"Relationship" with God

[Tab'le De'Bah-Rye]

Unsure i have a relationship with God or simply accept him as sovereign ruler of my life though i don't always obey, ask,receive and seek his will, i do a lot of asking,receiving and seeking his will for my life. Though i do believe i experience Gods presence unsure if it's a relationship in accordance with the human to human relationship, more like a human and the sunset, i just marvel and he displays.

Edited August 8, 2015 by Tab'le De'Bah-Rye

[Gabriela]

Praying with Scripture and treating prayer as a conversation with Jesus have helped me to development a personal relationship with the Lord and to recognize His voice. In His infinite love, the Lord wants to get to know each of us in the most intimate way possible. 

That's precisely what I'm asking: How do you treat prayer as a "conversation" when God doesn't (usually) "take his turn"?

 

I would say it depends on how you think God communicates, impacts and influences your life in the first place. How does he relate to you, and vice versa?  Personally,  I don't see God as aloof or simply 'out there'. I see God as close to me -  like my breath, the wind and the sun -  simply present (being and doing) regardless of whether I notice or not.  I don't see God as 'other' in the sense that I don't relate to him in a subject - object narrative or as something confined by human thoughts or concepts. So I see God in nature, people, scripture, literature, art, daily miracles, suffering, sacraments, mass (virtually everything). The Benedictine tradition sort of sees the Bible as divine poetry -  I love that idea. I believe God works to bring us, using all things, towards a spirit of love and creativity -  so we can be more compassionate, forgiving, understanding, humble, grateful etc. He is at the ground of all being.

The whole writing of scriptures is rooted in various communities, trying or failing, to seek and discover that relationship with God and eachother.  It requires lots of listening and patience. I think we have these same patterns in our own individual lives. Scripture, the church and others can help us see this too.  I think I, maybe along with most people, can often try and perceive God with the mind (which is OK, most of us are rational beings) but we also need to ground ourselves in the spirit of him that calls us to life.

I would say the relationship is as complicated as we make it.  My relationship is one where, even if I get tired and fed up, I still feel the promptings that shows me God is still there and wanting to lift me up and out to better things. Study, prayer and silent time cultivates that inner conscience and diallogue. I've had those warm glow feelings, the inner hug, the tears when praying etc and I always come back, especially through prayer, to the thought of simplicity.

I try to keep the relationship as free of distractions and ideas, instead rooted in daily life. How was God working through me today? How did God talk to me today? What words, feelings and ideas come to me through prayer and meditation? How has God changed me from the inside out? Have I been open to God changing my heart? It means answering questions too - should I be doing this or why do I keep doing this?

This is all the bread and butter of what is the relationship element for me - really, i guess at the root, trying to always see the reality that God is always there for me, even if I ain't.  The human struggle, at least for me practically, is also accepting that love requires sacrifice (always) and that we, like Jesus, have to face the cross before we can be made anew in him

Language can complicate things (it, like thought or concepts, can only point to divinity afterall), but hopefully you understand what I'm getting at

This reminds me a lot of what Marshall McLuhan said about faith, that it's a percept (i.e., a sense, like sight, hearing, taste, smell), rather than a concept. That blew my mind when I first read it. I totally understood. I still understand it, on an intellectual level, and because I've had that experience of "seeing" God in things where other people "see" nothing. Those are moments I know there's a relationship. But most of the time, it's hard to see that, and it feels like I'm over here trying to have a relationship with an absent party.

 

This is just one story - we each have our own.

I 'knew' God for years without having any experiential relationship. But I lived near a small church that had an Adoration room for anyone to go in at any time (obviousy a trusting parish but then it was a small community). I was going through a particularly bad time personally so I spent every day in the Adoration room alone with Jesus. Like Nihil said, spiritual stillness is the key to hearing God.

Then, during this same time of crisis, I was driving home from a meeting with my SD, who had just told me that I needed to develop and deep and personal relationship with Jesus. He said, 'You need to fall in love with Him.'

On the drive home, I was pondering what my SD had said but was having problems understanding what he meant (too intellectual I suppose). I pulled the car over to a spot where I could park and turned it off. I just sat there for awhile and started talking to Jesus as if He were there with me in the car. I said, 'Jesus, Father Paul says I have to have a deep personal relationship with you.He said I have to fall in love with you. But I don't know how to do that. Will you do it for me, please?'

As I sat there, I was filled with the most amazing sense of presence, as if Jesus actually were a human being, sitting in the car with me.But He wasn't just beside me, He was also descending upon me and filling me from the inside out. The feeling was so overwhelming that I started sobbing. It was the presence of sheer beauty and love. Words make it sound small. But that one moment changed my life forever. Since that time, my relationship with God has always felt personal, and defined through Jesus. I haven't always had the same experience of His presence, and sometimes I have almost felt that it was lost, but simply sitting in quiet and speaking with Him again, and then letting Him do the rest, well, I can say that the 'presence' of Jesus is a very real thing for me. He is closer to me than some 'real' people in my life.

My first SD told me exactly the same thing, and I've been trying ever since. Which brings me to...

 

"Beloved, let us love one another; for love is of God, and he who loves is born of God and knows God. He who does not love does not know God; for God is love. In this the love of God was made manifest among us, that God sent his only Son into the world, so that we might live through him...No man has ever seen God; if we love one another, God abides in us and his love is perfected in us...[H]e who does not love his brother whom he has seen, cannot love God whom he has not seen." - 1 John 4:7-9, 12, 20.

For me the answer is contained in this Bible passage, in which the epistle-writer links love for your neighbour so powerfully and so clearly with the Incarnation itself. The key to a relationship with God lies in our relationships with each other. "No man has ever seen God." But through loving our neighbour God is made manifest.

Some of my most profound encounters with God have been during my everyday work in a psychiatric hospital, when I was rushed off my feet and had hardly any time for private prayer. The spirituality of my secular institute revolves around Nazareth, Jesus' thirty hidden years, when he lived the busy everyday life of a carpenter. When Jesus finally began to preach, his neighbours were astounded and rattled: wasn't this just some ordinary guy? God had been with them the whole time and they never saw it. It is the same with us. We are challenged to seek and love that hidden Jesus in our own humdrum lives. In the middle of one long Saturday shift, I remember sitting with an elderly lady with dementia, praying the Our Father with her as she drifted into her afternoon nap, and hearing, "When two or three are gathered in my name..." His presence was near-palpable. Most of the time I did not have any special spiritual feeling of closeness to Christ, and it hit me with a jolt that I am just like the people of Nazareth - he's there all the time, but I hardly notice anything about him. If I had deeper love for the people around me, I would notice more and more. I had volunteered to work 1:1 with that particular lady because she was a very demanding patient and the other staff were talking about her as though she were a big inconvenience, and I felt sorry - I wanted her to feel loved and respected, even though she often tired me out too. I think that choice unlocked the door and it temporarily swung open to show me whom I was really looking after. I was sick and you came to see me...

Mother Teresa used to pray that in the broken bread that is Christ's body she would learn to recognise him "in the distressing disguise of the poorest of the poor". I think this works both ways: in loving service to each other, especially the most broken, we gain a greater devotion for the Real Presence in the Eucharist and a more profound understanding for what that means in our lives. The two things nurture one another: prayer before Jesus in the tabernacle, and attentiveness to our neighbour.

I've always interpreted that passage as working the other way around: If you love others, it is an outward sign that you love God, and God is in you. I think that woundedness—lack of love in one's life—makes it difficult for one to receive and give love. Experiencing the love of God deeply and continuously can heal that wound so that one may then freely share that same love with others. But without that deep, continuous experience of God's love, the individual remains wounded and cannot love others. Do you know what I mean?

In such a case, how does one come to a deep, continuous experience of God's love? I know, I know: "Ask for it, and He'll give it." I've asked, and am still asking, but...  

It probably just sounds like I'm in a dry period here. But that's not what I intended to resolve with this thread. The original question sought more of an intellectual understanding of how we construe what we have with God as a "relationship" when it doesn't fit our usual usage of that term.

Edited August 8, 2015 by Gabriela

[Anomaly]

Pretty much a relationship with God as a person, is whatever you want to make believe in the deafening silence.  A change in the static is Him talking, the absence is Him listening.   Or you just aren't worthy or doing it right.   Or you belong to the wrong religion are aren't chosen.  But what does it matter in how you live your life today?  

Aren't there enough people you can sanely see, touch, hurt, comfort, be hurt, be comforted, all around you that a relationship matters?   Does trying to understand Mother Teresa's "relationship" with God enlighten you more than trying to understand her relationships with fellow humans?   "If" there is a "God" that is on a vastly different plane of existence that almost no humans will or have experienced, it seems pointless to ignore what is for what never will be.

[beatitude]

I've always interpreted that passage as working the other way around: If you love others, it is an outward sign that you love God, and God is in you. I think that woundedness—lack of love in one's life—makes it difficult for one to receive and give love. Experiencing the love of God deeply and continuously can heal that wound so that one may then freely share that same love with others. But without that deep, continuous experience of God's love, the individual remains wounded and cannot love others. Do you know what I mean?

In such a case, how does one come to a deep, continuous experience of God's love? I know, I know: "Ask for it, and He'll give it." I've asked, and am still asking, but...  

It probably just sounds like I'm in a dry period here. But that's not what I intended to resolve with this thread. The original question sought more of an intellectual understanding of how we construe what we have with God as a "relationship" when it doesn't fit our usual usage of that term.

I think the passage I quoted goes both ways - love for God and love for neighbour are symbiotic. God invites us into that ever-flowing circle in different ways: for me it is usually through care of others, prayer in silence, and art (especially poetry).

I don't see my relationship with God as separate from my relationship with other people, so I don't experience it as something totally different and strange. He is present in our interactions with others. For me this is the meaning of the Incarnation. He came to us in human form so that we might all "see the face of God and live", but as he still goes against our expectations - "so disfigured did he look" - it is difficult for us to recognise him. For me this is a great gesture of love: in challenging me to see Christ in people whose situations are frightening and whom it may be difficult to have patience with, God helps me to understand that my own uglinesses and weaknesses and all the things that distress me so much about myself are no barrier to his love for me. I remember meeting someone who had committed war crimes and feeling so disgusted that I didn't know how I could show him any Christian compassion, so I prayed, "God, I don't love him. Show me something to love in him." God has never failed to answer that prayer, and if I can learn to love difficult people - me, with all my biases and prejudices and faults - then how much more must God love me? Often we are oblivious to God's love for us because our own distaste for ourselves gets in the way. Being compassionate to others leads to greater gentleness with self, so we no longer unconsciously treat ourselves as unworthy or feel sceptical at the idea of the divine love.

However, although God's love is not totally different and strange, there is a strangeness to it - because there is so much about him that we can't penetrate. There is a beautiful poem by R.S. Thomas, an Anglican vicar, that I love very much and that has become a prayer for me:

Why no! I never thought other than
That God is that great absence
In our lives, the empty silence
Within, the place where we go
Seeking, not in hope to
Arrive or find. He keeps the interstices
In our knowledge, the darkness
Between stars. His are the echoes
We follow, the footprints he has just
Left. We put our hands in
His side hoping to find
It warm. We look at people
And places as though he had looked
At them, too; but miss the reflection.

That image of 'the darkness between stars' haunts me. So does the idea of seeking without arriving or finding - it reminds me of the Song of Songs, and St Teresa's comment that, "Still the feeling remains that God is on the journey too." This sense of God as mysterious and remote (and at the same time very, very near, his footprints still fresh) coexists with the intimate knowledge of him that we can gain through care of one another, especially the vulnerable people with whom Christ identified himself so deeply. For me there is something holy and fiery in the tension between the two. That tension reminds me of just how great he is, and I think this is the closest our finite minds can come to grasping his infinity - through feeling the tension.

I do not always have a warm fuzzy feeling of Jesus' love. Often there is no feeling at all. But there is an awareness. In The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe, when the children are sad that Aslan has gone away, or appears to have gone away, another character explains, "He'll be coming and going. One day you'll see him and another you won't. It's quite all right...He's wild, you know. Not like a tame lion." I've always liked that.

I'll pray for you, but I don't get the sense that you're in a dry place, more that you're unsure of what direction you should be taking. I might be wrong, but prayers all the same.

[MarysLittleFlower]

I don't think we would have a continuous experience of God's love until at least the transforming union lol. Most do not however we can believe in His love. I think the more we are generous in following Him, the more we love Him, the more we eventually know Him - but there could still be dry periods. 

"That's precisely what I'm asking: How do you treat prayer as a "conversation" when God doesn't (usually) "take his turn"?"

Sometimes He takes His turn not by speaking but acting in us

I think as we do more mental prayer it becomes more obvious over time?

[HopefulHeart]

That's precisely what I'm asking: How do you treat prayer as a "conversation" when God doesn't (usually) "take his turn"?

Unfortunately, I don't have the spiritual wisdom to give a full answer to your question. I'm still taking baby steps (and sometimes crawling) in my relationship with Jesus. Yes, God often remains silent, but He is always present. The more we become aware of His presence and bask in His presence, both in vocal/mental prayer and in attentive silence, the more we enable ourselves to hear His voice. In my experience, God speaks very often, but it's taken a lot of time, trust, and listening for me to hear Him. I really came to hear Him more when I meditated on expressions of His love in Scripture and found my faith becoming an affair of the heart as well as of the mind.

I treat prayer as a conversation just by beginning to talk to Jesus. "Jesus, today I'm feeling sad." "Jesus, thank you for helping me with this task." "This flower is beautiful, Jesus!" Then, I remain attentive to my heart and mind and listen to how God may be responding. His response could be words, an insight, a feeling, a moment of self-knowledge, or something else. It's hard to describe, yet I know when He responds. And if He doesn't respond, then I simply remain in His presence and trust that He's listening (sometimes easier said than done).

Of course, this is all based on my own experiences. God could be calling you to a different type of relationship with Him. Definitely pray to the Holy Spirit for guidance.

[Credo in Deum]

In such a case, how does one come to a deep, continuous experience of God's love? I know, I know: "Ask for it, and He'll give it." I've asked, and am still asking, but...  

 

You could be receiving exactly what you ask for, it's just not living up to your expectations.  In my own spiritual life I noticed the temptation to foist my own outlook and expectations of how I think things should be, including what constitutes a perfect relationship with Christ.  Then I heard a nun talk about her own spiritual life and how she notices herself holding on to her own expectations of how Christ operates, converses, and interacts with her, and even her own mental images of what Christ looks like.  She said these were so much a part of her that to let them go would be a death to herself.  Yet she said seeing this was a huge grace from God and that she knew she had to empty herself of these things and let Chrsit reveal Himself to Her, and to pray for the grace to be open to this reception.  

Then I thought to myself, isn't this what we do when we receive Christ in the Blessed Sacrament? Don't we have to let go of our own expectations in order to accept that God Himself willed to come to us in the Blessed Sacrament?! That God said, "I will reveal and give Myself, fully and completely, to them under the accidents of Bread and Wine", I mean what human being in the history of humanity would have said or thought that God could or would reveal and give Himself to us in this way?  It's so perfectly humble, mysterious, and fantastic only God could have done it.  The very humility of it attacks straight to the pride of our hearts!  The pride in thinking we can make the perfect spiritual life, when the reality is the spiritual life only starts to live in us when we die to ourselves.  God cannot fill your heart with Himself if you are already filled up with your own expectations. 

Lastly love cannot always be experienced.  We are children of God.  Our ability and capacity to experience all of God's love, all the time, is not possible in this life.  Just as how a baby cannot fully fathom or experience the intensity of love the parents have for them.  It is beyond the baby's capacity to comprehend this and thus beyond their ability to experience their parents love perfectly and continuously.  Yet just because the baby does not have this ability, does not mean the parents stop loving them with the same intensity.  As the baby grows and pushes past the times of feeling alone and unloved, they will, one day, become an adult and come to understand and experience fully the reality of their parent's unconditional love for them. 

[Nunsense]

That's precisely what I'm asking: How do you treat prayer as a "conversation" when God doesn't (usually) "take his turn"?

 

This reminds me a lot of what Marshall McLuhan said about faith, that it's a percept (i.e., a sense, like sight, hearing, taste, smell), rather than a concept. That blew my mind when I first read it. I totally understood. I still understand it, on an intellectual level, and because I've had that experience of "seeing" God in things where other people "see" nothing. Those are moments I know there's a relationship. But most of the time, it's hard to see that, and it feels like I'm over here trying to have a relationship with an absent party.

 

My first SD told me exactly the same thing, and I've been trying ever since. Which brings me to...

 

I've always interpreted that passage as working the other way around: If you love others, it is an outward sign that you love God, and God is in you. I think that woundedness—lack of love in one's life—makes it difficult for one to receive and give love. Experiencing the love of God deeply and continuously can heal that wound so that one may then freely share that same love with others. But without that deep, continuous experience of God's love, the individual remains wounded and cannot love others. Do you know what I mean?

In such a case, how does one come to a deep, continuous experience of God's love? I know, I know: "Ask for it, and He'll give it." I've asked, and am still asking, but...  

It probably just sounds like I'm in a dry period here. But that's not what I intended to resolve with this thread. The original question sought more of an intellectual understanding of how we construe what we have with God as a "relationship" when it doesn't fit our usual usage of that term.

Gabriela - I'm not sure anyone can give you an answer that will satisfy you, simply because each one of us has to find our own experience of, and relationship with, God. As for the 'finding God in others', I have never been able to do that. I have worked as a psychiatric nurse and a teacher and with abused children and in a variety of others self-giving experiences, and quite enjoyed doing it most of the time too, but I didn't experience God personally or develop a relationship with Him because of, or even through those experiences.

In fact, I find it hard to see God in quite a lot of people. Whatever the reason, I find it much easier to be with Him alone and then go out and 'try' to be with others in the love that He has given to me. But if I don't find Him first within myself, then I have nothing to give anyone else. I honestly have no love of my own. I can feel love when I am with people who are close to me, like my family, but it doesn't seem to be my love, it is more a shared thing happening between us. Maybe that's what happens with me and God too, we love each other, and that's what I feel. I don't know.

I understand that some people think of my relationship with God as being a fantasy, like loving the 'invisible man' or 'Casper the ghost', but it's real for me, and that's all that matters to me. And maybe that's also why it's almost impossible to describe, to understand or even to 'get' really. It is what it is. And it wasn't there for a long time, and then one day it was, and has been ever since. 

Another thing that happens is that people try to put labels on what they experience. Do I experience transforming union? Do I experience any kind of union? What does it matter what I call it or what anyone else calls it. I experience something that feels like a presence, fills my heart, gives me joy and peace, and makes me feel loved beyond anything I could ever have imagined. What more matters? If it isn't union, it's good enough for me.

It does seem that the more one literally NEEDS to have a relationship with God, the more likely it is that it will happen. My need was greater than even I knew, but the 'woundedness' as you call it, or pain or suffering or whatever it is that drives one into a desperate search for God, also seems to create the emptiness inside that makes it possible for Him to take up residence. I don't think that 'manufactured suffering' (whipping oneself, other created penances) works quite as well in this matter as real, honest to God, need help with life, suffering. It's as if God is always waiting for us to welcome Him into our hearts, but it isn't until we are left with nothing at all that we realize how much we need to know Him intimately.

So, as far as I am concerned, it comes back down to what Jesus said,  "Ask and it will be given to you; seek and you will find; knock and the door will be opened to you."

 -- but not in a "gee, that would be nice to have" kind of way, but in a really, really, really deep, "I can't live without You, if You don't answer me, I will die." kind of way.

Anyway, that could all be nonsense, but it's my own experience. For someone else, the path might be totally different. I needed desperately to have a relationship with Jesus, I asked, and He responded completely beyond any reasonableness. Just don't stop asking, is all the advice I can really give, I guess. He IS there. 

As for having an intellectual understanding of a relationship that doesn't fit our usual usage of the term - maybe that's the problem. Relationships are about love and that isn't really something that's can be grasped intellectually. A relationship is the connection between the parties. There are different ways for people to experience or express that connection, and maybe sometimes it does seem as if the 'invisible friend' isn't making much of a connection or doesn't seem present, but that's just our perception. He is always there. Maybe sometimes we just can't connect at our end? Don't know. Just some ideas.

[Gabriela]

Gabriela - I'm not sure anyone can give you an answer that will satisfy you, simply because each one of us has to find our own experience of, and relationship with, God. As for the 'finding God in others', I have never been able to do that. I have worked as a psychiatric nurse and a teacher and with abused children and in a variety of others self-giving experiences, and quite enjoyed doing it most of the time too, but I didn't experience God personally or develop a relationship with Him because of, or even through those experiences.

In fact, I find it hard to see God in quite a lot of people. Whatever the reason, I find it much easier to be with Him alone and then go out and 'try' to be with others in the love that He has given to me. But if I don't find Him first within myself, then I have nothing to give anyone else. I honestly have no love of my own. I can feel love when I am with people who are close to me, like my family, but it doesn't seem to be my love, it is more a shared thing happening between us. Maybe that's what happens with me and God too, we love each other, and that's what I feel. I don't know.

I understand that some people think of my relationship with God as being a fantasy, like loving the 'invisible man' or 'Casper the ghost', but it's real for me, and that's all that matters to me. And maybe that's also why it's almost impossible to describe, to understand or even to 'get' really. It is what it is. And it wasn't there for a long time, and then one day it was, and has been ever since. 

Another thing that happens is that people try to put labels on what they experience. Do I experience transforming union? Do I experience any kind of union? What does it matter what I call it or what anyone else calls it. I experience something that feels like a presence, fills my heart, gives me joy and peace, and makes me feel loved beyond anything I could ever have imagined. What more matters? If it isn't union, it's good enough for me.

It does seem that the more one literally NEEDS to have a relationship with God, the more likely it is that it will happen. My need was greater than even I knew, but the 'woundedness' as you call it, or pain or suffering or whatever it is that drives one into a desperate search for God, also seems to create the emptiness inside that makes it possible for Him to take up residence. I don't think that 'manufactured suffering' (whipping oneself, other created penances) works quite as well in this matter as real, honest to God, need help with life, suffering. It's as if God is always waiting for us to welcome Him into our hearts, but it isn't until we are left with nothing at all that we realize how much we need to know Him intimately.

So, as far as I am concerned, it comes back down to what Jesus said,  "Ask and it will be given to you; seek and you will find; knock and the door will be opened to you."

 -- but not in a "gee, that would be nice to have" kind of way, but in a really, really, really deep, "I can't live without You, if You don't answer me, I will die." kind of way.

Anyway, that could all be nonsense, but it's my own experience. For someone else, the path might be totally different. I needed desperately to have a relationship with Jesus, I asked, and He responded completely beyond any reasonableness. Just don't stop asking, is all the advice I can really give, I guess. He IS there. 

As for having an intellectual understanding of a relationship that doesn't fit our usual usage of the term - maybe that's the problem. Relationships are about love and that isn't really something that's can be grasped intellectually. A relationship is the connection between the parties. There are different ways for people to experience or express that connection, and maybe sometimes it does seem as if the 'invisible friend' isn't making much of a connection or doesn't seem present, but that's just our perception. He is always there. Maybe sometimes we just can't connect at our end? Don't know. Just some ideas.

I can relate deeply to much of what you said here, and I appreciate your honesty and frankness. Thank you, nunsense, for taking the time to write this. 

[Kia ora]

i don't feel God. i feel other people. god is other people (although he is not really other people). 

 

‘When the Son of Man comes in his glory, and all the angels with him, then he will sit on the throne of his glory. All the nations will be gathered before him, Aand he will separate people one from another as a shepherd separates the sheep from the goats, and he will put the sheep at his right hand and the goats at the left.

 

Then the king will say to those at his right hand, “Come, you that are blessed by my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world; for I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you welcomed me, I was naked and you gave me clothing, I was sick and you took care of me, I was in prison and you visited me.”

 

Then the righteous will answer him, “Lord, when was it that we saw you hungry and gave you food, or thirsty and gave you something to drink? And when was it that we saw you a stranger and welcomed you, or naked and gave you clothing? And when was it that we saw you sick or in prison and visited you?”

 

And the king will answer them, “Truly I tell you, just as you did it to one of the least of these who are members of my family, you did it to me.”Then he will say to those at his left hand, “You that are accursed, depart from me into the eternal fire prepared for the devil and his angels; for I was hungry and you gave me no food, I was thirsty and you gave me nothing to drink, I was a stranger and you did not welcome me, naked and you did not give me clothing, sick and in prison and you did not visit me.”

 

Then they also will answer, “Lord, when was it that we saw you hungry or thirsty or a stranger or naked or sick or in prison, and did not take care of you?” Then he will answer them, “Truly I tell you, just as you did not do it to one of the least of these, you did not do it to me.” And these will go away into eternal punishment, but the righteous into eternal life.’

reminds me of what st. augustine says here. my translation. original text here. excuse st augustine's non-gender inclusive language. 

Let no one say : I do not know what to love. Let him love his brother and let him love that same Love; for he knows better the Love with which he loves more than his brother whom he loves. Behold, how he is already able to know god more than his brother, better known by far because more present, better known because inside him, better known because more certain. Embrace Love who is God, and embrace God with love. This is love which brings together all good angels and all good servants of god in a bond of holiness, and unites us and them in turn, and yokes us to itself. Therefore, the more we are cured of the swelling up of pride, the more we are full of love. and the person who is full of love, what are they full of except of God?

He [st. John] most openly says in that epistle a little after this in this way :

Beloved, let us love in response to each other, because love is from God, and all who loves, is born of God, and knows God. He who does not love does not know God, because God is love. This confluence of texts makes known clearly and to satisfaction that it is preached by the highest authority that this very brotherly love (for brotherly love is the love by which we love in response) not only comes from God, but is also God Himself. 

So when we love our brother with love, we love our brother from God; and it beggars belief to think that we don’t love especially that same love by which we love our brother. From this fact it can be gathered that these two commandments [to love God and to love our neighbour] cannot exist unless interchangeably. Since God is indeed love, he surely loves God who loves love; but the person who loves his brother must necessarily love love.

It’s for this reason that a little afterwards, he says : he who does not love his brother who he sees, cannot love God who he does not see. Because this is the reason for not seeing God: that he does not love his brother. For he who does not love his brother, is not in love, and he who is not in love, is not in God, because God is love. Moreover, he who is not in God, is not in the light because God is light, and there is no darkness in Him. So is it any wonder that a person who is not in the light does not see light, that is, does not see God, because he is in the darkness?

He sees his brother with the human sight with which he is unable to see God. But if a person loved with spiritual love his brother whom he sees with his human sight, he would see God, who is Love itself, by means of the inner sight by which God can be seen. So he who does not love his brother whom he sees, how could he love God, whom he does not see, because God is the very love that is missing from the one who doesn’t love his brother? We should not let the question of how much love we ought to weigh out to our brother disturb us, or the question of how much we should weigh out to God. For we should give as much love to our brother as we give ourselves, but that love we give ourselves, we should give much more than that to God. Therefore, from the same one love, we love God and our neighbour, but we love God for God’s sake, and ourselves and our neighbour for God’s sake. 

st augustine de trinitate 8.12

[MarysLittleFlower]

I feel the same way as Nunsense in feeling a need for a relationship with God and that might have developed through some woundedness from my past - in which case I'm glad God used it in that way. I think the penances don't create this inner need as much as suffering we are sent, but they can be more for the time we already know Jesus? I dont know.

Anyway I know many people experience God through other people..  I like that and I've had moments where I looked at someone and thought of God and how He sees them, and He has for sure worked through other people in my life. But the centre of my relationship with Jesus has always been more in my heart - even if a particular time I was aware of Him, was related to Him working through another person. If I don't spend time with Him, I don't tend to open up to Him interiorly just by spending time with others, rather I want to be alone and look for Him. So I guess the conclusion of all this is that souls are different... 

[Nunsense]

I feel the same way as Nunsense in feeling a need for a relationship with God and that might have developed through some woundedness from my past - in which case I'm glad God used it in that way. I think the penances don't create this inner need as much as suffering we are sent, but they can be more for the time we already know Jesus? I dont know.

So I guess the conclusion of all this is that souls are different... 

 

I haven't felt the least need to create artificial penances to become closer to God, especially since I became aware of His presence. I can understand the 'theory' behind these things and even the theological explanations (I was a Carmelite after all) but for me it would be trying to force something extra into a glass that was already full to overflowing. Maybe it's just that I've had enough suffering in my life to make such things unnecessary, I don't know. I'm just glad that it's all about love now and not penances.

I agree with your conclusion.  

 

[MarysLittleFlower]

That shows how souls are different but in other ways we're similar

Edited August 9, 2015 by MarysLittleFlower

[Nunsense]

That shows how souls are different but in other ways we're similar

Well we both love Jesus, that seems evident. Maybe I was more like you 30 years ago.

[MarysLittleFlower]

Lol that's OK. I think people are drawn to different spiritualities and some are drawn more to the Passion and others more to the joyful aspects, though there are always both of course! People prefer different approaches at different times in their life too. If someone is really drawn to reflecting on the Passion sometimes a desire for penance comes up. I don't do any of the extraordinary penances actually. I'm OK if others do if its done properly. When I meditate its either on Jesus' suffering, or His love. 

[Nunsense]

Lol that's OK. I think people are drawn to different spiritualities and some are drawn more to the Passion and others more to the joyful aspects, though there are always both of course! People prefer different approaches at different times in their life too. If someone is really drawn to reflecting on the Passion sometimes a desire for penance comes up. I don't do any of the extraordinary penances actually. I'm OK if others do if its done properly. When I meditate its either on Jesus' suffering, or His love. 

In spirituality I have always been a Carmelite, although I did check out a couple of Benedictine monasteries just to make sure. The Passion used to upset me so much (at the thought of Jesus being hurt), that I couldn't play the part of the crowd during the Easter scenarios when the congregation is expected to cry out, "Crucify Him!" 

I have done all the mortifications that 1990 Carmels do (having lived in one) and I'm not sorry I had the experiences, but I think I have just moved into a different relationship with Jesus now. It's similar in a way to St John of the Cross changing from writing about the Dark Night to writing about The Living Flame.He didn't then go back and want to be in a dark night of the soul again. But every person has their stages to go through and each one has its own value.

Edited August 9, 2015 by nunsense

[MarysLittleFlower]

interesing! For some reason poems like the Living Flame and other things about experiencing God's love drawn me more into thinking about the suffering Jesus and suffering for Him.. I'm not sure why. Its not something I connect to only the dark night purification sort of stuff. That's probably some personal difference, that's fine  i really like the spirituality of consoling Jesus which puts together the Passion and loving Him. But sometimes other things get emphasised. 

Haha I can relate about finding it hard to play the part of the crowd in the Easter triduum Masses. I'm in the choir and we have to sing the responses, and this year some of them I couldn't even sing!

This is an interesting thread!

Edited August 9, 2015 by MarysLittleFlower

[Nunsense]

interesing! For some reason poems like the Living Flame and other things about experiencing God's love drawn me more into thinking about the suffering Jesus and suffering for Him.. I'm not sure why. Its not something I connect to only the dark night purification sort of stuff. That's probably some personal difference, that's fine

Well, in the threes ages of the spiritual life (purgative, illuminative and unitive), active purification certainly is the focus of the purgative way, and it sounds as if this might be where you are coming from:

The purgative way, proper to beginners, in which it is a question of the active purification of the external and internal senses, of the passions, of the intellect, and of the will, by mortification, meditation, prayer; and finally, it is a question of the passive purification of the senses, in which infused contemplation begins and by means of which the soul is raised to the illuminative way, as St. John of the Cross says.

The illuminative way leads into more passive (rather than active mortifications) purification of the spirit (as opposed to the senses) which prepares one for the unitive way.

The unitive way focuses on the intimate union of the contemplative soul with God. In The Living Flame, St John was definitely writing about union with God and he talks about how the oppression is now over and the pain is not the pain of suffering anymore but the pain of pure light, beauty and love - a burning fire for the spirit. But I can see how a person who is still going through purgations might interpret it as suffering and then be drawn into thoughts about the suffering Jesus.

That's one of the great things about John - a person can take anything he writes and relate it to where they are at the moment.

Edited August 9, 2015 by nunsense

[MarysLittleFlower]

I'm probably in the purgative way for all I know (I try not to analyze) but I was trying to say that for me the suffering aspect is more about consoling Jesus than for purification, though that too - I'm sure I need to be purified of very much! I was speaking of penances hypothetically though - I don't do that type of corporal mortification but for me its more to do with sharing in the Passion out of love. That's kind of what I meant and also the suffering of longing for God. Anyway I'll stop there so I don't start describing all my spiritual life that's for spiritual direction  

[Lilllabettt]

I have not been reading all the threads you have posted in, MLF, because there are a ton of them, and I'd have to quit my job. 

But one thing I have noticed in what I have read: it seems like its getting to the point with some people that MLF can't post anything without getting some kind of rejoinder back.  

Could we all please try not constantly asserting our superiority vis-a-vis this chick. It's annoying.