
John 1:1-3, Genesis 1:1-5, John 1:9
In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was with God in the beginning.
Through Him, God created the heavens and the earth.
Now the earth was formless and empty, darkness was over the surface of the deep, and the Spirit of God was hovering over the waters. And God said, “Let there be Light,” and there was Light. God saw that the Light was good, and He separated the Light from the darkness. God called the Light “day,” and the darkness He called “night.” And there was evening, and there was morning — the first day.
The true Light that gives Light to every man had come into the world.
Not long after I posted the reflection The Holy Spirit and the Idea of Easter, I received an email from Father Jim at Holy Cross Parish asking if I would participate in the Lenten Vespers Series that he was planning. The Parish was already doing a series highlighting the seven themes of Catholic Social Teaching, and the Lenten Vesper Series would be an extension of that. Because I am a Franciscan, he has asked me to speak on the idea of Care for Creation in the past and he wanted me to do so again. Of course, I said yes.
In that reflection I wrote this concerning the outcome of Christ’s Passion and the meaning of the Victory of Easter:
The Light so prevalent in the readings for the Epiphany stands fulfilled. The Light of Advent and the Christmas season, the Light prophesied by Isaiah, the Light symbolized by the Star of Bethlehem, the Light proclaimed by John at the opening of his gospel, has proven itself indomitable and unconquerable.
The idea of Easter being the fulfillment of the prophecy and promise of Light was still very prominent in my thoughts when Father made his request. Immediately I found myself thinking about Creation in terms of Light, which in turn led me to the opening verses of Genesis.
Looking for inspiration, I opened my Bible to the first page. I was greeted by the story of the first day of Creation and the fact that the entire work of God on that first day was the Creation of Light. Now, looking at it from my very human perspective, it did not seem like the Creation of Light took an entire day. It seemed like it was instantaneous. God said, “let there be light,” and there was Light.
I know that God rested on the seventh day, but I found myself wondering, did He rest on the first day as well? Given the context, that seemed unlikely, so I began thinking, what was God doing for the remainder of that day? We are told “God saw that the light was good.” So maybe it was not exactly rest that He was caught up in. Perhaps, instead, He was caught up in contemplation of the goodness of Light?
God created Light in an instant, and then He took an entire day to consider the goodness of the Light which He created? Is that an idea that seems plausible?
Looking for more insight, I read these verses again, and again, and again. And I soon found myself dwelling on the words “In the beginning.” The significance of these words slowly began to dawn on me. (Pun completely intended!) Not only are they the opening words for all of Scripture, they are also the opening words of the Gospel of John. The first chapter of John was already swirling somewhere in my mind because of the references to Light it contains, so it was not difficult for me to conclude that the parallel between these two pieces of scripture was not coincidence.
When I opened the gospel of John, I found myself immediately making the synthesis of scripture that I present above. As I considered John’s assertion that the Word was present at the beginning, and that “through Him all things were made,” I began to have an inkling of what might have been happening on that first day.
I then went back to Genesis, and read this:
“The Spirit of God was hovering over the waters.”
This confirmed my suspicion. God did not spend the balance of that first day considering the goodness of Light by Himself. Instead, this contemplation was shared by the entire Trinity.
On that very first day, the Trinity was not only present but was in quiet and intense communion.
Now, the Trinity is not an easy concept to understand and accept, but one way to make some progress is to think of the Trinity as an idealized expression of the Love that our Creator desires us to live into. We are meant to be in community with God and each other, and the foundation of our communal living is meant to be Love. That Love is modeled for us perfectly in the Trinity. God as three is inseparable and understood as God as one because of the perfect and unqualified Love that unites the three into one, making them not only indivisible, but also seamlessly indistinguishable.
If the purpose of Creation is the expansion of Love, then it is fitting that the Trinity be there at the beginning, and it is fitting that on that first day, they spend their time in concentrated, continuous, extensive loving communion with one another. This means that the balance of that day was not spent in rest or even in contemplation. Instead, the Trinity spent the balance of that day working assiduously and ardently to infuse Light with the Love that is the essence of their relationship, and indeed the essence of Creation itself.
Light, then, can be understood first and foremost as a physical embodiment of the Love of the Trinity. Wherever and whenever we encounter Light, we should be reminded of the Love that the Creator expresses through His Creation. It makes obvious sense then, why, at the beginning of his gospel, John spoke of Jesus, who became the physical embodiment of God (who is Love) on earth through the Incarnation, in terms of Light.
———
This idea of Light as Love then becomes a superlative expression of the physical turning we experience as our earthly days unfold. God separates Light from darkness and He calls Light “day,” and darkness “night.” And the first day comes into being. We experience this movement from light to darkness to light, from day to night to day, as a fundamental underpinning of our daily existence.
How then, did the second day start? The same way that every one of our days starts, that is, with the Light rising. The sun (Son) rises and the light (Light) expresses the Glory of Creation as it makes its appearance. If we understand Light to be a physical manifestation of Love, then each day is seen to start with a renewal of the Love that God expressed in His original act of Creation. More than a renewal, it is a sustaining of that Love. We know that if the sun were to be extinguished, life would be extinguished as well. Physically, we are completely and utterly dependent on the light of the sun for our physical survival, just as spiritually we are completely and utterly dependent on the Light (Love) of the Son for our spiritual well being.
But of course, it is not so much renewal or sustenance as continuance, because we also know that as the earth revolves on its axis, the sun (Son) is continually rising. Every moment of every day, inch by inch, the surface of the earth experiences the rising of the sun (Son). Light (Love) is always appearing in the world, and it has been since the very first day that God spoke it into being.
This means that Light (Love) is continually being renewed and sustained and revealed. In the past I have written about how Jesus continually comes into the world via the Mass. At every moment of every day, somewhere on the planet, Mass is being celebrated and the Passion and sacrifice of Christ is being continued and renewed as He enters the world and is offered up for our sins by the Priest as part of the Eucharist celebration.
Jesus, in the greatest act of Love imaginable, is always offering Himself up for our redemption.
It is only fitting, then, that He is also always rising. While He never ceases His sacrifice for us, He also never ceases being triumphant for us. The continual appearance of the rising sun (Son) is a continual reenactment of the eternal and everlasting victory He won via His Resurrection. And this is, of course, a persistent and unceasing manifestation of the Love that God pronounced when He created each and every one of us.
It is no accident or coincidence that the word in English for that great ball of fire that sustains us is sun. It is also no accident or coincidence that we talk about the sun rising in the morning and the Son rising from the dead. These are expressions of the very meticulous plan for Creation that God had already devised when He created Light on the first day, and when, as the Trinity, He infused that Light with the Love that was the inspiration for his decision to Create in the first place.
(Yes, I am aware that this is an English language centric expression of the relationship between the sun rising and the Son rising. I understand some may see this as offensive and might be inclined to suggest that I would be better off to delete that last paragraph. I hope this does not take away from the balance of what I am suggesting.
Perhaps the reason the correlation happens in English is because the English speaking world needs this reminder the most?
And perhaps, as it seems likely that over time English will become more and more the dominant language for intercultural interaction across the planet, we can hope that this correlation will someday become a force for unity and peace on a planet that is desperately in need of such a potency?
If your first impulse is negative when you read that paragraph, I beg of you forgiveness. Please remember that what I am trying to express is the universality of the Love that is the driving force behind all of Creation. That universality of Love is particularly evident (in fact it reaches its climax) in the Creation of every single individual on the planet. The Light (Love) of that first day is present within each of us equally, from the most powerful to the most humble. Please, as you decide whether or not to forgive me, let that Light (Love) be the basis of your decision.)
———
Discussing Light within the context of Creation was the immediate impulse I had when Fr. Jim asked me to participate in his project. The above suggests that there was plenty of inspiration to be had by considering the two topics together.
But how, ultimately, does this tie into Catholic Social Teaching or the specific idea of Care for Creation?
When we remind ourselves that the purpose of Creation is the expansion of Love, I think the answer becomes evident.
At its most fundamental level, Care of Creation consists of participating in that expansion. Whenever our actions increase the amount of Love present in the world, we have successfully nurtured Creation. If, on the other hand, we do something that decreases or inhibits Love, then we have done harm to God’s Creation.
Theoretically, this is a straightforward notion. Practically, it is full of all sorts of uncertainty.
Which brings me to the real reason I did not delete the paragraph above. It gives me a concrete example that allows me to talk about the uncertainty that can quickly arise when we seek to implement our understanding of Catholic Social Teaching.
When we adopt moral convictions and seek to act upon them, it often forces us to take a side. We come to a conclusion about a certain teaching of the church and it causes us to disagree with many of those around us. When we become certain enough about our conclusions, it can cause us to dehumanize the opposition.
My paragraph about how the English words “sun” and “son” harken to each other can easily be seen as driving people to take sides. Some will take the side that the paragraph is insensitive to anyone whose first language is not English and thus might seek to condemn me for my position. Others might think my position reasonable, especially given the background arguments that led up to the paragraph, and they might be inclined to defend me or my position.
All of a sudden, we have two opposing sides, both of whom think themselves morally justified in their position, and both perhaps at least partially correct because of the complicated and nuanced nature of the conflict. If the convictions on each side are strong enough, then division results.
That division evolves like this: Someone disagrees with me and I believe myself to be on sound moral ground, therefore something must be wrong with them. If there is something wrong with them, their imperfection must be rooted in sinfulness. Sinfulness degrades and destroys their humanity, making them less. Because they are less, they are no longer worthy of my Love.
This dehumanization, however, is directly opposed to the Teaching we are seeking to uphold. At the root of all aspects of Catholic Social Teaching lies the perfect, unqualified, communal Love of the Trinity that was present and active starting on the very first day of Creation. This Love includes God’s ability to see beyond our sinfulness, forgive us, and Love us unconditionally anyway.
That absolute Love is at the heart of Jesus’ Passion and it is the central theme of the Victory of His Resurrection.
When we consider how to live out any aspect of Catholic Social Teaching, including the Care of Creation, every action we take must seek to live into this unbounded Love that is embodied by the Incarnation, Passion and Resurrection of Jesus.
In other words, we cannot properly follow Catholic Social Teaching without contributing to the expansion of Love in the world at the same time. This is fundamental to who we are meant and called to be. It must be ever present in our thoughts as we journey through this world, making our way to the home of our Father. (Article 11 of the Rule.)
- Are you inclined to think that my English centric paragraph about the words “sun” and “son” is insensitive to those who do not speak English as a first language? If so, how do you ensure that the amount of Love in the world is increased as you respond to or interact with me and those who agree with me?
- Are you inclined to think that those who find me insensitive are making a mountain out of a molehill and that my paragraph has merit even if some might react to it negatively? If so, how do you ensure that the amount of Love in the world is increased in how you respond to those who take issue with me?