God: hidden in plain sight
(A theological reflection on the search for God, in two parts)
Part 1: Don’t push; finding God is easy – once we understand how to see
This is perhaps the most difficult task of all – for all humanity, and certainly for me. It is like trying to see behind your own mind; we spend our entire lives looking outwards from our consciousness, while, behind our eyes, our own minds are a mystery to us. We can become aware of so much, but we can never turn our eyes inwards to examine in precise detail the person that we are behind the façade of our own outlook on the world.
The task that is more than difficult – it is impossible – is to see God as he fully is. We catch the faintest glimpse of him at the corner of our eye but when we turn to try and see him, he is gone. So many events in the life of the world speak to us of him – sometimes with great revelatory power; yes, they speak of him, but him we do not see. We can focus our minds, and with patience, in stillness and in trust, the muddy waters settle, and we can see deeper into the depths, and then, indeed, truth rises to the surface and enfolds us. And in his grace, gifts of insight, the assurance of his love, being enfolded in his presence: these things are given to us. Yet still we have mere intimations of who he is.
I have pushed hard against the darkness of unknowing within my own mind, trying to force a way through a barrier that I perceive is there and which I know is impenetrable. And I understand, it is not like a person, wilfully blindfolded, but who may one day free themselves from their shackles in order to rip it from their eyes and at last see; rather it is like a person born blind who understands that there is such a thing that others call “sight” but which he will never experience, and can only guess at what such a thing might be. Yet still, for the person born blind and for me who can see, but not see, there is still the voice that calls and guides, and, if followed, we do not stumble, but follow the path that brings us closer and deeper into the voice, though still always in the dark.
By his grace, I have also learnt not to push against the darkness. Not to panic or to fear or to desire for light. For the darkness is not a shroud, a separating veil; the darkness is the way that he presents himself. The darkness is the only way that I, with my mind, can take in that he is here with me. There are, of course, the deep truths that I need the darkness in order not to mistake anything that I can see for the reality of God, and that, like looking at the sun, if he revealed the fullness of his presence, I would be blinded. Yet, even beyond this, the darkness has a substance to it – perhaps like a mould into which pure gold will be poured; we can see the empty mould, but only guess at what the object will look like when the gold has been poured in, solidified, and then the mould removed, to reveal what we really want. So, the darkness holds the reality of God; it is not hiding him from us; it is the way he comes to us.
Spiritual Devotion 