The Scandal of Particularity

I visited the Holy Land recently, and saw many of the places where Jesus walked. In particular, I saw where He was born, and where He died and rose from the dead.

As we walked through the churches and shrines built to commemorate these events, I was struck by the similar histories of each site. Very often we were standing in a church, built on the ruins of a Crusader era church, built on the ruins of a Byzantine era church, built on the site identified by St. Helena, the mother of Constantine, around the year 320, based on the knowledge of local residents.

The Holy Sepulcher

As I stood at each of these sites, I asked myself the same question, “Is this really where it happened?” Places like the house where the Angel Gabriel appeared to the Virgin Mary, the hill where Mary visited her cousin Elizabeth and John the Baptist leapt in her womb, the cave where Jesus was born, the field where the angels appeared to the shepherds, the Mount of the Transfiguration, the cave where Elijah heard the still small voice, the rock where Abraham went to sacrifice Isaac, the well where Jesus met the Samaritan woman, the old olive trees at the Garden of Gethsemane, the rock of Golgotha, and the tomb where Jesus was buried and rose from the dead.

At each place I experienced a lack of adequate emotion. And I wondered, “What is wrong with me?” Why was I not falling on my face at a distance, and crawling up to each site on my hands and knees while weeping uncontrollably?

Did I doubt the location? Or worse, did I doubt it happened? Or worst of all, did I really care one way or the other?

As I thought about each of these places, and discussed with my fellow pilgrims, I began to realize that I was suffering from the “Scandal of Particularity”. I was shocked to realize that I didn’t comprehend God doing anything in a particular place, at a particular time, with particular people.

It seems that I was sub-consciously guarding myself from the realization that God is personal, and that He desires to interact with each of us in a deeply personal way.

According to the mystics, it is more personal than we can ever imagine.

Thinking back on it now, I realize that we do not have to go to the Holy Land to have this realization. God is here among us now, every moment of every day, seeking us, knocking on the door, asking to come in.

Will we welcome Him, as he travels through this world seeking shelter?

My hope, for each of us, is that we will.