The Light That Guides Us: On Divine Desire and Its Call
Throughout the liturgical year, light emerges as a powerful theme, particularly during two significant moments: the Easter Vigil, celebrating Christ’s resurrection where life conquers death and light overcomes darkness, and the Feast of Epiphany, marking the fulfillment of an ancient prophecy about a guiding light.
This concept of God as light runs deep in our tradition. Weekly, we proclaim in the Creed, “God from God, light from light.” Ancient Greek philosophers saw light as a metaphor for being itself ā for existence. Think of a pitch-black room where nothing seems to exist until light reveals it. We cannot even see ourselves without light. This light of being comes from God, who is Being itself.
Just as stars have guided seekers throughout history, our own hearts are drawn upward by divine light. The word “desire” itself comes from the Latin word for star ā a beautiful reminder that our deepest longings point us toward heaven.
Let me share a personal story about discovering God’s desire for me. In high school, I was invited to a quinceaƱera ā the celebration of a girl I liked. For months, I anticipated this event: the perfect venue, music, weather, all under the starlight. I even chose my tie months in advance, counting down the days with my friends.
The evening followed traditional protocols: the father-daughter dance, then the introduction dance. When my turn came to dance with her, there was excitement and joy. Yet after the initial thrill faded, I found myself standing with friends, experiencing an unexpected emptiness. Everything seemed to fade to black and white ā the same people, dancing to the same songs, talking about the same other people, holding their same little red Solo cups. “Is this it?” I wondered. “Was this what I had invested so much anticipation in?”
That subtle dissatisfaction, I now recognize, was my desire for God surfacing in response to His desire for me. Our longing for fullness, lasting beauty, and unconditional love is merely a reflection of God’s infinite desire for us ā a desire we taste tangibly in the Sunday liturgy through communion.
This spiritual hunger grew stronger during my college years, accompanied by intellectual curiosity. Reading Thomas Aquinas’s logical proofs for God’s existence opened new horizons of understanding. His argument that everything with a beginning must have a cause, leading ultimately to God, showed me how faith and reason dance together in perfect harmony.
I discovered the mystics, whose encounters with divine love were so profound they could only express them through poetry, art, or visible physical manifestations. G.K. Chesterton’s writings particularly captivated me.
Because children have abounding vitality, because they are in spirit fierce and free, therefore they want things repeated and unchanged. They always say, ‘Do it again.’ And the grown-up person does it again until he’s nearly dead. For grown-up people are not strong enough to exalt in monotony, but perhaps God is strong enough to exalt in monotony. It is possible that God says every morning, ‘Do it again’ to the sun and every evening ‘Do it again’ to the moon.
This growing desire for depth revealed itself in every achievement ā graduations, job offers, promotions. Each milestone brought the same question: “Is this it?” This divine discontent serves as a compass, pointing us toward our true fulfillment in God.
As we celebrate Vocations Week, we’re reminded that everyone has a calling, whether to priesthood, religious life, marriage, or the often-overlooked single life. Jesus himself and many saints who transformed the world lived single lives dedicated to God. Sometimes, God waits to fulfill our good desires until we’ve developed the capacity to fully receive them.
The greatest adventure isn’t found in any particular state of life, but in following Christ wholeheartedly, wherever He leads. Whether He calls us to distant lands or keeps us close to home, the ultimate satisfaction lies in responding to God’s desire for us ā to see Him face to face with pure hearts.
What do you desire? What do youĀ trulyĀ desire?
Let us pray for vocations in our community and families, and for the grace to live our own calling with love, courage, and joy.
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