Love Complete, Conditioned Love

An odd experience of the Vigil Mass for Corpus Christi (the Body and Blood of Christ). I have never felt so disengaged. Or, at all disengaged, but tonight, I was. I spent about a half hour in the chapel beforehand, talking to the Lord, went for a walk thinking I might go home and return for Mass on Sunday; felt relief, then, seeing a couple parishioners, went back for Mass anyway.

 
I think I know what the deal is, based on this simple yet acute understanding. The Lord knows me, and I know him. I know his ways. In the process of joining with the church, I was granted several visions that showed me over a few months, in succession, my calling into the church; my ministry in the church; a vision of heaven; a vision of purgatory; the nature of Mary as the Church; and my death, or the flight of my soul. While I have been granted a couple insights since then (the Cross of the Lord on a mountaintop beset by heavy rains; the epiphany of forgiveness only by God the Father) I do not expect much more in the way of visions. For, you see, Lord, I read. I have made myself familiar with your...modus operendi. The Bible tells me as much, that you grant faith and insight and promise, then withdraw. It is our duty then to maintain our promise to you. To adore you. To pray. To live according to your laws and your example. Oh, yes. It is an old, old pattern, more reliable than any other that comes to mind, for by your grace it preceded the birth of the heavens and it will be invoked on the day of judgement, when the heaavens and earth pass away, and are made new.

And so, tonight, while the Spirit may have withdrawn from me, I am unshaken. Alerted, but unwavering. There is no power and no vacancy of power that will cause me to falter in my love of you. I am happy, overjoyed to be tested thus, for I know how you test those you love. That you should continue to show me favors, first by obvious gifts, then withdrawing them to test me (boy, am I Catholic, or what...) is something I can’t even begin to comprehend as being anything due any cause but that of a father’s love. My son, Jackson, holds the same favor with me, and I have told him as much.

That comparison draws a thought, that you seek to teach me something about love and duty. You see, Lord, I know you. I know that all that I am and have is yours, and that insofar as you are with me, you will prompt me, and provoke me. You challenge me. And this too is love. We are fond of the term “unconditional love.” What is that? Perhaps a better term is “complete love,” to describe a love that is unfailingly attentive to the whole person, in which both persons are present, awake, dutiful, responsive, alive.

 
And so I am present too, Lord, when you are silent. You can’t fool me. I know you are there. Even when I am not allowed the pleasure of feeling it, I know you are there.