Lectio
“The soul does everything that it can; it gives thanks and praises to love; it acts and it works for love, it surrenders its whole self for love, and all its works are perfected for love. But none of this gives the soul any rest, and it is a great torment to long for what it cannot attain.”
— Beatrice of Nazareth, The Little Book of Christian Mysticism, ed. Carl McColman
Meditatio
Our physical needs for food, clothing, and shelter drive us to work in order to survive. Of course, there are internal factors that motivate us as well. The desire for wealth, property, and power can become their own kind of compulsion — a hunger that, unlike the body’s, which can be temporarily sated, is never truly filled.
This is because our desires, whether or not we recognize them as such, are always spiritual. Our longings come from our soul’s yearning for God, but we may not know this; we may deny it, or we may outright reject it. And yet, what our soul craves, that we attempt to satisfy with all manner of thing, relationship, and accomplishment — all manner of not-God — is infinite union with infinite God. But even if our hearts, minds, and labors are pointed entirely in this direction, we are powerless to achieve divine union on our own. The very thing for which our souls most long is beyond our reach and outside our control.
Thus our souls, made for God, remain restless, as St. Augustine says, unless and until they can rest in God. But this rest is the gift of grace alone, not our good thoughts, words, or works. As such, it must be accepted and received, not demanded or taken. Like Aaron and the Hebrews in the valley of Mount Sinai, we are invited to wait for the Word of the Lord. But in our waiting, in our restlessness and impatience for the slow work of God, we form false idols out of what we can see, hear, taste, and touch. We reach for golden calves of our own making rather than trusting that God will meet us in his time.
And so the Lord calls us to rest in him. To lay our burdens upon him and to make time for stillness within which he can demonstrate his love and faithfulness. So that he can help us bear the cross of our suffering and the yoke of our longing — and the forsakenness of our powerlessness to commune with God without God.
But even through Christ, we are not promised eternal divine union in this life. We are not promised that our longing will be satisfied, that our suffering will be relieved, or that the darkness of our forsakenness will be lifted this side of heaven. We may be given graced glimpses into the horizon, a brief lifting of the veil, a momentary parting of the cloud between us and God, a taste of heaven. But as quickly as these moments arrive, they flee from our face, tormenting us in their absence, leaving us craving their return and reaching for the unattainable presence of a Love that is so near we cannot see it and so far away we cannot stop chasing it, even as we try to find it in all of the not-God places that will never take us where we want to go.
Oratio
this longing
unfulfilled
but for brief moments
in a whisper
a song
a smile
a tear
you reveal
your hidden face
if only
if only
and you will
but not now
not here
not yet
Contemplatio
What are the “not-God places” you return to most often when the longing becomes too much to bear?
Related Scripture
“Come to me, all you that are weary and are carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me; for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.” — Matthew 11:28-30 (NRSVCE)
For Further Reading
If you enjoyed this post, you may also like Not Saying No: Surrendering To Our Soul’s Longing For Reunion With God, which explores the same ache for divine union from the angle of surrender — and those rare, grace-filled moments when the illusion of separation dissolves just long enough that we know.
Robert Van Valkenburgh
Grappling With Divinity.
Wrestling With God.
Returning To Love.
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