I am going away, and shall return
Have you ever felt that Jesus was absent in your life? Have you ever felt that God was far away?
Saint Mother Teresa (1910-1997) felt like this for five decades. In 1937, for the first time, she writes to her former confessor back at home:
Do not think that my spiritual life is strewn with roses—that is the flower which I hardly ever find on my way. Quite the contrary, I have more often as my companion “darkness.” And when the night becomes very thick—and it seems to me as if I will end up in hell—then I simply offer myself to Jesus. If He wants me to go there—I am ready—but only under the condition that it really makes Him happy. I need much grace, much of Christ’s strength to persevere in trust, in that blind love which leads only to Jesus Crucified. But I am happy—yes happier than ever. And I would not wish at any price to give up my sufferings. But do not, however, think that I am only suffering. Ah no— I am laughing more than I am suffering—so that some have concluded that I am Jesus’ spoiled bride, who lives with Jesus in Nazareth—far away from Calvary… Pray, pray much for me—I really need His love.
We are fast moving towards the end of the Eastertide. Next Sunday will be the feast of Ascension. The liturgy of the word is preparing us for the farewell of Jesus. The gospel text for this Sunday comes from the farewell discourse of Jesus after the last supper (John 14:23-29). Jesus says, “Do not let your hearts be troubled or afraid. You heard me say: I am going away and shall return.” Though the going away of Jesus is a preparation for the coming of the Holy Spirit, the absence of Jesus could be agonising. We might all go through moments of absence of God/Jesus, just as my friend JD is going through these days. Against the backdrop of the farewell speech of Jesus in the gospel of today, I would like to invite you to reflect on the feeling of the absence of God in our lives, and how we might handle these situations.
The feeling of the absence of God, and the anguish of the soul seeking God, is so powerfully expressed in the Old Testament. Prophet Isaiah (45:15) cries out, “O God of Israel, the Saviour, you are a God who lies hidden.” And the Psalmist (27:7-8) prays, “It is your face, Oh Lord, that I seek hide not your face from me.”
While Jesus was hanging on the cross, he himself goes through those sentiments of being abandoned by God, as he prays Psalm 22: “Oh God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” And the psalm continues: “The words of my groaning do nothing to save me. My God, I call by day but you do not answer, at night, but I find no respite.”
Now, these sentiments could be expressions of frustrations of our prayers not being answered, but often they are portrayals of the earnest longing of the soul to be united with God. And God seems so far away.
St John of the Cross, a Carmelite mystic who lived in the 16th century in Spain, is known for his mystical poems. His famous “Spiritual Canticle” (written in 1678) opens with these lines:
Where have you hidden Yourself,
And abandoned me to my sorrow, O my Beloved!
You have fled like the hart,
Having wounded me.
I ran after you, crying; but you were gone.
As said earlier, Saint Mother Teresa of Calcutta seemed to have gone through this feeling of the absence of God for most of her life. Her letters and journal entries, published as a book entitled, Come Be My Light, express a darkness that Mother Teresa had to go through even as she was being the sign of the love of God for many people. In one undated entry she writes:
Lord, my God, who am I that you should forsake me? The Child of your Love – and now become as the most hated one – the one – You have thrown away as unwanted – unloved. I call, I cling, I want – and there is no One to answer – no One on Whom I can cling – no, No One. – Alone … Where is my Faith – even deep down right in there is nothing, but emptiness & darkness – My God – how painful is this unknown pain – I have no Faith – I dare not utter the words & thoughts that crowd in my heart & make me suffer untold agony.
It was not my intention to create a negative mood this morning. But these are genuine human sentiments and we need to face them. On the other hand, just as it is said that, absence makes the heart grow fonder, our own experience of the absence of God/Jesus could mark the beginning of a deeper spiritual journey.
Therefore, I want to point out that we all go through these moments. When I go through these moments of the absence of God in Jesus, I try to ask myself the following questions:
(1) Am I looking for Jesus in the right place? In Mt 2: the Magi went looking for Jesus – the king who was born, in the palace of Herod. Human logic. They preferred to follow human logic rather than that ‘irrational’ star in the sky. Logic failed them. When the women went to the tomb on the Sunday morning after the Sabbath, the angels told them: why seek the living among the dead? Simple logic: that is where they had seen him last on the Friday evening. But Jesus was not there! Even in my life, perhaps Jesus is not there now, where I met him last. So…
(2) Am I ready to be surprised by him? In the gospel today, Jesus says, I am going away so that the Holy Spirit could come. And he “will teach you everything” (Jn 14:26) While speaking to Nicodemus earlier in the Gospel of John (3:7-8), Jesus invites him to give the Holy Spirit his space: “The wind blows where it pleases; you can hear its sound, but you cannot tell where it comes from or where it is going. So it is with everyone who is born of the Spirit.”
(3) Therefore, am I humble enough to accept that praying is my effort but what will happen during prayer is the Grace of God?
From my own little experience, I can only say that these moments of emptiness, darkness, questioning are very fecund moments. It is like the seed waiting under the soil for its opportune moment to sprout. It is like the night before creation. It is like the nine months of being in the womb – there is a lot of work in progress. So I want to prayerfully assure my friend, JD: Wait for the birth. Wait for the arrival of the New Jerusalem (see the 2nd reading of today). The outcome will be inner peace: “Peace I give you. My own peace I give you, a peace that the world cannot give, this is my gift to you” (Jn 14:27).