theROCK

Unique Images of God

I have spent much of the late summer fascinated by the images coming from NASA’s new James Webb Space Telescope. For many science-y reasons I can’t explain, it is a groundbreaking telescope able to capture images of space previously unobservable to us. The clarity and definition of the images are breathtaking. The photos look like paintings. They are artwork. God’s artwork painted in the universe.

I have spent a great deal of time viewing the images and marveling at the wonders they reveal. And always, this marveling has led me to praise of God. Marveling at the Creator of all these wonders. To think that our God created all of that. To think how beautiful, how expansive, how immense the universe, and our God created it all. Oh, what a God we have!

In the midst of this praise and wonder, there is always a soft echo in my heart: “And even with all these wonders, I still thought it necessary to create you, my dear Claire.” “Even with all these wonders, my creation would not have been complete without you to love and cherish.” 

Oh what a God we have! To have created the entire expanse of the universe, an expanse infinite in its depths, and still deem it incomplete without me. To create planets and solar systems and entire galaxies and nebulae and still think little ol’ me, in all my flaws and weaknesses and imperfections, was necessary, was desirable, was lovable. To think, God’s creation wasn’t complete without me.

You were necessary. You were desired. The created world was incomplete to God without you in it.

This is true of me.
This is true of you.
This is true of every single person on this earth.

From the baby in a mother’s womb, to the homeless person wandering the street, to the incarcerated, to the politically or religiously opposite, to the President, to the toddler coloring all over your home, to the difficult person at work, to the person who cut you off in the drop-off line, to the person slowly taking their last breath. Creation was incomplete without every one of these people.

Unique images of God, as diverse and unique as the stars in the universe, every one of them.

May we marvel at the necessity and desirability of ourselves. May we wonder at the necessity and desirability of every person we encounter. Truly we are each a greater marvel than the entire expanse of the universe.

Holy Spirit Wake Up Calls

My typing skills are best described as somewhat unique. While better than a two-fingered hunt and peck approach, they are far from being a trained skill. I honed it while entering data on a laptop in a parked car with the steering wheel in the way so you can imagine the challenge of the awkward position. The red spell check highlights quickly became my friend.

Today, I type on a couple laptops, keyboards, tablets, and phone and try to begin messages with a salutation. Sometimes a hi or hello, but usually a good morning/afternoon/evening. Oftentimes “good” shows up as “God.” While it might be my lack of typing prowess or sticky keys, I tend to view this as a wake-up call from the Holy Spirit. He is saying to me that it might be a “good” morning, but it is always a GOD morning. When I catch this “error” it seems I am being asked many questions such as:

How am I serving God today?

Have I taken time to see the beauty in the day?

Will I actively live my faith today?

Who will I encounter who might not be having a good day and really needs a God day? Will I seize the opportunity and engage this person? Will I actually serve God and “become Christ” like our mission calls?

This nudge has been occurring for years on countless devices. I type the same way. Why today? What does God want me to realize today? Sometimes I get it, and candidly, many times I struggle. Each and every time it makes me think. It’s a simple queue to make me pause and remember that I am, and we are, here to serve God in all that we do, and in every interaction. God blesses us and gives each of us our unique gifts. What do we do with these blessings?

Poor typing skills makes me stop and ponder. What makes you think about God?

Holy Water

During Advent, Fr. Timothy Schumaker shared reflections on some of the signs, symbols and gestures of our Catholic faith to remind us why we do these things so that we can bring more intentionality when we do them.

To begin, I thought I would comment on the very first thing we do when we walk into church - blessing ourselves with Holy Water. We probably don’t’ even think about it anymore because we are so used to it. 

The first and main reason is because it reminds us of our Baptism. Reminds us that we are children of God, saved by his grace and a member of his Church, we literally sign ourselves with the water which made us so at our baptism.

This makes for a beautiful moment, because the very first thing we do upon entering a church is to affirm our identity: Children of God. Whenever we walk into the church, dip our hand in the water and make the sign of the cross we are affirming who we are, we do not enter the church as guests or strangers, we enter as beloved sons and daughters, we enter into our home.

In addition, this act contains the bookends of how Christ has saved us, we use holy water, which reminds us of Jesus’ Baptism his first act salvation and then we make the sign of the cross, the cross that marked the last act of salvation by Jesus. In that one act we are remembering the beginning and end of how Jesus rescues us. It expresses the history of salvation.

Finally, since we do this at the entrance of the church, it marks a moment of transition. When we are leaving the secular and entering the sacred. This very space is called the sanctuary, a place where the anxieties and evils of the world have no power. And so by blessing ourselves with Holy Water it is an opportunity to consciously leave all that worries us outside. So that this sanctuary will be a place of rest, peace, renewal and encounter with God.

In conclusion the reason we sign ourselves with holy water is because it reminds us of our identity as son and daughters through Baptism, expresses salvation history and marks our transition from the secular to the sacred.