Hope against hope.
Faith
Kierkegaard has forever tainted today’s first reading for me, the sacrifice of Abraham. The old translation of the text at least had the verse, “Abraham saddled his ass…” which sometimes provided a bit of comic relief in such a dreadful tale. (The text is now translated “donkey”, which may conjure up the character in Shrek for the faint of heart. I’m kidding.)
Of course the story ends well, God doesn’t permit Abraham to kill his son. As Christians we understand this passage as a wonderful prefigurement of the sacrifice of Jesus. Indeed, Abraham inadvertently prophesises the redemption when he consoles Isaac, “God himself will provide the sheep for the burnt offering.” While Isaac prefigures Christ bearing his cross, carrying the wood upon which the sacrifice is to be made. Aside from Abraham’s unique confession of faith, and the obedience of Isaac, this passage is both consoling and glorious in prefiguring the redemption.
The Kirkegaardian meditation upon Abraham’s trial of faith has always been much too dense for me. Nevertheless, at times I cannot help but feel enveloped in the awareness that faith is indeed darkness to the intellect. I am reminded of those who Little Therese said she joined, “at the table of sinners” in her trial of faith. Through this statement, she indicates the intensity of the darkness which enveloped her soul, sharing the exact same oblivion of those deprived of the consolation of faith, the agnostic, the atheist.
St. Therese
Of course St. Therese provides the antidote, which is the little way of childlike confidence and love. Most of us are too little to be able to bear such trials, while our intellects cannot even grasp the deepest mysteries of faith. Yet, in the midst of such anguish, it is precisely then our faith must take over, though our intellect, our emotions, and our senses rebel, even when everything we thought we knew, mocks us.
I think this may be the mystery of St. Therese’ devotion to the Holy Face of Jesus; that battered Face, silent, his eyes closed, in which she found such consolation and patience to endure her sufferings. Just so, the mystery contained in the first reading of today’s Mass, which is the prefigurement of the passion, death and resurrection of Christ, alleviates the heaviness in the narrative of the sacrifice of Abraham.
Trust
We must strive to hope against hope as it were, or as St. Claude prays, to “have confidence in our confidence”. Therese teaches that this way of faith is navigated by confidence and love - especially when we no longer ‘feel’ confident, and likewise no longer ‘feel’ love. It always needs to be a matter of the will, accompanied by patient endurance.
“He who dwells in the shelter of the Most High…says to the Lord: ‘My refuge, my stronghold, my God in whom I trust.’ It is He who will free you from the snare, from the fowler who seeks to destroy you…You will not fear the terror of the night, nor the arrow that flies by day, nor the plague that prowls in the darkness…Since he clings to Me in love, I will free him - protect him for he knows My Name.” - Psalm 90
When we are most tried in the difficult circumstances of life, it may be good to recall Job’s words, which St. Therese made her own, “Even if He should kill me, I will trust Him.”
Unlike the philosophers and theologians, Therese did not approach God with “fear and trembling”, rather her approach was one of confidence and love, often insisting that she preferred the darknesss of faith to everything else, when she stated, “I prefer not to see.”
Easier said than done however.
