At some level, the desire (eros) for God is built in at the base, the foundation, of human existence. As the famous Augustine quote puts it, ‘Our hearts are restless until they rest in thee.’ (Confessions 1.1.1) Yet so often, our hearts are still restless, aren’t they?
I mean, it’s all well and good to read the hesychasts and hermits who engage in a lot of omphaloskepsis (navel-gazing) and find God in their cell, in birdsong, in the sound of silence, in a still, small voice. But some days, we aren’t all that interested in God, even at (sometimes especially at) festal seasons.
It’s hard to reach for the invisible God, much easier to rest in the visible and tangible — in house, hearth, home, family, spouse. In good food, good art, good music, and so forth. To enjoy these gifts with nary a thought for the Giver.
This past Sunday our church hosted its annual Carol Service. The opening song was something relatively new, probably from the last couple of years.* I don’t actually know which song it was or who it was by or, frankly, any details. But it spoke of the romance God has for us. That, unlike any of the gods, unlike the great men and women of this worldly existence, he gave up everything for us. For you.
Silly, sinful me. Who has so much trouble resting in the peace of God.
If you believe the Bible, and believe God is true, words such as these, whether in story or song, in Scripture or Sacrament, are part of how we join with God. We recall the verse, 1 John 4:19 — We love him because he first loved us.
Simply reminding ourselves of these eternal truths in the midst of this temporal life can help us burn with greater love for God. The good liturgies do that — the truth of God’s love and sacrifice for us is blazoned across the Book of Common Prayer. The Scriptures do that — they are primarily the story of God’s love and sacrifice for us, from Creation to the Cross to the Rider on the White Horse. The creeds do that, the great hymns do that, the worthy artwork does that.
Remind yourself of this love God has for us.
Today is one of the ancient Ember Days of Advent. Take this solemn fast to feast on God’s love for you. It is a delightful and certain means for quickening your own love for Him. And next week is Christmas — listen attentively to the Scriptures, to Luke 2, to Matthew 2, to John 1. Revel in their truths, remembering that angels and shepherds and Magi are not fairtytales (although fairytales can carry extraordinary truths within them) but Truth.
And then delight in the God Who first loved you. Rejoice that love came down at Christmas.
*Unlike a friend of mine, I don’t count Beethoven as ‘too modern’. New is new.