The Search

Everybody’s trying to find God. They may not admit it. They may not even know it. They may talk around it, shy away from saying the name, both to others and to themselves: God. But I know for a fact that every person who was ever born into this world spent their lives searching for Him - somewhere, somehow, even if the only place they thought to look was in money or drugs.

It’s a comforting fact, really — a reminder of how alike we all are. Catholic, Jewish, Muslim, atheist, rich, poor, Black, white. When it comes right down to it, the history of humanity is a never-ending Easter morning scene that plays in perpetuity. The sorrow, the shock, the confusion. Again and again, as each newborn baby opens his eyes, the search begins anew. Where did he go? What has happened? Where can I find him?

Catechesis isn’t enough. Even those who learn about Jesus Christ, who accept his word, hang hesitantly outside the tomb, afraid to go in. Jesus’ best friend — the disciple whom he loved — ran faster than Peter, so desperate he was to find his Lord. But when he got to the tomb and saw it empty, he got spooked. He froze.

Sometimes, we expect God to be right where we left Him — in a certain parish, with a certain priest, in a certain relationship, at a certain job. We show up, and we’re heartbroken to see that our expectations have been turned upside down. He’s left us, we think dejectedly, but we’re wrong.

There is no one who has been abandoned by God. There are only those who stop looking for Him.

Don’t let the empty tombs define you. It’s the search that defines you.

©LPi