A couple of weeks ago, a memorial Mass for Michael was held here in Birmingham at the Cathedral. The bishop presided and offered a very nice, even charming homily in which he first focused on the Scripture readings of the day, and then turned to Michael, whom he remembered, among other things, as one who […]
Oh, and here’s the Jesus finger story I’ve been sent several times today. It did nothing but tick me off. Frankly, I have no patience for this stuff. Jesus flicked his finger and shifted the hurricane east? Oh good – like that’s done NO so much good. Like he wanted to wipe out Gulfport, Biloxi and points in between and beyond?
It’s mystery. Pain and suffering and mystery. Read Job. There’s nothing wrong with questioning, for that’s exactly what Job did. His friends told him to shut up and just accept the "fact" that gosh, he must have done something wrong to deserve all of this pain. But he refused and dared to approach and confront God. God’s answer, of course, from the whirlwind, is not, to our ears, satisfactory. But it satisfied Job, evidently. But do note – it wasn’t the theologically certain friends who met God. No, they just got to sit and keep talking about Him. It was Job, who dared to rage, who was blessed with the encounter, who was drawn into the mystery, who eventually, in ways beyond words or rationality, found some sense of peace, an answer beyond answers.
Ask. Rage. Question. But don’t rest too easy with your own answers, because they might deafen you to God’s.