Theology?

To me it seems there is a difference between knowing about God and knowing God. 

 

I knew about God…because I was born into a church going, rosary saying, dyed in the wool Catholic family.

 

But, from an early age I was a skeptic.

I can’t say that I didn’t believe there was a God.  

But, l didn’t get it. 

God seemed like a judgmental potentate living in some galaxy…far faraway…or like some “pissed off” pasha who wanted to send me to a fiery hell for not following all the “impossible to keep” rules.  Besides church was boring.  

 

To me…Church consisted of a lot of finger waging, guilt tripping and a lot of unnecessary pomp and circumstance.

 

I certainly did not feel the love.

 

I recall the incident, with vivid clarity…the Sunday I decided I was not going to church…and I didn’t.

 

A second grader at the time, I can still see myself sitting on the back porch steps…shined shoes, combed hair and that shirt my mother made from a chicken feed sack. 

 

That was when the feed store sold feed in 50# cotton sacks with really nice prints.  The feed store was a…    

Oh!  But I digress.  

 

There I sat…on the back porch step pondering the possible consequences of my actions.

 

When my folks returned from Mass my father administered some parental discipline…the kind he wore around his waist to hold up his trousers. 

 

I attended Mass after that…but only physically...mentally, I was who knows where. 

 

And so it was...I spent the next 40 years of my life trying to hide from God… wandering in a desert of secularism…lost in a sea of selfishness…trapped in some self-serving black hole. I went to church because it was less painful than the alternative.

I wanted to run with the big dogs…turning over trashcans and sticking my nose into places it didn’t belong…but my parents kept me on a very short leash. 

 

I’m not good at remembering dates but I remember this one.

June 11, 1965…the day a private plane crash took both my parents lives. 

 

Events like this will cause you to stop and think.  One of my thoughts was: “nowI can do what Iwant to do”.  How self-centered is that?

I never told my father “I love you”.…I love you Dad…

I married.  Married for selfish reasons…it was more lust than love. I had no clue about the real definition of love, unconditional love; which is willing the good of the other without any consideration for what you will get out of it.

 

 I went to church because she expected me to…I did notlike sleeping in the doghouse. 

 

But 40 year of doing things my way...40 years of trying to hide from God…my house of cards collapsed.  It was a house built on sand…the house Jesus talks about inMathew 7:27

 

My life was an absolute mess.

 

My business was going down like the Titanic, my marriage was on the rocks, and I was sinking in debt.

 

My ship had sailed…and I was left sitting on the dock of doom and gloom. 

 

At that point living had no meaning.  All my dreams of success and living “happily ever after” had been washed away.

 

I wanted to die.  I didn’t have the courage to shoot myself. But, I felt like dying. 

 

Bemoaning my situation…I sat beneath that orange and white striped roof trying to drown my troubles with a “What-a-sized” double meat/double cheese and extra fries.

 

Despair and depression must have been written all over my face...

 

Because, this fellow, I barely knew, came over and asked me “Are you OK?”

 

Strangely, I dumped my entire load of troubles and tribulations on him. 

 

After patiently listening he asked me    and I quote.

 

“Have youever taken Jesus Christ as your Lord and Savior?” 

 

“You have to say it out loud.” He emphasized.

 

Dumbfounded and speechless...I nodded politely and thought to myself “I’m Catholic...

That sounds like some Billy Graham stuff.  

But…wait…this guy is Catholic.

So what’s going on?

 

Now…I’ve never been accused of being the brightest student in the class (believe me I’ve got the report cards to prove it.)

 

So…for the next two weeks I struggled with this Jesus thing. 

I just could not get Him out of my head.  

 

I couldn’t sleep.  I started to say the only prayer I knew by heart…the “Our Father”… I would repeat it over and over until it put me to sleep.

 

I had tried doing things my way and it was an utter disaster.

 

Finally…out of options…and reckoning I had nothing to loose.  

 

I swallowed hard and in a sheepish, quivering voice…making sure no one was listening...I said it. 

 

“Jesus, I take you as my Lord and Savior”

 

Words cannot express and I cannot describe the feeling of relief and liberation that came over me. 

Some how I knew I was going to be OK…I didn’t understand how but I knew. I could see a glimmer of light; Jesus had rolled back the stone from my grave.

 

Gradually one problem after another was resolved in ways I could have never imagined…  in a way I could not have possibly brought about myself…it had to be some supernatural power.

It was as much of a miracle as the blind made to see, the lame to walk or the leper healed. 

But life continued...with all its trials and tribulations, problems with children, problems with everyday life. 

These were trying times. And I will have to admit that my prayer life would not be what it is today if it had not been for these challenges. I can’t imagine enduring these times without Jesus.

 

I have come to realize that some of the worse disasters turn out to be our biggest blessings.

 

When I look back on my life I now recognize that Jesus has always, always taken care of me…even when I would not have given HIM as much as the time of day. 

 

Jesus literally saved me…saved me from myself.

 

Like the Psalmist says:   “Give praise to the Lord, for he is good: his mercy enduresforever.”  Psalm 118:1  (Retreat theme)

 

Now.  Do I really know about God?  Do I really understand God?   Do I really believe in God?  

 

My God is an unbelievable God…my God does unbelievable things.

If I don’t fully understand Einstein’s  (E=mc2), calculus or chemistry then how can I really understand the Crucifixion? 

Understanding and believing are two different things.

I choose to believe…I choose to trust in God.

I choose to believe in an unbelievable God because he has done unbelievable things for me. 

I believe because, deep down in my bones I know God loves me. 

 

I know because when I think of Jesus hanging on that cross…I have to bit my lip to hold back the tears.

 

At Mass…

While my body tries to maintain a pious posture…my eyes stray to a pretty face, a palomino ponytail, or some inappropriately tight dress. 

 

In spite of my mental inattention and daydreaming…there is always that moment …that moment when I realize I’m the one at the Last Supper dipping my hand into the same the dish with Jesus…I’m the one warming myself by the fire in Caiaphas’ courtyard as that cock crows…I’m the one at the foot of the cross hearing the words “forgive him, he doesn’t have a clue”…these are the moments when this feeling washes over me like a giant wave that comes crashing down leaving me gasping for air, 

chocking back tears, 

and struggling to keep emotions afloat. 

 

The thought that Jesus loves me…selfish me…is overwhelming.

 

Listen to Isaiah chapter  55 verse 8 & 9

For My thought are not your thoughts,

Neither your ways my ways,

Declares the Lord.

 

As the heavens are higher than the earth,

So are my ways higher than yours ways

And my thoughts higher than your thoughts.

 

God’s ways are not my ways. His ways are a paradox. His ways seem backwards, counterintuitive…but I can tell you

 God’s ways work.

So what do I know about theology?

Not much…but I do know this:

 

Jesus, If not for You I would be lost.

For You have died and paid the cost. 

It is Your love I truly savor.

So here’s to You my Lord and Savior.

 

Amen.