It’s puzzling to me, the belief that God is helpless to do anything for us or in our world until we accept God into our lives. If I misunderstand these words, I apologise, but they do puzzle me. What if, rather than waiting to be ‘let in’ God’s is already present, constantly acting? What if God is a loving presence in this world? Irrepressibly life-giving, whatever our inclinations.
Perhaps God is constantly acting and moving in us, among us and beyond us, making a new Creation, especially where nothing seems possible?
The idea that we must embrace God before we can be saved, feels like it misses the depth of love in which we are held from before our conception to beyond our death.
God’s saving love is constantly saving. The question is whether we have the eyes of the heart to see the movement of love, compassion, solidarity, forgiveness, mercy and joy all around us, in us, between us, beyond us.
The evidence is everywhere. In the small signs of beauty that we see in each day; the clouds, the breeze, a flower, when we see people show care for one another, or forgive each other. When we manage to be courageous for the sake of justice, or in defence of another. When we refuse revenge or judgement, instead choosing compassion and mercy. When we remember that the goods of the earth are meant for all and share our resources. When we live all the gifts of the Spirit in the ordinary mess of our lives, albeit unconsciously much of the time, we are being moved and touched by God’s very self.
These moments are all reminders of the active presence of the Creator. In the hard times of life, it is often the tiny signs of God’s solidarity that mean the most. An unexpected smile, a rainbow, a call from a friend, birdsong. Any act of solidarity or kindness is a sign to us of God’s solidarity with us in our suffering, calling us to see that suffering isn’t the only truth, but that God is also present, in profound being-with us.
This doesn’t mean that God is busy putting a flower specifically where you’ll see it or a bird in the tree for you, but not anyone else. With eyes to see, we notice that Creation is always giving. At the same time, it is also still unfolding for its own benefit and for ours as part of that Creation, when we can see it; for all the earth, you and me included, as a reminder and evidence of the Creator’s constant presence. Learning to notice these acts of solidarity and love draws us into a sense of being in the company of the One who loves us, releasing in us a profound gratitude.
We only need to notice. And even if we don’t notice, the wonder of it all is that, it happens anyway.
During the Eucharistic prayer we pray “send your Spirit upon these gifts like the dewfall”
Dewfall happens silently. It falls freely on everything where the moisture in the air reaches saturation point and water droplets form. For indigenous desert communities, dewfall is essential for the overall water balance of their food and water sources. They access this free gift of creation available to them as their day begins, provided silently and without effort, while they slept.
During the Eucharistic Prayer it is the Holy Spirit who comes silently to bless and transform the bread and wine. Which in turn will bless and transform us. The Spirit comes freely, like the dewfall.
Dewfall lands on everything. Like the rain and the sun that God sends that falls on the just and the unjust, the knowing, the not-fully knowing, the curious and the oblivious.
Love is an action. The One who loves is the Creator, always in process. ”I Am who I Am, or I Am who I Will Be”, God’s name given to Moses, expressing a constant state of Presence unfolding each present moment; The Redeemer who walked in our shoes, taking our suffering and transforming it through His own transformed wounds; the Sanctifier who breathes life where none seems possible. God’s action is not dependent on our acceptance. It is only whether we look for the presence of Love around us, or whether we miss it living busy, distracted lives.
Every morning, notice if there is dewfall on the leaves or grass, or if you can recognise some other sign of God-with-us. Perhaps an unbidden hug or smile or huge protests in defence of starving people and long-held hostages. These are small and sometimes big acts of God’s solidarity with us, in our suffering, our joy, our loneliness, our restlessness, our thirst for justice or whatever is happening in our lives in that moment.
And if there isn’t any dewfall then, inspired by the Holy Spirit, we become the dewfall. Nourished by the Holy Spirit, we bring to consciousness, in ourselves and others, God’s movement among us – with a genuine curiosity, an interested, engaged stance, a commitment to justice and peacebuilding; in short, by learning to see and respond to God with the eyes of the heart.
As St Paul writes to the Colossians “Christ is all and in all.” Col 3:11
Theologian James Alison reminds us that everything is already given. Poet David Whyte in his poem ‘Everything is waiting for you’ writes about everything being for us, even the kettle.
All we need to do is relax into the already-givenness of everything.
Cardinal Pizzabella, Latin Patriarch of Jerusalem, spoke about recognising God already present in the people of the Holy Family Church Catholic community of Gaza during his visit to the war torn, suffering and starving community. Here is a link to his homily.
May the dewfall of God-ever-present as the One who is eternally creating, the One who walks with us and the One who sanctifies our lives, nourish you, especially if you are living in a ‘desert’ space right now, in need of life-giving dewfall.
May you open the eyes of your heart to see that help has already arrived.
Catherine Whewell was Director of People in Ministry and Chancellor in the Catholic Archdiocese of Adelaide. Cathy now writes and is based in Denmark with family.
