It is often said that Christianity is the only religion in existence whereby man doesn’t reach out to God, but God reaches out to man (CCC 2560).

It is also the only religion that has a God Who walks with us in our suffering, and even shares in it through His Son.

Yet, also unique to Christianity, is that it’s a two-way street: The perfection of love is sharing in the suffering of a God Who became incarnate for our sake.

There is no other religion so simple yet so profound–nor one possessing such perfect consistency and, at the same time, remain incomprehensibly paradoxical.

That’s how we know it’s divine and not some human philosophy.

Yet it remains up to us to accept or reject God’s straining grasp in the iconic depiction on the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel. It all comes down to one question:

Do we hide or do we seek?

Or perhaps more accurately, like a small child taking cover in a game of hide-and-seek: Do we run away, or let ourselves be found?

Seeking God

With tremendous humility, the Lord lets Himself be found by those who seek Him in all sincerity.

Do we really believe this? This forces us to ask ourselves: What do we seek? Entertainment? Leisure? Love? Happiness? Pleasure?

Though we may not be aware of it, in some capacity, we all seek Jesus Christ. Some just lack persistence, some hide from God when He gets too close, and others give up finding Him too soon.

St. Ignatius of Loyola (1491-1556) (whose feast day is today), or Íñigo López, is a great example of a man who sought God in all the wrong places. His sole purpose in life revolved around military acclaim, chivalry and the achievement of knighthood. At the age of 16, he became a page to a Castilian nobleman and sought to attain glory as an officer in the Spanish army.

At the age of 30, Íñigo sustained an injury in his leg while fighting the French in the Battle of Pamplona, and he became disillusioned and depressed. While he convalesced for a full year, he was given books on the Life of Christ and the lives of the saints. It was then Íñigo found his true purpose: becoming a spiritual warrior for Christ.

Which came first: faith or grace?

I guess we could say that St. Ignatius found God “by accident,” but it was really God who actually found him; Ignatius just responded.

In this sense, we could say that Catholics live by “grace alone” (not faith alone) that St. Paul was referring to in his letter to the Galatians, because the gift of grace is not earned, but initiated by God.

Faith is simply our response to God’s continual invitation (CCC 1814).

St. Paul was simply refuting the Pharisees’ and scribes’ claim (and error) that obstinately clinging to the Law of Moses instead of faith in Jesus Christ would save them from their sins and lead them to heaven.

As Paul (also a Pharisee) rightly pointed out, their confidence in their own salvation was in fact, a superstitious confidence that would not save them unless they changed their behavior and accepted their long-anticipated Jewish Messiah.

So which came first: faith or grace? Faith comes from grace, and faith begets love.

And without faith in Jesus Christ, we cannot genuinely love.

Hiding from God

God shows no partiality: Regardless of our religious, moral, or ethnic background, our rejection of Jesus will always be our single downfall–the difference between the “sheep and the “goats,” so to speak.

And though God is relentless in searching for His “lost sheep,” in the end, it is up to us to allow ourselves to be found.

Like Adam and Eve who hid in the trees of the Garden of Eden, our persistent and continual hiding from God results in us finally being lost.

Lost and found

We can’t manufacture faith in God.

Our entire lives are an interchange of being lost and found (hopefully “found” more than “lost!”). Like our bodies, faith in God must be fed daily by our willingness to be led by Him, and our ability to accept gentle correction.

Some believe that God will descend upon us unlooked for and unasked, and if that doesn’t happen, there must not be a God. This is simply not true.

We must either be ready for Him like the tax collector who became St. Matthew, or, like Íñigo López who later became St. Ignatius, let ourselves be found.

In the end, if we’re like the farmer who searched and found treasure in the field (Mt 13:44), and sold all he had to get it, and then persevere–we can never be lost.

And then we will finally possess the same treasure that St. Ignatius of Loyola discovered–true and lasting joy.

St. Ignatius of Loyola, ora pro nobis.