Who is afraid of God?

There’s something I call ‘intimidating intimacy’. To get too close is risky. To stay at a distance is always safer than risk contact.

It is not without reason that for so long we have feared God. Since the times of Jupiter Tonans to The God of Sinai, people have trembled in fear facing the volcanic manifestations of the divine.  As the Latin saying confirms: “Procul a Iove, procul a fulmine!” [Far from Jupiter, far from the ray] Being so, the farther away the better…

Along the intricate meanders of the Bible, when the divine messengers meet the always frightened men, the dialogue usually began with a soothing phrase: “Fear not! Fear not! “So it was with old Abraham (Gen. 15.1). So it was with the Virgin of Nazareth (Luke 1.30). As it was with the sleepy shepherds of Bethlehem (cf. Lk 2:10).

It is curious how the vocatives that begin our prayers end up revealing our intention to remain at a distance: Lord (a vocative of servants and slaves), God (generically inoffensive), God Almighty (a title that maintains the divine “You” in safe territory, high above the constellations and nebulae.

At the opposite pole, the incarnate Son calls God “Abba”, the Aramaic term typical of children’s speech, which ordinarily translates as Father, Dad, but would accept a naive and even more intimate version:  daddy, pa, pops … Things of a childish language that more grown boys are keen to avoid so as to demonstrate their independence and autonomy…

The spiritual teachers – with particular emphasis on the remarkable Therese of Lisieux – did not tire of showing us the path of “spiritual infancy” where there is not a hint of Jansenism and human misery is simply drowned in the ocean of divine mercy… The little ones rejoice with this message.

Even among religious and clergy men, I’ve noticed the frequent reactions of defense when an attitude of intimacy with God is proposed. To the best sense, it is a diseased affection, constantly being repressed, when we fear that a flood of love will steal control of our lives, starting with our feelings and emotions.

Now, God’s Covenant – the new and everlasting Covenant – in men was completed in full Passion. No wonder, then, that the Lyric poet wrote the words we sing distractedly in our celebrations: “A passionate God search you and I …”

When God begins to patrol our faltering steps, we feel threatened and would rather flee. As Jonas in the desert, we fear a more intimate interaction, without titles or masks. Isaiah in the temple, only the embers of the seraphim come to kindle a passion within.

Definitely, ‘intimidating intimacy’…