Emmanuel, Our God is Here

The lyrics to this song run through my head often, most especially when I am at mass.
"Emmanuel, Emmanuel, Emmanuel - Our God is here!"

Let it sink it.

I am not married, nor engaged, nor even in a relationship, so you may judge my analogy here. However, you shouldn't.
Think, please stop and think, about what it is like when someone, the one, who loves you is before you. He or she is in the same room. He's standing there, just loving you. She's holding your hand. Beside you, before you, always with you. He holds you close, even with his gaze. If you are in her arms, you know; but even when you aren't, just her presence is enough. The simple existence of the other person allows you to live, to breathe, to be. How amplified that is when he is right in front of your face! Eyes locked with yours, forehead against your forehead, hearts beating in the same rhythm. What passes between these two hearts, through the gaze of the other, is everything. The words, the emotions, the stories, the lessons, the memories, the hopes, the dreams, the doubts and fears, the excitements, the stengths and weaknesses, the promises, the love. Before you is the one who loves you more than himself.

Could we enter into this at every mass? Should we enter into this at every mass? How can we not? How can we settle for a "bare appreciation" of the sacrifice of the one who loves in epic ways? We cannot truly understand the power of a love that is wholly and totally pure and freely given, unconditional and perfect. Since we cannot seem to grasp the reality of what is before us, we allow ourselves to be told it is real and assume the best. This cannot be enough for us!

I do not wish to live my whole life being told there is a man who loves me with all of his heart and soul, who would do anything for me and forgives all my quirks and failures instantly, but who I will never meet. I cannot know him because I refuse to believe anyone could love me in that manner? What? That is terrible. I do not want that at all. I want to believe. I want to see.  I want to hope. I want to know what this love is, that is so great and terrible, that it can uproot the deepest sins and heal the darkest places and give wings to the smallest of creatures. I want to believe that there was something in me that captivated him so richly that he is never satisfied without me in his life. I want to believe that he saw the death I would die, knew the agony I would bring upon myself in my weakness and selfishness, through my vain pride and spiteful hate, and that he couldn't bear it. I want to believe that because he knew this end, he offered himself instead. He wanted me to be preserved, and was willing to endure a punishment he neither deserved nor incurred, that I would remain safe and whole.

I wish to believe that this lover is real, and that I can meet him. I demand that I do. I can't bear to be told that he is real, and to experience the effects of his love, only to have to perpetually be in the dark to his person. I want to know him. I need to. How else will I be able to return his love? How else can I thank him, with all I am, for chosing me? How else can I express the intoxication his love has brought to me?

When we are before the Eucharist, in mass or in adoration, or even before the tabernacle, we need to remember. We need to know that this is a Lord and a lover, a God and King, but a lover. He has been so thrilled by us, so filled with us, that the sacrifice he has made was worth it. I am worth his life. Somehow. You are worth his life, too. How can it be? I do not have an answer to that. But it is truth all the same.

When we sing "Emmanuel, our God is here" we are proclaiming that love has come to us. It is here. He is here, before us. He is looking at us, with all the intensity of a lover's stare. Will we meet his gaze? Be lost in his eyes? Let him reveal to us more of who he is? Allow him to reveal to us who we are? Let him speak to us? Will we speak in return? Will we say "yes" as he offers us a life in him? Will we open our hands and our hearts to receive whatever love brings?

Our God is here, the one who saves! Let us dare to meet his gaze.