Seek God, and by feeling your way towards him, succeed in finding him
Saint Paul’s speech to the Greeks on the Areopagus takes a turn when he states that the God
he proclaims to them is not far from anyone. He is entirely different, not made by human hands,
yet profoundly near to man, every man. Far away, yet so near, which is a paradox, possibly the
greatest paradox of all, to be able to meet God, who exists in all and everything, in the depths of
our heart.
“Seek God, and by feeling your way towards him, succeed in finding him” tells the story of the
people of God who have been travelling for centuries, from Abraham to the prophets to the
very last of them: John the Baptist. It was God who gradually manifested himself to those who
opened their hearts to him in order to feel their way towards him and to succeed in finding him.
This is where the strategic Saint Paul finds a new point of contact with his listeners by citing
some of their own poets who wrote: “We are all his children” or “For we too are his offspring”,
as it is also said. This is a beautiful expression, as it indicates our connection to God.
People love to trace their family tree, and some succeed in going way back in history. And what
joy when they discover an important person among their ancestors, or someone of noble birth
or a member of a famous family. Our family tree traces back to God himself, and that goes for
every one of us. Is there any greater descent conceivable? At the same time, it brings us to a
special relationship with each other, because in fact we are all related.
When we once again recognise this divine nature in ourselves and in others, it has huge
consequences. It’s a revaluation of our humanity, and even when this humane aspect is
sometimes heavily shrouded, to the extent that one could question the value of this human life,
our divine origin remains an incitement to continue to see man as a human being in every
situation and respect, restore and support him in his humanity.
“We are all his children.” This is what we should write on the face of the totally neglected
mentally ill person who wanders the streets of an African city naked and dirty and driven away
by everyone. And even that tramp, the one we try to skirt around because he’s vile-smelling, has
letters patent of nobility that say that he is of divine descent. The severely mentally challenged
child, of whom some say that it lives on as a vegetable, also deserves our respect because we all
belong to the same family. It might be very hard when we stand before someone who
committed a serious crime, who abused children or even killed them: this person, too, no
matter how heinous his acts may be, continues to bear the name ‘human being’ and still belongs
to our divine family.
That small phrase written by Greek poets, so justly cited by Saint Paul, entails great
consequences with regard to our relationship with God and with every neighbour. The entire
message of the Old Testament focuses on that: man, remember your origin and become what
you are: divine. This requires conversion, not once but constantly. For deep within there is also
that urge to turn away from our origin, to build our own origin and revert to a sterile
complacency. We must constantly turn to God, our origin, and through God to the neighbour,
every neighbour. We can only become truly human, it says, when we remain rooted in our one
and only origin, God, and when we open our arms to our neighbour. True self-fulfilment, a very
popular notion right until this very day, always involves God and the neighbour. This is where
many people experience difficulties because they consider both God and the neighbour as
competitors, standing in the way of their self-fulfilment. Under the misapprehension that they
are developing themselves, they revert to individualism, the great evil of the me-culture in which
we seem to sink ever deeper. Meanwhile, we know what the consequences are, on a personal
level as well as on a broader social level. The entire drama of mankind is already beautifully
described in the first pages of the Bible: how man wants to be his own god and how he reacts
against his neighbour. God, who created man out of pure love, has, as a consequence of this
unconditional love, given him the most precious gift, which distinguishes him from all other living
things and which makes him human, indeed: freedom.
The love between God and man is merely conceivable and possible in freedom; love can never
be forced or imposed.
However, evil has infiltrated into exactly this freedom, that pre-eminent gift from God.
Freedom, which is intended to fully open man to God and the neighbour, was infected so that
man got trapped inside himself, ran from God, and cut himself off from the neighbour.
The mystery of evil might be mysterious, its effects however are noticeable and tangible in every
one of us.
However, God’s love remained greater than the loathing and the hate that was growing inside
man through evil. God always tried to pick up the pieces so to speak, which is so often
described in a human and colourful way in the Old Testament. Always making a fresh start,
always providing new opportunities, expressing in human terms such as compassion how much
God is still concerned about man, in spite of everything. God’s love is indestructible and will
always continue to triumph. He will never abandon us. This is what He proved when he took
the human form; the Creator became creature, entered the creature that he himself made. No,
no greater love is possible; this can only be understood through and from love.
The incarnation is the second creation, in which the divine origin is made perfect, complete, and
becomes divine nature. That which evil had broken, God himself has made whole again. God
provided total union with him as a perspective again without affecting human freedom and
without permanently removing evil; evil was vanquished but not destroyed. Human nature
before the fall of man, in complete harmony with God and with each other, is offered again as a
perspective in the resurrection, eternity, timelessness. With this perspective, all hopelessness
was lifted and hope was restored.
God offers us his mercy, which we can respond to or not. From now on, we can choose to set
out with God, towards fulfilment, or obstinately follow our own path, which is, however, a dead
end. God, in his infinite love, leaves us with a choice, continues to give us our freedom, out of
love. Yet, he always remains present as an invitation, as the merciful Father who rushes towards
us when we take one step in his direction.
In his speech, Saint Paul touches upon the essence, the seal of the covenant, the coping stone of
salvation and the sign that God’s love is far greater and stronger than evil: the resurrection.
However, on the Areopagus, Saint Paul experiences that which we still hear so often today.
A first group, probably the majority, starts to laugh and mocks the resurrection. We meet with
the same fate nowadays when we try to proclaim the full truth of Christ, and live faith in all of
its aspects as an example.
We are considered naïve, we are jeered at and shown the door. There has probably never been
so much ridicule when it comes to faith than today. And it hurts, it’s humiliating. Yet, at the
same time, we enter the footsteps of Jesus who was also jeered at, mocked, and humiliated.
It would be rather dubious when everyone would start to cheer for us, encourage us,
congratulate us. Would we still proclaim the whole evangelical message, right up to the
resurrection, and the cross, and everything that our Lord Jesus taught us?
A second group asks Saint Paul to come back. They didn’t understand the message immediately,
yet they were touched. This is also a familiar situation nowadays: people who have their hands
full with worldly matters but sense that there is more; that which is visible and tangible cannot
be the end. Of course, they are children of their time, critical about everything that cannot be
measured or proven, however they feel an inner void that says that there’s more, something
profound, they hope that behind the horizon of daylight another light shines and they desire to
once have a taste of that ‘more’. We must make time for these people and, with our words, or
better, God’s Word, try to join in their story. This is what catechism also stands for today:
continuing to speak the Word, so that more and more people might enjoy the Word, including
those who were laughing it off at first.
Some joined him, a small minority. No, Saint Paul’s speech had not been in vain. Let us find
comfort in this: seed that falls on fertile ground bears fruit. But the sower keeps on sowing,
even on the path where it is trampled, and even where thistles and weeds choke it. We mustn’t
just turn to that small group alone, the others, too, should indeed hear the Word of God. For
we are merely the spokesmen for the Word that comes from elsewhere!