Can we really prove that God exists?

A question I have had for well over a year now, and a question that I had the most delightful conversation with my Ryan about the other evening. One of those great conversations that you touch on a thousand subjects, like water flowing, winding its way around, light and sparkling. We touched on Aquinas and how most likely he has been misinterpreted, how you can win an “argument” but lose a soul and be far more poorer for “proving” something than if you had simply listened and loved.

A brilliant paragraph from Pope Francis’ homily today, Divine Mercy Sunday and the official proclamation of two new Pope saints, Saint John Paul II and St. John the XXIII made me stop and re-read it again and again. There truly is no need for big ponderous books, more often than not there is enough to be found in four or five sentences for one to think about for weeks. The paragraph is as follows:

 
The wounds of Jesus are a scandal, a stumbling block for faith, yet they are also the test of faith. That is why on the body of the risen Christ the wounds never pass away: they remain, for those wounds are the enduring sign of God’s love for us. They are essential for believing in God. Not for believing that God exists, but for believing that God is love, mercy and faithfulness. Saint Peter, quoting Isaiah, writes to Christians: “by his wounds you have been healed” (1 Pet 2:24, cf. Is 53:5).

“Not for believing that God exists, but for believing that God is love, mercy, and faithfulness.” Isn’t that beautiful? How much energy, resources, time, is spent on trying to prove God’s existence instead of bringing God’s mercy to a wounded people? We can argue Aquinas’ five proofs until we are blue in the face and have proved nothing except that we are an ass if we don’t first show love and mercy to those people who are in our lives and cross our paths. If we love as we ought, we should never have to rely on arguments. Doug can tell me all day long he loves me, but by ensuring that my vehicle always has a full tank of gas, he shows me love and mercy. He will never have to prepare an argument to prove his faithfulness.

I loved how Pope Francis didn’t slam St. Thomas the Apostle for needing to touch the wounds of Christ, he called St. Thomas a “straightforward man.” Can I just say how refreshing it was not to hear a single slam against St. Thomas today from anywhere or anyone? Our good Pope Francis goes on to say this about our two new saints:

“Saint John XXIII and Saint John Paul II were not afraid to look upon the wounds of Jesus, to touch his torn hands and his pierced side. They were not ashamed of the flesh of Christ, they were not scandalized by him, by his cross; they did not despise the flesh of their brother (cf. Is 58:7), because they saw Jesus in every person who suffers and struggles. These were two men of courage, filled with the parrhesia of the Holy Spirit, and they bore witness before the Church and the world to God’s goodness and mercy.”

I have a memory of Justin that keeps playing in my brain today. He had traveled with his youth group the summer before starting college at Franciscan to a very poverty stricken area of  Appalachia to do home repair. He was in pain from his feet and ankles. I remember when he came home he told me a story of spending time visiting with an elderly lady who loved cats. He said some of the other young people wouldn’t go into her house because it overwhelmingly smelled of cat urine. Justin shared with me how much he enjoyed visiting with her and talking to her about her cats. He chose the better part, he saw her true poverty, her poverty of isolation, of being cast aside, he was not afraid to touch her wounds and pierced side. I don’t know whether he spoke to her of Jesus, I just know that for that moment in time he was the face of Christ to a lonely old woman and her cats.

Cats loved Justin and would get as close to him as they could.
The cats loved Justin and would get as close to him as they could.

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Terri Written by:

I am a wife and mother of two sons. Our eldest, Justin, was killed in a car accident September 27, 2010, he was 25 years old.

One Comment

  1. Anne Madison
    April 27, 2014

    what a beautiful story

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