When the path of the earth was an empty road, he traced its course in deep space. Before the quarry of his matter began to form, he imagined its dimensions. He was already shining, before the first rays of the Sun escaped his boiling and tormented atmosphere. He illuminated the first abysses before they were explored, declaring the brightness,. I lit up before the first look on earth to see. And even the eyes of those who accompanied him on the first day “comprehended the light, for it was bright ”
He was already the life and the light of the uninhabited worlds. His footprints were already in the desolate places where the rain formed the embryos of mighty rivers. Before any creature was born, his spirit walked through the wild solitudes of our world in gestation. Before any ship or creature sailed the seas ” and his Spirit moved upon the face of the water”
He manifested the first faith by calling light and turning a dark place into a blue world. The first hope that he raised his sight in this world to imagine, was his. The first charity, conceived, perhaps when looking at the place of Golgotha, when it still struggled to get out of the incandescent lava, was his.
When there were no men on earth he already knew his creatures, he counted them because they were his . Then the music was not on the earth, nor voices that accompanied it. But the birds sang with the voice that he gave them, yes, the elephant was barking, the owl hooted and the whinny of the horse was heard, swift in the field. Not one of them fell to the ground without his knowledge. Everyone knew him as the God of this world.
The great I Am
He is the light that comes from the presence of God and fills the vastness of space. And yet it enlightens us, in a lost corner of the wide expanse , if we want to see. Such is its condescension that it is not only “the true light that lighteth every man that comes into the world;” but it [ that quickeneth us in our affairs, illuminating our eyes, and vivifying our understanding,]
the Great I Am, the carpenter’s son, “The same one who contemplate the wide expanse of eternity” was born in a manger and the one who was honored ” all the seraphic hosts of heaven before the world was made” called fishermen to do their work. “The one who [spake] , and the world was made” did not answer a word to false testimony against him. And yet the earth and everything about it … yes, and also all the planets … testify of it.
He who longed for the glory that he had [with his Father] before the world was, was stripped of his clothes and crowned with thorns with a scepter like a scepter. That is why “he ascended up on high, as also he descended below all things, in that he comprehended all things” even those by which he trembled because of pain and bled from every pore and suffered, both in body and in spirit
Being he, God, the greatest of all, invites us to learn from him, that he is meek and humble of heart. That is why it is the alpha and the omega of all pain and suffering. Nobody can teach him any sorrow he does not know or demand justice that he has not fulfilled.
Give life to all things
Being the Son of God, they knew him as the carpenter’s son. The great Jehovah, the creator of the earth, provided the foxes with lairs and nesting birds, but the Son of Man had nowhere to lay his head . Only in his death did he have a ” new tomb , which had been carved in the rock”
Jesus Christ, who walked by “a paved work of pure gold, in color like amber.,” was born in a stable and lived in a home in Galilee. His life is threatened from his birth, however he is the light that exists in all things, that gives life to all things. And being his light the law by which all things are governed, he was judged and sentenced in darkness by those whom he enlightened from his childhood.
So we, igniting our sparks , ask for explanations in the light that fills the Universe. Preferring the fire of a splinter to light us in the darkness and the sparks of men to the penetrating light that gives life to all things . Sitting in our chair, we pointed out the contradictions of his work and yet He calculated the Earth, so there is enough and enough for everyone .
We reproach you for allowing injustice and our trials. To him, the greatest of all, to tremble because of pain, and to bleed at every pore, and to suffer both body and spirit all our trials and every injustice we claim. Even so, the Father so loved the world that he allowed in Gethsemane that the press of expiation draw his blood for every pore of his body. Therefore, if a word we can say is forgiveness, and only on our knees can we be in his presence.
The gift received
In the large and spacious building, not everyone is invited. Most grope for the glory of Solomon. You have to dress and be as ordered by the label. But not even they can dress like the lilies of the field that he did .
In front of that place there is a tree, it is the love of God, which sheddeth itself abroad in the hearts of the children of men . He is our Savior. But we thought Oh this farmer God, always digging and pruning in my soul! Then we yearn to be wild.
We clumsily consider his commandments as prohibitions. The most offended feel constrained and others, exalted, demand freedom. However, it was he who defended our will in the heavens and for that reason gave his life. How many of us thank you again for that? That faculty of agency, received without price, had the greatest cost to him. Unburdened by the yoke of iron in a fallen world, and the leprosy of death, we forget like those ten, of whom only one, Samaritan, fell on his face at the feet of Jesus , giving thanks
The only currency
Mr. Ebenezer Scrooge, the old miser of a “Christmas Tale” by Charles Dickens, counted and kept his coins every night in a chest. It was all his wealth. Watching her day after day between his fingers, he clutched his soul to the metal. The brightness of those coins was the only light in his life.
But in reality the only currency we have, both Scrooge and us, is the agency. A coin that was given to us after a formidable contest. We were given to deliver it back to the Father, in whose hands are all things. And he who won the free will for all, submitted himself to the will of the Father in all things from the beginning. That is why, in payment for our freedom, he was asked to walk a mile , but he walked two, was asked to drink from a bitter cup and drained to the dregs . He made sure, beyond what was required, until he exclaimed “It is finished!”
Miserly with our agency, we keep it and hold it in our hands, in the great cause of our personal kingdom. And we forget the one who gave his life so that our greed would not lose us. We forget that the Father lost 1/3 of his children for that gift. Now, we look distrustfully at the one who invites us to offer it as he himself offered it to the Father.
What can we achieve using that currency in the cause of someone who does not remember who he is, who does not know why he is here and who doubts where he will go? That is the condition of the man who does not give his will to acquire without price the salvation that Christ offers. That is the situation of Scrooge before understanding the meaning of Christmas.
We can entrust our coin to the one who sent Simon go thou to the sea, and cast an hook, and take up the fish that first cometh up; and when thou hast opened his mouth, thou shalt find a piece of money . Peter, by trusting in his word, gets rid of the collectors.
We entrust our health to doctors, our children to teachers and our money to banks. But it is difficult for us to deliver our coin found in the mouth of a fish in the hands of whoever created this Universe and ourselves. We can not believe that he knows the conditions of the terrain better than we do. So that it falls on good soil and bear fruit, some an hundredfold, some sixtyfold, some thirtyfold.
As an example of perseverance in Christ and his gift of agency, we read to finalize an excerpt from a letter from Thomas Moro to his daughter Margarita. Who tried until the end to persuade his father to submit his conscience to the dynastic interests of Henry VIII. Thomas Moro was executed by decapitation in the Tower of London on July 6, 1535
Letter from Thomas Moro
… I do not want, my dear Margarita, to distrust the goodness of God, however weak and fragile I feel. Moreover, if because of terror and fright he saw that I am about to yield, I will remember Saint Peter, when, because of his little faith, he began to sink with a single blow of wind, and I will do what he did. I will shout to Christ: Lord, save me. I hope that then he, holding out his hand, will hold me and will not let me sink.
And, if I allowed my resemblance with Peter to go even further, in such a way that I would come to total fall and swear and perjure (what God, by his mercy, set apart from me, and cause such a fall to redo rather to the detriment that for my benefit), even in this case I hope that the Lord will direct me, like Peter, a look full of mercy and I will rise again, so that I will come out again in defense of the truth and thus discharge my conscience, and I strongly support the punishment and shame of my previous denial.
Finally, my dear Margarita, what I am certain of is that God will not abandon me without my fault. For this, I put myself totally in the hands of God with absolute hope and confidence. If because of my sins it allows my destruction, at least its justice will be praised because of my person. I hope, however, and I hope with all certainty, that your clement kindness will faithfully keep my soul and will make it his mercy, more than his justice, what is put in me of relief.
Have good cheer, my daughter, and do not worry about me, whatever happens to me in this world. Nothing can happen to me that God does not want. And everything he wants, however bad it may seem, is actually the best.