sad at all the pains and sufferings of this life.  We can mourn this life, but all our tears shall be turned into joy.

Holy Thursday morning and reflections on the mournings in front of us this week may make us sad, but remembering why, and trusting in the Resurrection, should turn our mourning into joy.

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Poetry is another expression of an artist, and has its own unique beauty.  This morning I read these hymns at the start of my morning Readings and Prayers, and found them most beautiful reminders of the above reflections on what this week is about:

Opening Hymn

O God, our help in ages past,
Our hope for years to come,
Our shelter from the stormy blast
And our eternal home.

Beneath the shadow of your throne
Your saints have dwelt secure;
Sufficient is your arm alone,
And our defense is sure.

Before the hills in order stood,
Or earth received her frame,
From everlasting you are God,
To endless years the same.

A thousand ages in your sight
Are like an evening gone,
Short as the watch that ends the night
Before the rising sun.

Time, like an ever-rolling stream,
Bears all its sons away;
They fly forgotten as a dream
Dies at the opening day.

O God, our help in ages past
Our hope for years to come,
Be now our guide while life shall last,
And our eternal home.

Morning Hymn

O God of light, the dawning day
Gives us new promise of your love.
Each fresh beginning is your gift,
Like gentle dew from heav’n above.

Your blessings, Father, never fail:
Your Son, who is our daily Bread,
The Holy Spirit of your love,
By whom each day your sons are led.

Make us the servants of your peace,
Renew our strength, remove all fear;
Be with us, Lord, throughout this day,
For all is joy if you are near.

To Father, Son, and Spirit blest,
One only God, we humbly pray:
Show us the splendor of your light
In death, the dawn of perfect day.