“It is Jesus that you seek when you dream of happiness; he is waiting for you when nothing else you find satisfies you; he is the beauty to which you are so attracted; it is he who provokes you with that thirst for fullness that will not let you settle for compromise; it is he who urges you to shed the masks of a false life; it is he who reads in your heart your most genuine choices, the choices that others try to stifle.” (Pope John Paul II, World Youth Day 2000, Rome)
I don’t know about other authors, but I rarely go back and reread my own books. I already know what I said. But, for some reason, I found myself perusing the first chapter of my book, “We’re on a Mission from God,” the other day. And it occurred to me that the message I wrote there bears repeating.
That opening chapter was about our search for fulfillment. About how our lives seem to be a never-ending loop of finding something we think is going to finally make us really, truly happy. “If I only had ‘x,’ (a spouse, a baby, that job, that car, that amount of money in the bank) then everything would finally be right in my world.” And then we attain that thing — whatever it may be — and we find out that it does not. The world still doesn’t feel quite right. The ache in the center of our hearts is still there. So, we move on to the next thing. A bigger car. A different spouse. Surely that finally will bring fulfillment.
And guess what? It doesn’t. That emptiness is still there. Maybe we’re not always aware of it. Maybe we try to stay busy so we can keep it at bay. But it has a way of popping up — when we’re sick, when we’re afraid, when we’re facing our own mortality, or sometimes just when we’re awake in the wee small hours of the morning, and all of the distractions have faded away.
We feel like there has to be more.
The reason for this is simple. We were not made to find our ultimate fulfillment in wealth, or success, or popularity, or any of the temporary things of this earth. We were made to find true, deep, lasting fulfillment only in union with God. As St. Augustine put it, “Our hearts were made for thee, O Lord, and will not rest until they rest in thee.”
Or, as I like to put it, we have a “God-shaped” hole in the center of our hearts. And nothing else quite fits in it. And to the extent that it is empty — that he is not filling it — we are not experiencing the fulfillment that we were made for. And we can sense it.
He made us for himself. And nothing else truly satisfies.
So, what’s the answer? Well, for those on the outside — the “unchurched” — it seems easy. Come on in. Discover Christ. He wants a relationship with you. It’s what you were made for. He founded an entire church just to facilitate that relationship.
All true. Please do.
But what happens when we’re already on the inside? We’ve joined the club. Been through the initiation. Play by all the rules. And yet we’re still feeling empty.
The God-shaped hole is not filled by membership. It’s not filled by rule-following. Not that those aren’t essential elements. But there is more.
I think we often tend to see our relationship with God as a “contract.” God agrees to some stuff, I’ll agree to some stuff. I’ll scratch your back, you scratch mine. I’ll follow the rules, attend Mass, go through the motions. And then God will fill me with the peace that surpasses all understanding.
But God sees it differently. He doesn’t want a contract. A contract would only give him a little of us — and by extension, give us a little of him. Why would he want that? He created us, gave us everything we have. And then he gave his entire self for us on the cross. He doesn’t want us, in exchange for that, to give him a few dribs and drabs of attention on Sunday morning, and then to ignore him the rest of the week. He wants us to give our entire selves to him in return.
He created us for covenant.
A covenant isn’t just an exchange of something we have with another. It is a complete gift of ourselves. God wants all of us. Every day. Every moment. Every decision.
That’s a little more difficult, isn’t it?
He founded an entire church to help us find that union. He gives us the Holy Spirit. He gives us the sacraments. He gives us his very body and blood, so that he can dwell within us. But we need to do our part. We need to respond to the graces we are receiving. We need to bring him into every aspect of our lives. We need to be spending regular time communicating with him in prayer. After all, how can we give ourselves to him if we don’t really know him?
So, of course, he allows us to feel that emptiness when we begin to drift away from him. How else is he going to call us back into full covenant with himself?
It may seem like I’m preaching to the choir. This is a Catholic newspaper, and you Catholics serious enough about your faith to read it have likely heard most of what I’m saying here.
But I think we all need reminding. Why? Because I need reminding. Because there are times when I sense the drift and feel the emptiness. And then I need to ask myself the questions: “Am I really giving my entire self to him? Am I fully participating at Mass, or am I just going through the motions? Is my prayer keeping my relationship with him alive and active? Is there sin in my life that is blocking his grace?”
Covenant is not a “one-and-done” kind of arrangement. It is a lifelong process. Moreover, it’s a process that extends into the next life. The happiness of heaven will spring from exactly the same source: eternal union with God. If we haven’t even begun that here, how can we desire to live it there?
So, when you are feeling that emptiness, take it as a sign. And then take it to him and ask him to help you get back on track. Do it over and over again.
That is the best way I know to find the peace that surpasses all understanding.
Bonacci is a syndicated columnist based in Denver.
