“I Am with you always . . .”  Jesus

“We ask the very First Beginning to open our eyes through the ineffable peace of Christ.”  St. Bonaventure

Greg was dying.  He had a rare disease that was slowly eating away at his brain and body.  There was no cure.  And so, Greg decided, after a great deal of prayer, contemplation, and conversation, to voluntarily suspend his intake of food and water.  I was privileged to walk with him through the last months, weeks, and days of his life.  We had many conversations about things that really matter in life, and death.  One word that he kept returning to was “ineffable.”  He was anxious to enter into the ineffable presence of God.  So, when I read the above quote by Bonaventure, I thought of Greg.  Here is the rest of the quote.

“How can our souls dialogue with God?  St. Francis prayed long hours in solitary places. One day as he prayed, he saw an angel and Christ, and an awesome love melted his heart.  He watched the seraph fly down from heaven on its six fiery wings, and suddenly he saw the man of God, crucified, there in the middle of is shining wings.  This vision awed St. Frances, making him feel sad, thankful, and amazed, and it teaches us today that the mirror of contemplative prayer can reveal God to us.  So, to live a godly life, always pray.  When reading, ask God for inspiration.  When questioning, ask God to help you stay loyal to him.  When exploring the earth’s wonders, ask God to help you cherish this mystery.  When you work, ask for grace.  When you study, ask God to teach you how to love.  When you gain understanding, pray, ‘God, keep me humble.’ If we fall on our knees, we can give God our helplessness and failures.  Offer the one who loves you your shame.”

God was present with Greg in his death, and Greg came to experience God in a profound and personal way.  And yes, I’m convinced he experienced in his death the ineffable presence of God. 

But it need not take death to enter into the awareness of God’s presence.  Bonaventure speaks of the practice of contemplation as a means to be more in tune with God’s presence.  God is all around us.  God is within us.  And God is waiting for us . . .  and wanting to reveal his presence to us. 

This presence of God was brought home to me recently as I listened to the daughter of a good friend describe her experience of sitting with her father during his dying days.  At one point she was aware that “someone” had entered the room with them.  “It was so real, so palpable,” she recounted, “that I turned away from looking at dad to see the other person that was with us.”  She didn’t see anything, but she knew, just knew, that Jesus or an angel was with them.  Her father died not long after.

To be in the presence of God is the greatest gift.  To be aware of that presence now is also a great gift.  While it can’t be manipulated or manufactured, one can intentionally open oneself up to that presence.  Consider what Anselm says:

“Stop whatever you are doing.  Go to a room where you can be all by yourself and close the door.  Enter the inner sanctum of your soul.  Do not worry there.  Do not think about all the things you have to do.  Speak to your Creator, saying, ‘Your face, Lord, do I seek.’  In that private space turn to Jesus.”

Greg had never been especially “religious”, but in his last months, maybe years, he sought the face of Jesus.  In so doing Greg became a mystic.  That is, he began to grasp and aspire to a greater knowing of God.  He desired to experience the mystery of God.  He longed to be in the presence of God.  It is a longing we all have, and that we can experience now.

“On the darkest night, I risked everything for love. 

No one saw me, and I saw no one, quiet reigning. 

I escaped down a hidden ladder at night.

I left my house when all was still, my way lit only by my yearning. 

The night was sweet, and nothing could show my way through the darkness, except the inner light of prayer shining brighter than the noonday sun,

guiding me until I found myself in the loneliest place, where the One I love waited for me.

I know him well.”  –St. John of the Cross.