Lectio
“Bathe yourself in the ocean of matter; plunge into it where it is deepest and most violent; struggle in its currents and drink of its waters. For it cradled you long ago in your preconscious existence; and it is that ocean that will raise you up to God.”
— Teilhard de Chardin, Activation of Energy
Meditatio
Life is meant to be lived, and to be lived fully. We were not created for safety or security, but for giving the entirety of our beings to this strange existence of pleasure and pain, joy and suffering, ecstasy and tragedy. We were created to lean into creation, to dive into experience, and to give ourselves in love to God and neighbor until there is nothing left of the matter we embody but the dust to which we shall return and the memories that live on in those we have moved through our movements — whom our matter has touched.
We are reluctant to dive in, however, because we are afraid. We withdraw from our bodies and into our imaginations, recalling all of our past pain, embarrassment, and frustration, and projecting these into a future of more of the same if we do not proceed cautiously and with restraint.
But like Christ, we are not promised protection from this world. Even a life of love — especially a life of love — will not be without pain, embarrassment, or frustration. The promise of love is that we will feel it all — every beautiful and terrible thing, unfiltered and unabated — held not by protection from pain, but by a peace that does not depend on anything, for it is rather the peace upon which everything depends.
Love, after all, leads to the cross, even if the cross is not our final destination.
Let us not, then, pursue an easy life. Let us not hide from that which frightens or confuses us. Let us not spend our time here as embodied beings believing that the matter we embody is merely a temporary evil to be transcended or overcome, but rather the joyous and agonizing gift of a God who is always becoming.
While we are here, let us bathe in this ocean of matter, struggle in its currents, and drink of its waters — even if we are terrified, even if it hurts, even if we may drown — for the ocean of matter is the becoming of the God from whom we were formed and to whom we will return. And the ocean does not swallow us forever. It returns us.
Oratio
God, I know you cannot promise me an easy life —
a life with no obstacles, difficulties, or tragedies.
The cross teaches us that even you suffer,
that to love is to suffer.
So I ask you to please give me the strength, peace, and wisdom
to meet obstacles with faith,
to face difficulties with grace,
to move through tragedies with love.
And when the currents of life drag me under,
draw me back into your love.
Amen.
Contemplatio
Where in your life are you seeking protection from pain rather than the peace that sustains you through it?
Related Scripture
“Where can I go from your spirit? Or where can I flee from your presence? If I ascend to heaven, you are there; if I make my bed in Sheol, you are there.”
— Psalm 139:7–8 (NRSVCE)
For Further Reading
If you enjoyed this post, you may also like Where Light Enters: The Wounds of Christ and the Wounds We Carry, which explores how our suffering connects us to the wounded, risen Christ — and how grace enters the world through the very places we are broken open.
Robert Van Valkenburgh
Grappling With Divinity.
Wrestling With God.
Returning To Love.
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