October 14, 2014
I am pleased to be writing this at my local Tim Horton’s in Columbus, Ohio. Looking at the sign for this spot always amuses me: “Tim Horton’s Cafe and Bake Shop.” It’s the same thing on the radio, on TV and in the newspaper: Tim Horton’s needs to describe what they do here. Not so in Canada. When we see a sign for Timmy’s, we know what we’re pulling in for.
That which is unknown needs to be described to us. Thankfully, “Cafe and Bake Shop” are relatively straightforward; other words are not. I have been reminded of this a few times since beginning my pastoral year assignment in campus ministry. I sometimes use words that have become part of my seminary/theology vocabulary, forgetting that they may not be part of someone else’s vocabulary. I should not assume that the word “ecumenism” will be immediately understood. The same is true for “ecclesiology.”
The complexity of words is and is not a problem when it comes to knowing God. It can be a problem in the philosophical or theological sense. For example, the councils of the Church have talked about God using Greek terms like “ousia.” This and the term “homos” came together to form what we have translated into our creed as “consubstantial.” A lot of Catholics object to the term “consubstantial” precisely because it is so abstract and difficult to grasp. I can appreciate that.
I do not feel that the complexity of words, however, need be a problem when it comes to encountering God. My sense is that God feels the same way. I like that about him.
A few years ago I was trying to help my friend put together a new cabinet in the basement of her new house. She was upstairs unpacking something else, so when I called up asking her how a certain piece was supposed to connect, she started calling down directions. After several minutes of frustration with minimal success, my friend said, “Never mind, I’ll just come down and show you.”
There is a sense in which the Incarnation – the event of God becoming human – is like God saying, “I’ll just come down and show you.” (The Ikea directions are still valid though!) I want to say that this is a bit like a golf pro standing behind us and showing us how to hold the club, take our stance and swing, but I know that it’s even more intense than that: Jesus shows us how to live, but he also shows us who God is.
By no coincidence, the way God allows us to know him can be likened to the phenomenon we call “love.” It is better to be comforted by it, to be held because of it and to be given life through it than it is to know (conceptually) what it is. It is the same with mercy. Don’t tell me what component of my brain does or does not permit me to forgive; don’t describe it to me as a sociological phenomenon. Just forgive me. Let me forgive you.
I do not wish to throw away the Catholic intellectual tradition; that would be silly. I do mean to say that God is universally accessible – knowable – to everyone, regardless of vocabulary. I know what Tim Hortons is because I am a good Canadian. I know who God is because I am his child, and he is with me.