A priest I came to know well preaches often about the experiences and relationships in our lives where both the mystery and the presence of God are very apparent to us.
He calls these the “thin places” where the distance between the divine and the human is overcome, when God feels so close, we can touch Him and feel His gentle breath on our soul.
We have all had moments like this, experiences of deep love, beauty, sorrow, suffering, and peace.
Some of these thin places are consoling and uplifting, others are difficult and challenging; all of them lead us to new horizons of insight and awareness.
The Resurrection: Places of encounter
The Resurrection appearances in the Gospels are thin places of encounter between the risen Christ and His followers in the wake of the crucifixion.
Amidst their grief, confusion, shame, and abandonment at Jesus’ death, the disciples experience the shocking presence of the Lord in a way that is deeply consoling but also mysterious.
Their Lord and teacher had indeed returned from the dead, just as He promised, but was now with them in a new way.
The risen Christ is certainly embodied in human flesh, bearing the wounds of the Cross, eating a piece of fish, appearing in the midst of His friends, standing in the garden of the tomb, walking on the way to Emmaus, suddenly present in the Upper Room, cooking breakfast on the shore of Lake Tiberias.
Yet, He is not as they had known Him, for indeed they fail to recognize who He is.
Mary Magdalene thinks Jesus is the gardener, the Apostles assume He is a ghost, and the disciples on their way to Emmaus think Him a friendly companion for a day’s walk.
Jesus appears and disappears at will; His body has risen from death but is now glorified and radiant.
Christ has a new and different relationship with those first disciples and the world.
Those Jesus loved get glimpses and moments of His risen presence, but things cannot be as they were.
The Lord will ascend to Heaven, send the Holy Spirit, establish the Church, be fully present now in the sacraments, especially the Eucharist, and abide in the hearts of believers.
Jesus consoles His followers with the comfort of His return from death, but they will now be sent to continue His mission without His bodily presence as they had always known Him to be.
The Lord in our lives
In my spiritual path, I often crave a clarity and certainty which usually elude my grasp.
I don’t refer here to a conviction of doctrine or belief, but rather to the more nebulous questions.
Can I truly know the will of God and am I actually fulfilling it? Is God pleased with me? In challenging situations, how should I act and what should I say? Is God really here with me, or is it just wishful thinking?
I often seek direct answers, specific instructions, convicting commands, yet when I kneel before the Blessed Sacrament, the only response from God is silence, a full and rich silence indeed, but seldom giving any clear messages.
The thin places of my life include celebrations of the Eucharist; moments of prayer; sharing both joy and sorrow with others; being immersed in the beauty of nature, art, or music; visiting the sick or serving the poor; reading a great novel; or listening to the broken heart of another pouring out sorrow.
My times of struggle, challenge, and difficulty are also thin places, when I wonder how to resolve a pastoral problem, heal a conflict, or move forward with resolve, even in the face of criticism or indifference.
In all of these experiences, I come to know a vulnerability that both attracts me but can also unsettle me.
I know and feel the loving, radiant consolation of the risen Jesus, but like those Gospel narratives, I am left in a state of wonder at the mystery of God’s presence and purpose.
The Lord is so close to us that we can never avoid Him; He is so beyond us that we can never fully capture Him.
Like tracking a deer in the woods or walking on pilgrimage to a high-towered shrine, we get occasional flashes of insight, momentary glimpses of God’s presence ahead of us, but then the road curves and dips, or the woods get thicker and what seemed so clear a moment ago has vanished from our sight, but we keep going.
In persevering on our pilgrim way, faithfully worshiping God in the Eucharist, confessing our sins, wrapping our lives in prayer, seeking virtue, and living charity, we feel the lure of God’s love compelling us forward, even when the path seems uncertain.
How insightful to ponder what the disciples instinctively did after the risen Jesus had suddenly appeared to them and then, just as abruptly, disappeared. They proclaimed their spiritual experience to the others.
Mary Magdalene runs to tell the Apostles; the disciples in Emmaus immediately return to Jerusalem that same night to recount what had happened to them; years later, Paul retells often his experience of the risen Christ on the road to Damascus.
As we emerge from the challenges of COVID, as we continue our Go Make Disciples evangelizing initiative, as we celebrate the 75th anniversary of our diocese, we are indeed called to share with the others how we have come to know the Lord, to feel His presence, to experience the Resurrection.
Isn’t that what sharing the Good News looks like?
Telling the world that, against all expectations, our lives are not a closed tomb of despair and meaninglessness because Christ has been raised!