May 4, 2020
Reflection: If we can’t “see” the Divine, how to we know the Divine is there?
I had a realization a number of years ago, while writing a homily for an elderly man who died of cancer. He loved soccer. At the time, he had all the right equipment, we take for granted now, to stream live soccer events from around the world.
He was a kind, unassuming man. When he was well, he quietly went about helping people, or assisting with activities at the church. No fanfare. His faith was similar. As an Anglican Christian, his faith was between himself and God. No fanfare. No exclamations. Just him and God, going about their day.
A thought occurred to me. A soccer ball. Twelve black pentagons and twenty white hexagons, inflated between 8.5 psi and 15.6 psi, travels down the field, courtesy of the kicks and bumps of players. You can’t see the air inside it. You can only see the effect as players pass and redirect the ball, hoping to score a goal at the other end of the field.
We can’t see God, but we can see the effect of God working in the world.
My apartment faces north and east. Although I see beautiful sunrises, I can’t see the setting sun. I can, however, see the effect of the setting sun on the buildings outside our living room windows.
So it is with faith. So also, with what we understand to be God. We can’t see God.
We can only see the effect of God’s love and grace at work among us.
I looked up from my computer last evening, May 3 and saw this: