Waiting for God

Bread and Wine Reading: "Waiting for God", Simone Weil

Scripture Reading: John 19: 38-42
After these things, Joseph of Arimathea, who was a disciple of Jesus, though a secret one because of his fear of the Jews, asked Pilate to let him take away the body of Jesus. Pilate gave him permission; so he came and removed his body. Nicodemus, who had at first come to Jesus by night, also came, bringing a mixture of myrrh and aloes, weighing about a hundred pounds. They took the body of Jesus and wrapped it with the spices in linen cloths, according to the burial custom of the Jews. Now there was a garden in the place where he was crucified, and in the garden there was a new tomb in which no one had ever been laid. And so, because it was the Jewish day of Preparation, and the tomb was nearby, they laid Jesus there.

In an excerpt from “The Love of God and Affliction”, Simone Weil claims that “one can only accept the existence of affliction by considering it at a distance.” God created love. We know that. It is easy for us to hang our beliefs upon that. And yet, God created a love more remarkable than anything that we can possibly imagine. Weil says that “[God] went to the greatest possible distance, the infinite distance” to show that love. In this essay, she writes of the distance between God and God, the distance between the greatest supreme agony and the greatest marvel of love. She says that “nothing can be further from God than that which has been made accursed.”

And yet, in the darkness of the Crucifixion, God crosses what Weil called “the infinite thickness of time and space.” It is something that we all have to do. But it is God that crosses it first. The greatest distance imaginable between the Creator and the creature is crossed by a love that is greater even than that. No longer do we have to fear evil, for even though it has touched us, God has traversed the seemingly bottomless canyon even beyond its own boundaries. No longer can evil and God be pitted against one another in some sort of dualistic cosmic battle. God has not fought the battle; God has crossed beyond the evil and taken it unto Godself.

But Weil contends that “we do not realize [this] distance except in the downward direction. It is much easier to imagine ourselves in the place of God the Creator than in the place of Christ crucified.” We want so badly to be with God that we miss the God with us. She describes the dimensions of Christ’s death as a “tearing asunder”. It is the only way that we could see the distance that God has crossed; it is the only way that we could see the distance we must cross. And so, torn apart, we as humanity, Christ as humanity, is abandoned by God. We are left alone to cross this chasm between God and God. And once our souls make that same journey that God made first, we are welcomed into the arms of a waiting God.

As this season of Lent brings us closer to the cross, as we near the end of the journey, as we now begin to come close enough to hear the shouts in the distance, to hear the drums of the death march, we are aware of how far we’ve come. And yet the journey has not even begun. God has gone ahead across the distance. We must follow. The time of our waiting for God is over; God now waits for us.

Discussion Questions:
1.) What, for you, depicts that distance between God and God, between the cross and the Resurrection?
2.) What is it that holds you back from journeying across that distance?
3.) For what are you waiting before you follow?

So go forth toward the Cross through a distance that God has already crossed!

Grace and Peace,

Shelli