Christmas Reflection: From Before the Foundation of the World

On your unrepeatable calling in the mind of God before time began. Part 3 in my series on the Christian meaning of suffering and the Cross.

Twenty minutes into Terrence Malik’s film, The Tree of Life, there is a striking and visually stunning sequence that sweeps the viewer through the creation of the cosmos and life on earth. The sequence contains no dialogue, only occasional questions from the female lead given on voiceover: “Lord, why?… Where were you?… Did you know?… Who are we to you? Answer me…. We cry to you. My soul. Hear us… Light of my life. I search for you. My hope.” The astonishing sequence proceeds for a full sixteen minutes. You can watch the first three minutes in the above video, but need to watch the film to see the whole thing—from the creation of stars and planets to single-celled organisms to dinosaurs. It artistically evokes the awesome creative power and mind of God, the infinite ground of all being and the unfathomable source of the entire vast universe.

When we consider creation, we may be tempted to think that God forgets about little old me or that he does not care. “What is man, that You are mindful of him or the son of man that You care for him?” we might ask with the Psalmist (8:4). But in fact He is mindful of us and He does care for us—each of us alone and individually. Yes, God’s creative power undergirds the vast cosmos, but God is also in the minutiae—in the little details of your life and mine.

The sequence from Malik’s film—which seamlessly transitions back into the ordinary lives of a husband and wife—can remind us that God conceived each of us in His mind before the creation of the entire universe. Each of us was made with the same devotion, care, and attention to detail as any sculpture by Michelangelo or painting by DaVinci. Indeed, even more so because these artists only had to make something static and stationary, while God creates you and me to withstand the dynamics of human life—with all its suffering—from the beginning to eternity. We simply cannot fathom all of the love and care and thought He put into making each of us. He knew what you would suffer in life, and He made you such that you could suffer these things and have Him as your prize. You matter to him.

We know Our Lord says in the Gospel of Luke (12:7) that even the hairs of your head are all numbered. Yet we still assume He is too busy to care about the details and difficulties of our everyday lives. But God not only knows every hair on our heads, He knows every second of our lives from before our birth to beyond the end of time. He knew all of this about you and me from the moment He conceived us, long before the Earth even existed. Even to the great mystics, He does not show a crystal ball with every second of their life displayed; neither should we desire to know this before the events of our lives unfold.

Just knowing that God, the King of the Universe, knew and planned out every second of your life since before time began tells you everything you could ever hope to know. God is in the minutia of our lives; there is no detail He has spared. He has taken account of everything from our highest of highs to our lowest of lows and everything in between. It is this knowledge that should enable each of us to boldly proclaim, as Evangelicals like to put it, “God is good, all of the time.” Knowing we have a God who knows every second of our lives, and is a good and loving God who works all things for our good (cf. Rom 8:28), leads us in the times that are the hardest to boldly proclaim, “God is good, all of the time.”

We have a God who turned that which is most barbaric—the Crucifixion of the Son of God—into that which is most beautiful, most good, most clearly a manifestation of His love. If He could turn the Crucifixion into the Resurrection, the hope of eternal life for all mankind, surely He can take the suffering of our lives—even those which seem almost as horrible as the Crucifixion—and make them our path to the Resurrection.

The Gospel of Matthew begins with the genealogy of Jesus Christ, which is read at Mass every December 17th. This tends to be a Gospel reading that makes our eyes glaze over; it can seem boring, and the point of it all is not immediately apparent:

The book of the genealogy of Jesus Christ,
the son of David, the son of Abraham.

Abraham became the father of Isaac,
Isaac the father of Jacob,
Jacob the father of Judah and his brothers.
Judah became the father of Perez and Zerah,
whose mother was Tamar.
Perez became the father of Hezron,
Hezron the father of Ram,
Ram the father of Amminadab.
Amminadab became the father of Nahshon,
Nahshon the father of Salmon,
Salmon the father of Boaz,
whose mother was Rahab.
Boaz became the father of Obed,
whose mother was Ruth.
Obed became the father of Jesse,
Jesse the father of David the king.

This goes on for another 28 generations until we finally get to “Jacob the father of Joseph, the husband of Mary. Of her was born Jesus who is called the Christ.” Part of the point here is that Jesus’ family history (probably like our family history) was actually very messy—and included, among other undesirables, prostitutes and murderers—and yet God brings out of this mess the Savior of the World. But the lengthy genealogy also indicates that Jesus was the fulfillment of the prophesies of the Old Testament, the endpoint of the working of God in history from Abraham through King David to the promised Messiah, whose arrival on the scene we celebrate at Christmas.

But it’s not only Jesus who was the fulfillment of the prophecies of the Old Testament. We are each the fulfillment of a prophecy, lovingly planned and designed by Our Lord, the King of Heaven and Earth, since before the beginning of time. This is true even if we don’t realize it. Knowing this should give each of our lives purpose, should give each moment meaning, each suffering value—a sign of love worth embracing. Contemplating this fact should change how we view not only our lives but the lives of everyone we interact and cross paths with. Because every life, each one of us, is the fulfillment of God’s prophecy. We are all characters in a great drama that God is masterfully directing. There are no bit parts and no insignificant roles.

This is true not just for Moses or Elijah or St. John the Baptist or Our Lady or St. Joseph or the twelve Apostles. Each of us, each life, was lovingly created and designed by the Master Artist from before the beginning of time. God didn’t just make the Heavens and the Earth and Adam and Eve, then clock out and leave the rest of the human race to chance and the random accidents of biology. He created the Heavens and the Earth, and He also created you and me with the very same attention to detail. He made each of us perfectly for each of the moments of our lives, both the hard and the easy, and through it all, He is good all of the time. After all, the Cross led to the Resurrection, and His mercy freed us from the chains of original sin.

Because He is good all of the time, we seek Him in all things. We can do so by repeating the simple prayer, “doce me passionem Tuam” — teach me Your Suffering.

Merry Christmas, my friends.

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