Hide and Seek
Today’s Responsorial Psalm and Gospel share a similar message, and being an English teacher, I am always on the lookout for obvious repetition. Both parts of the Liturgy of the Word communicate a theme of “seeking” God so that we may be “found” and answered, both texts reinforcing that the health of our relationships with God require action from both parties. In order for God to answer us, to assist us, to console or comfort us, we must take that first step and “seek” him out.
The response in the Responsorial Psalm addresses God, saying, “Lord, on the day I called for help, you answered me,” an affirmation that our trust in God is built on his dependable, consistent presence and responses to our prayers. Similarly, in the Gospel, Jesus instructs his disciples and reinforces the idea that God is constantly there, ready to answer the call whenever we take the first step of trying to find him: “Ask and it will be given to you; seek and you will find; knock and the door will be opened to you.” That’s it? That’s the transaction? All I have to do is ask? The modern cynic in me always looks for a catch in this rather straightforward contract that Jesus proposes, and I wonder why Jesus doesn’t require more.
However, upon reflection, I realize that the “catch” usually comes from me. In my busy daily life, juggling many responsibilities in a difficult school year, it is sometimes difficult to not even take that first step of “calling God for help” or “knocking” on his door. It is easy to forget that he is always there, and that his response not dependent on how infrequently or halfheartedly I take this first step to ask for help. As I discover the parallels between the Responsorial Psalm and the Gospel today, it’s like Jesus is repeating himself to me directly: “No, really… all you have to do is ask.”
Lent is often associated with the actions of stripping things down or taking extraneous things away to look at our lives more clearly. Last week, Adam Hauser encouraged us to “enter the desert of Lent.” This week, Alex Soich reflected on physical scarcity and the need for spiritual nourishment. For me, the first few weeks of Lent involve entering that desert and becoming aware of the insignificant, distracting things that have been filling up my daily life. After that first step, it’s easier to understand that Christ is right behind the door, that all I have to is knock. He has been there the whole time.
The response in the Responsorial Psalm addresses God, saying, “Lord, on the day I called for help, you answered me,” an affirmation that our trust in God is built on his dependable, consistent presence and responses to our prayers. Similarly, in the Gospel, Jesus instructs his disciples and reinforces the idea that God is constantly there, ready to answer the call whenever we take the first step of trying to find him: “Ask and it will be given to you; seek and you will find; knock and the door will be opened to you.” That’s it? That’s the transaction? All I have to do is ask? The modern cynic in me always looks for a catch in this rather straightforward contract that Jesus proposes, and I wonder why Jesus doesn’t require more.
However, upon reflection, I realize that the “catch” usually comes from me. In my busy daily life, juggling many responsibilities in a difficult school year, it is sometimes difficult to not even take that first step of “calling God for help” or “knocking” on his door. It is easy to forget that he is always there, and that his response not dependent on how infrequently or halfheartedly I take this first step to ask for help. As I discover the parallels between the Responsorial Psalm and the Gospel today, it’s like Jesus is repeating himself to me directly: “No, really… all you have to do is ask.”
Lent is often associated with the actions of stripping things down or taking extraneous things away to look at our lives more clearly. Last week, Adam Hauser encouraged us to “enter the desert of Lent.” This week, Alex Soich reflected on physical scarcity and the need for spiritual nourishment. For me, the first few weeks of Lent involve entering that desert and becoming aware of the insignificant, distracting things that have been filling up my daily life. After that first step, it’s easier to understand that Christ is right behind the door, that all I have to is knock. He has been there the whole time.
Author: Chris Patterson, English Department
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