The Risk of Love: How Obedience Opens the Way to Deeper Intimacy

In our previous reflection, we saw that Jesus’ complete dependence upon his Father is the very source of his complete freedom, because all of his thoughts and activity spring from his radical receptivity to the gift of the Father’s love—a never-ending wellspring of truth and intimacy, of fullness of life and being. This constant reception of his very being from the Father is what allows him to give himself entirely in love, not only back to the Father, but to each one of us. As he says in the Gospel of John chapter 10:

I am the good shepherd; I know my own and my own know me, as the Father knows me and I know the Father; and I lay down my life for the sheep. And I have other sheep, that are not of this fold; I must bring them also, and they will heed my voice. So there shall be one flock, one shepherd. Therefore, because the Father loves me, I lay down my life, that I may take it again. No one takes it from me, but I lay it down of my own accord. I have power to lay it down, and I have power to take it again; this charge I have received from my Father. (v. 14-18)

In these words Jesus speaks of the “power” that he has to lay down his life and to take it up again. In other words, his life is entirely in his hands—he “has life in himself” as he says in chapter 5 (v. 26)—but it is completely in his hands only because he unceasingly receives it as a gift from the hands of his Father. His very receptivity to the Father’s undying gift is the very source of his being, his power, and his authority: “I can do nothing on my own authority; as I hear, I judge; and my judgment is just, because I seek not my own will but the will of him who sent me” (John 5:30). How can we reconcile this fact that Jesus has no authority of his own, and yet he has “all authority in heaven and on earth?” (Mt 28:18)). The answer lies in the truth of his sonship, in the innermost mystery of his being and identity, which is loving communion with the Father. Jesus lives and acts always from the place of his sonship, his intimate filial relationship with his Father—and therefore his whole existence expresses his divinity.

The same word that Jesus uses to refer to his “power” to lay down his life and to take it up again is identical with the word “authority.” In Greek the word exousia means both power and authority. What are the linguistic roots of this word? Ex means “out of” or “from,” and ousia means “being” or “substance.” This means that true power and authority is not, as many people tend to think, the ability to impose one’s will or force on another; rather, it means the ability to pour forth the fullness of one’s being in love. Because Jesus receives the fullness of the Father’s Being poured out in love, and remains always in communion with this gift, he in turn is able to pour out his Being for the life of the world…in order to take us up in himself and introduce us into the intimacy that he shares with his Father.

There is another Greek word that has the term ousia at its root. It is a tremendously important word in the development of Christian theology, and was formulated in order to safeguard the true divinity of Jesus Christ. It is found in the Nicene Creed:

I believe in one Lord Jesus Christ,

the Only Begotten Son of God,

born of the Father before all ages.

God from God, Light from Light,

true God from true God,

begotten, not made, consubstantial (homo-ousios) with the Father.

The word homo-ousios means “of the same substance” or “of the same being.” Its implication is that, because Jesus receive the whole gift of the Being of the Father, he is truly one Being with him, one God, equal with the Father in the unity of the Trinity’s inner life of love. His “one-in-being” with the Father, therefore, allows all of his acts and words, his entire human existence, to bear the divine authority (ex-ousia). His whole existence is but an irradiation of the Divine Light, the Glory pouring forth from the fullness of the Divine Being made incarnate in his very flesh.

This reality of intimacy with the Father, which applies fully to Jesus, the incarnate Son of God, is also realized in the life of each one of us, who are adopted children who share, through grace, in the mystery of the only Son. Obedience is but our response to this exousia of Christ and of the Father—that is, our response to the radiant Gaze of Love that touches and illumines us, awakening within us our deep personal truth and our authentic desires, and shines upon us the light of Love that invites us to surrender ourselves to the One who invites us into intimacy with himself.

Therefore, our life, unfolding in trust-filled obedience, is but the expression, of the intimate relationship that God our loving Father establishes with us in Christ. It is our acceptance of the gift of his love in every moment of our life, our malleability to his gentle and transforming touch, and our abandonment of ourselves into his provident care. In this light we can say that obedience is simply a way of letting the innermost truth of our being as it exists before God—our authentic identity as his beloved child, illumined by the light of his loving gaze—spread out from within to irradiate our entire existence. In this sense obedience is but our fidelity to the gift of childhood that has been bestowed upon us by God, the radiant beauty of our adoption into the family of the Trinity.

Further, we can say that obedience is not only the expression of our filial intimacy with God, but also a movement in our transformation according to the truth of this intimacy—a path into ever deepening intimacy with the One who loves us and calls us into communion with himself. How can obedience be both an expression of this intimacy and yet also a path deeper into it? It is really quite simple: we do not yet experience and live to the full the awesome gift that has already been given to us by God.

I am his precious and beloved child…here and now in the unique fullness of this present moment. When God gazes upon me, he sees and rejoices in the fullness of my identity, my dignity, and my unrepeatable beauty before him. Indeed, his very gaze of love constitutes me as the unique person that I am. Yet this gift, ever alive in the inner sanctuary of my being where I am in ceaseless relationship with God, ever cradled in the arms of his Love, is so often suffocated by the struggles, brokenness, and confusion of the “outer sphere” of my being. It is as if the Holy of Holies has been preserved, bearing God’s sacred Presence, but the radiance of its awesome light does not shine out freely through all the halls and rooms of the temple.

This, indeed, is the result of sin: that rather than abiding in the “center” of my being in trusting relationship with God, I have turned away from him and tried to grasp for life and control by myself, resulting in finding myself “exiled” to the periphery of my being. I find myself trapped on the surface, among so many anxieties and cares, so many temptations and fears, so many desires that seek for fulfillment in unhealthy ways which can never satisfy my deepest thirst. Indeed, I can even find myself so fractured and wounded that I am not even aware of this sanctuary of beauty present in the center of my being. Even if perhaps I glimpse it through the loving gaze of another, I soon forget it, or I struggle to believe in it. All of my brokenness, my sins, my selfishness…this is all so much closer to my experience, and so I take it to be the “real truth” about who I am, whereas the truth of my childhood and my beauty in his eyes can seem so elusive.

But the loving gaze of God goes deeper, this gaze of his immense and ardent desire for me…piercing through the darkness of my shame, my fear, my confusion…and reopening me to the healing light of love. Trust and desire begin to be set free within me, and I yearn to love the One who has loved me; I thirst for him who thirst for me; I long for intimacy with the One longs for intimacy with me. Yes, his touch in the core of my being draws me from my fragmentation into unity, and the veil is pulled back from the inner sanctuary where he dwells…a glimpse—for a moment, an instant—and my life is forever changed.

There is a powerful scene in the Gospel of Matthew that serves as an icon of this reality of obedient surrender, a surrender filled with trust and desire: the moment when Peter walks on the windswept waves toward Jesus, who approaches in the darkness of the night, saying, “It is I; do not be afraid.”

Then he made the disciples get into the boat and go before him to the other side, while he dismissed the crowds. And after he had dismissed the crowds, he went up on the mountain by himself to pray. When evening came, he was there alone, but the boat by this time was many furlongs distant from the land, beaten by the waves; for the wind was against them. And in the fourth watch of the night he came to them, walking on the sea. But when the disciples saw him walking on the sea, they were terrified, saying, “It is a ghost!” And they cried out for fear. But immediately he spoke to them, saying, “Take heart, it is I; do not be afraid.” And Peter answered him, “Lord, if it is you, bid me come to you on the water.” He said, “Come.” So Peter got out of the boat and walked on the water and came to Jesus; but when he saw the wind, he was afraid, and beginning to sink he cried out, “Lord, save me.” Jesus immediately reached out his hand and caught him, saying to him, “O man of little faith, why did you doubt?” And when they got into the boat, the wind ceased. And those in the boat worshiped him, saying, “Truly you are the Son of God.” (Matthew 14:22-33)

In this scene we see vividly how God invites us into deeper intimacy with himself precisely by drawing us out beyond our doubt and hesitation, beyond our shame, beyond the lies and fears of our woundedness…beyond whatever holds us back from abandoning ourselves entirely into his loving arms. He asks us to do something which to us seems impossible, something that makes sense only on the foundation of a profound trust.

He asks us, in a word, to place our trust entirely in him, surrendering our very weakness and frailty, our very fear and doubt, our very sorrow and anguish, into his care. “It is I; do not be afraid,” he calls out to us from the stormy landscape of our life. “If it is you, Lord,” we respond, “then bid me to come to you…to go out beyond myself, trusting entirely and solely in your word and your invitation, and relying only upon your sustaining grace and your all-enveloping Love.”

This movement beyond myself toward God in radical trust is indeed the paradoxical key to returning into my own authentic truth from which I have been exiled. This is because only in him, in his cradling arms, do I know myself as I am. Only in him do I find the Home from which I feel like I have been lost for so long: the home which is the Heart of Jesus Christ, open to receive me. The home which is indeed of the bosom of the Father himself, who proclaims with joy: “This child was lost, and now is found, was dead, and has come to life again.”

But how can I do this, how can I find the courage and confidence to take this risk, this profound risk of love…by stepping out onto the crashing waves with no support but his Love? Only because he has already united himself to me, only because his Love indeed does constantly support me. This Love is the very foundation of my being, the very Mystery alive in my innermost depths. Yes, his presence within me responds to his presence beyond me, and I find myself cradled between these two form of grace: the grace within and the grace without.

If I let myself be held by the grace the already burns inside of me through God’s gift, if I welcome the gift of my childlike dependence upon him by stepping out in complete trust and obedience, then I allow him to truly show himself to be my loving Father. By this trust that I place in him, this risk and vulnerability of love through which I surrender my heart and life to him, I open the space in which he can truly prove to me, more deeply than he ever has before, how good a Father he truly is.

Yes, this is how intimacy overflows in authentic obedience—the radical act of trusting surrender by which I place my life entirely in God’s hands and allow him to lead me in his mysterious providence. And this is how obedience allows intimacy to deepen and mature—for this very act of trusting surrender gives God the space and the permission to do beautiful things within me and my life, drawing me into his own healing Fire of Love, where he enfolds me, touches me, heals me, and transforms me. Through this act of faith, stepping out into complete reliance on my Beloved, I find my very weakness enfolded in the Strength of God, I find my very littleness cradled in the Immensity of his Love, I find my very fears sheltered and held in his consoling embrace, I find my desires touched and irradiated by his even more ardent desire for me.

Through this encounter—an encounter of unspeakable depth and power—God is able to draw me from my exile into the truth of intimacy with himself, communicating all that he is to all that I am, the whole of his Being to the whole of my being. And he is able to welcome me completely into the innermost depths of his own Heart, since now I have truly given myself to him. I have abandoned my life into his hands by the very power of the grace already at work within me. It is thus, from intimacy to intimacy, that the union of my being with the Being of God fully flowers, radiant in beauty and overflowing in joy. I taste, already in this life, the communion for which I have been created and which will be known fully in the consummation of eternity.

Through responding to his loving invitation—“Come”—through entrusting my life to him on the raging waves of this world, through letting him be my Father, through letting him care for me as my God…I allow him to bring forth, in the whole of my existence, the awesome truth that has always been present within me through his loving gaze, this truth of who I am as his precious and beloved child.

Indeed, entering fully into my life, he spontaneously spreads the fragrance of his love and peace through me to others. Grasping my hand within his own, he enters anew into the rocking boat of his Church and, through his presence, calms the storms that torment her. When I live according to this truth of who I am as his beloved child—according to this truth of his awesome Fatherhood, of his infinite Love and Tenderness—then the openness of my own heart serves to carve out a space in the hearts of others in which they too can welcome this awesome Love of God. Yes, the power of his loving presence, touching me so deeply in the innermost recesses of my heart—and calling me to surrender myself wholly to his love—brings the peace that overcomes all fear, the unity that overcomes all division, the truth that illumines all error, and the life that is never ending bliss and fullness of joy.