Twenty-Second Sunday of Ordinary Time
In college, I found myself befriending a group of musicians, and not being a musician myself, I often let them dictate the songs we listened to. Sometimes I would listen and sing along, other times I didn’t really get the appeal, and in rare moments I found myself growing incredibly emotional to the sound of my own heart being played in a melody. One of these songs is called Touching Heaven, a beautiful song about family love, but with lyrics that I find perfectly apply to our Catholic faith:
“If touching love is touching God / No wonder I’m in heaven, when I’m holding you”
As I reflect on this Sunday’s readings, I’m reminded of the lyrics of this song and the reality of the Eucharist. I hear the first reading and genuinely ask myself, “What nation is there that has gods so close to it as the Lord, our God, is to us?” And the answer is none. As Catholics, we have the unique opportunity to touch and feel God, to consume our God, to have Him physically and spiritually within us. This is a peculiar intimacy, a closeness that even yet isn’t close enough for our God.
In the Gospel, Jesus changes the conversation. Yes, we know that God is close to us, but how close are we to God? How often have you stood in front of the Blessed Sacrament and accused God of being far off? Personally, I could say too often. And yet, how many times have I searched my own heart for that distance? Not in a while. The chorus of Touching Heaven goes on:
“I won’t be holding my breath for chariots / I’m not just waiting for skies to part / You’ve been my glimpse of Kingdom right from the start”
The closeness of God is not determined by visions and dreams. It’s not always felt in a forceful wind or a gentle hug. It’s just a truth we need to live in. Otherwise, we could be waiting a long time to see the closeness of God, long enough that our own hearts might be too distant to recognize Him. I’m reminded of these lyrics and my college aged faith that believed them with all my heart.
In college, I went to confession every Wednesday. At first, it was only to accompany my friends, but I started to notice that my heart had a natural tendency to believe lies and I couldn’t stop going back to the chapel. Every Wednesday night, I looked over the Examination of Conscience and every Wednesday, there seemed to be more that I had to say and more distance my heart had moved away from God. Despite this seemingly despairing path I was on, I knew I had never been closer to Him and the insatiable longing to be closer only grew. Every step I took away from Him was two steps closer He took to me. I realize that logically that can’t make sense, but it begs the question, how far has our God gone to pursue you? Something we can only know in being honest about where our hearts truly are.