It is not knowledge that opens the gates of heaven but love, as an ancient saying has it. Our world changes if we discover the central place of love. Through love nature looks different, relationships deepen, God becomes close, unexpected things can happen. Many new perspectives open up when we approach God as the source of love who is “within”.
Perhaps there is no word in our language that carries as many associations in our mind as “love”. At times its use is sloppy, sentimental, casual, if not tasteless. More often than not it strikes a tender chord in us. We may know from the care of our parents how unselfish love can be. We may have experienced the unspeakable thrill of “being in love”, of having found a partner whose concern moves us, whose touch transforms us and whose intimate sharing frees us from the pain of loneliness. Perhaps we know real love in the form of strong and lasting friendships the support our friends give us, their readiness to stand by us in time of trouble; their generosity in putting up with our failings, in not letting us down. Instinctively we know that such experiences of love are high points in our life—realities that afford most meaning and give us the greatest happiness.
I realize full well that our human relationships are based on our innate need of “bonding” — a need articulated in millions of years of evolution. Our animal nature requires it. Parents and children bond. Man and wife bond. Members of the clan bond. Our chemistry, our psychology, our thinking are geared to bonding. The fact remains that love itself, which is based on such bonding and grows from it, goes much beyond it. We love not only a beautiful partner, but beauty as such. We love a true friend, but also truth in itself. As Plato pointed out more than two thousand years ago, human “eros” knows no limits. Its quest reaches out to infinity. It will never be fully satisfied with partial fulfilment. Is this not a remarkable finding — which we can verify in ourselves?
Where does this mighty impulse, this unquenchable thirst in us, come from? It can only be God. God is the irrepressible energy of being and life that caused the universe to explode at the Big Bang. That energy made space expand and matter evolve, until life erupted and intelligence was born. In the personality of every human individual it is God who puts the stamp of his uniqueness, his unrepeatability. In the search for happiness, in the joy of growth, in the intimacy of togetherness he creates the thrill, the satisfaction, the embrace.
The world in which we live is not a huge engine whose blueprint has been discovered by science. The world is much more mysterious; and it is full of divine love and purpose.
Why should I a stranger be
in my Father's dwelling,
while hill and river, rock and tree of his love are telling?
Always heard their simple voice bidding child-like hearts rejoice,
whisper us his love is near. (Joseph Gostick)
The wonder of it all is that while nature follows its laws as unravelled by science, it carries a message that points beyond itself. Everything shows the face of God in some form or measure. The colours we see not only help us survive in a competitive world, they raise our mind to magnificence and splendour. When we admire the riotous glow of a rainbow or the soft hues of sapphire, purple and orange in a distant galaxy, do we not see beyond them the exuberant imagination that made them happen?
When we think about God, the source of all that exists the Self from which we ourselves and the universe spring words fall short, only images remain. Since we ourselves are persons, people who can know and love, we can meaningfully apply to God the image of “person”. For even though his knowing and willing infinitely transcends ours, we know that he must possess these qualities at least to the degree in which we possess them. How otherwise could he shape our personality by imprinting his own likeness on us? How could he lack intelligence if he produces mind in us? How could he be without love, if his energy emerges as love in us? It is not enough, therefore, to think of him as an inanimate life force. We must give him a “face” in our thought. We can address him as a Father, a Mother, a Friend, as our deepest Self — remembering all the time that these are just human images expressing too little and saying it clumsily.
Our conscience is another way in which God, who is love, manifests his presence in us. Whether we like it or not, we know in our deepest self that right is right and wrong is wrong. We cannot, without destroying ourselves, go against the judgement of our own inner tribunal. The more sensitive we are to its dictates, and the more we shape our lives in conformity with truth and love, the happier we will be. We realize that this sense of responsibility again reflects in us the presence of a Person. How could we feel guilty to a nameless life force? How could we feel rewarded if not by the approval of Someone who knows and cares? Does the response of our heart not prove our deep awareness of scrutiny by a Person — our Self about whose verdict we greatly care?
Prayer is something very personal. It cannot be tied down to specific practices or formulas. Prayer means no more than a conscious reaching out to the reality of God. There are times when our awareness of him is nurtured best by silence; by reflecting on ourselves, on nature, on events that happened. There are other times when it helps us to talk to God. This is not silly, even though our words will be so inadequate. Speaking is a natural human response. If we have never prayed in this fashion, we may need to cross the threshold by saying: “God, I'm searching for you”. “God, make me know you're here.” “God, help me to pray.” “God, source of all love in me, I love you. I'm trying to love you.” The words need not be beautiful, or long, or traditional. They should express what we feel. He will respond in his own way; unmistakably so if we learn to discern his working in our heart.
Having established contact with God, realizing that he is the source of love, other unexpected things may happen. We may suddenly find that certain aspects of life which baffle us—such as pain, sorrow, sickness, death—may have a meaning after all. Was evolution—in spite of its process of decays and new starts, of the survival of the fittest — the best way to make us become the autonomous persons we are now? Are pain and sorrow not tools to help us cope, rather than instruments of torture? Is our ability to sin not inherent in that greatest asset, our human freedom? If it is not health, prosperity and long life that are the highest values but love—are we missing out on a superior logic?
And what if God took the astounding initiative of expressing his mind more directly to us? What if he began to communicate himself in unprecedented closeness? Who are we to call this unthinkable or absurd? I have explained how we Christians believe God has actually taken such a step through his special Image on earth, Jesus Christ. He told us that God is love. He poured into us a palpable measure of his Spirit of love. If this claim can be substantiated, as I believe it can, would it not confirm and specify what we already know of him from natural sources?
My words about God are like roads running off
in all directions,
cleverly twined and knotted,
a network
spanning the land.
But just as well
they don’t cover everything.
For flowers won’t grow
on tarmac.
When sounds of a joyful song
dance around me,
when the rhythm of rapture engulfs me,
it’s music itself
not the reviews
not the scoresheet
that speaks to my heart.Sparkling drops
of fire in me
reveal your mystic melody.