Here’s an experiment: Go to a mirror . . . ideally one in a decently lit room. (Most bathrooms are, of course, ideal.) Cover one eye good and tight with your hand. Look at your other eye in the mirror. Wait a bit — 30 to 60 seconds or so. Then uncover the eye and look at it in the mirror. Do you see the iris contracting as it adjusts to the light? Depending on your eyesight, you might even be able to see the individual fibers of your iris adjust to provide the optimal amount of light to your pupil.
Take a moment. Think about how utterly amazing that is. You almost certainly can’t focus your iris on its own, but your body knows the optimal amount of light it needs, and works near-invisibly to provide you what you need.
If, for some reason, you don’t have full use of your eyes, and can’t perform this experiment: You’re encountering these words in some way. Regardless of how these words reach you, that method is, in its own way, “miraculous.” A computerized screen reader? It’s translating individual digital 1’s and 0’s into words you can hear. A friend reading this to you? An amazing testament to the power of friendship, or the wonder of a working society.
Most often, the daily readings awaken in me some intellectual curiosity: “Hmm . . . here’s something I haven’t thought about,” or “what about this point of view?” Today’s readings, however, sparked a different reaction: emotion.
Don’t just listen to how today’s readings begin. Feel it: “Woe to me, mother, that you gave me birth! a man of strife and contention to all the land! I neither borrow nor lend, yet all curse me.” This is not an intellectual argument; it’s raw feelings, made tangible in words. The pain there is tangible, but then it reverses at the end: “For I am with you, to deliver and rescue you, says the LORD. I will free you from the hand of the wicked, and rescue you from the grasp of the violent.”
Similarly, the Gospel selection from Matthew isn’t trying to make an intellectual argument as to why you should want to get to Heaven; it’s drawing entirely on passion, on emotion, to make you feel what that reward is: “like a treasure buried in a field, which a person finds and hides again, and out of joy goes and sells all that he has and buys that field.”
In a way, our minds aren’t able to process the “miracles” in our lives. The gift of our daily breaths, the adjustment of our eyes, the flow of our societies, the bodily presence of our Lord in the Eucharist, the absolute forgiveness of sins for those who seek it, the sensation of salt on our tongue, the bud of a flower providing food for a bee, the way our skins knit themselves whole when cut, the way God Himself was willing to be pierced to death to save the world, the sacrifice of countless parents who care for their children, the untold martyrs who gave their lives to deliver and protect the Word . . .
. . . all of these blow my mind if I think about them. All of them fill my heart with an overwhelming gratitude, a boundless joy.
I challenge you today, then, to feel. Feel something in regard to your Lord. If you haven’t lately, think of some aspect of the faith that you have a hard time wrapping your mind around, and then don’t try to wrap your mind around it . . . just feel the awe, the power, the glory. If you have a loving spouse, think of your worst character trait, and then count the days and years that spouse has dealt with that trait . . . and then marvel in the wonder and emotion of a God-sanctified marriage.
If your emotions run too deep to despair or sadness, consider not shying away from them. Understand that God has felt similar anger, at moneylenders who defile His temples and at those who turn away from justice. And God has felt sadness similar to our greatest sorrows, as Jesus gave his life on the Cross, and as His chosen people drifted away in sin and selfishness. The fear and sorrow of Jesus’ disciples, staring at him on the Cross. The frustration of Abraham as he futilely sought 10 righteous people in Sodom and Gomorrah. Words fail to convey these, and we’re left with emotion . . . emotion that God knows and understands, and has used to bring us closer to Him.
But, if possible, feel joy. Joy that God is with you, joy at the countless miracles that keep the world spinning, joy at the gifts you’ve been given, joy at an ultimate future with your Lord that awaits you and is too great to fathom.
I admit that, for me, it’s possible to overthink our Faith at times . . . but — when it comes to the joy of our countless miracles — I’m not sure it’s possible to overfeel. Let our God-given emotions bring us closer to Him.
Today’s readings: Jer 15:10,16-21; Ps 59:2-3,4,10-11,17,18; Mt 13:44-46
