AMEN- Musings on the Book of Tobit

Poet and Critic T. S. Eliot

I have so much to catch up on here; I decided to make my organizing principle the Book of Tobit. I recently re-read it: it’s amazing how scripture can stand out to you in different ways, depending on what’s happening in your life!

Here I am on IMPACT Calgary, and things are falling into place so well. I have been conducting some reading for my special project essay, and recently my subject has been T.S. Eliot. His view of himself in relation to tradition is so different from C. S. Lewis, and vastly different from W. B. Yeats: “In a peculiar sense [the poet] will be aware also that he must inevitably be judged by the standards of the past. I say judged, not amputated, by them; not judged to be as good as, or worse or better than, the dead; and certainly not judged by the canons of dead critics. It is a judgement, a comparison, in which two things are measured by each other. […] Someone said: 'The dead writers are remote from us because we know so much more than they did.' Precisely, and they are that which we know” (“Tradition and the Individual Talent,” 1945). C. S. Lewis, I think, saw his era as “amputated” from the past, and believed that the past cannot be judged at all by the present, given the past could have no conception of what was to come. Yeats, I think, would take offense to Eliot’s linear feel of time: to Yeats, time moved in a gyre. This gyre moved inevitably towards cataclysmic change, and then the gyre would begin again. Eliot’s “pile-up” method of history and literature, where the current era is always on the top, always taking advantage of the past and enriched by the past, contains an almost Victorian confidence. I’ve been struggling a bit with all of these views: I feel as though I sense pride in everyone, but that, in a sense, by making judgments about literature and arguing for a case, no matter how convinced we are of ourselves and our argument, it will come across as full of pride, as “my way or the highway.” All three poets / writers / critics, on the other hand, DO contain an awe of the past which makes them feel small and insignificant in the currents of literature and its place in history. We can make judgments, but with the knowledge of our place amongst those who have come before and those who will come after.

What does all this have to do with the Book of Tobit? I was struck by both Tobit and Sarah’s prayers to the Lord, made in all humility, and yet made with all honesty regarding their feelings, sufferings, and what they think should be done in their situations! Tobit acknowledges that the Lord’s judgments are “many and true” and yet feels that “I have heard insulting calumnies, and I am overwhelmed with grief.” He begs God to act, in all confidence. Sarah too begins her prayer with “Blessed are you, O Lord, merciful God,” thereby immediately acknowledging her place before the Lord, but she is free to judge, in her situation, how God can help her: “look favorably upon me and have pity on me; never again let me hear these insults!” (Chapter 3). It strikes me that the ability to make judgments and arguments for the “right” course of action is the gift of God to humans. We are allowed to approach our fellow man with our judgments and thoughts about life, literature, and actions, as long as we have knowledge that we don’t know the whole picture, we may be wrong, and God may want to work in ways we don’t expect. Lewis, Yeats, and Eliot can be approached in this way. This is the reason why I can make judgments about THEIR judgments as well.

These musings apply to mission here in Calgary. The Archangel Raphael hears Sarah and Tobit’s prayers in the presence of the Lord, and is sent by Him to heal them physically, spiritually and emotionally. In a sense, God gives them exactly what they asked for. But in another sense, God blows them away with his answer to their problems! His answer is beyond their wildest dreams. Says Raphael: “Take courage! God has healing in store for you; so take courage!” I think I knew that this was the case for me before coming on IMPACT, but the reality of God's healing has been full of pleasant surprises.

Take, for instance, the call out of myself with music. God is asking me to come to the front lines to lead His people in worship! My gift for music has often been buried, or given to people who I know love me and won’t judge me: it is a gift that has been wrapped up in wounds, pride, and selfishness. It’s time for the veil to be lifted, to be transformed from glory to glory. Tobit’s healing at the hand of Raphael and his son Tobiah is such a good illustration of this! “Then, beginning at the corners of Tobit’s eyes, Tobiah used both hands to peel off the cataracts. When Tobit saw his son, he threw his arms around him and wept. He exclaimed, ‘I can see you, son, the light of my eyes!’” I want to see THE SON through my worship. I want others to see Him too, and to be moved to worship the One they see with new eyes. Tobit’s immediate reaction is to praise: “Blessed be God, and praised be his great name!” (Chapter 11).

And so we come to the great Name: JESUS. I have been convicted recently of the necessity of praying His Holy Name. The Catechism of the Catholic Church, paragraph 2666, says that this Holy Name “contains all: God and man and the whole economy of creation and salvation. To pray ‘Jesus’ is to invoke him and to call him within us. His name is the ONLY ONE THAT CONTAINS THE PRESENCE IT SIGNIFIES.” The Book of Tobit ends with the same word that ends the entire Bible: “Amen.” This is how we end our Creedo as Catholics as well. The “Amen” at the end of Tobit strikes me because it is stating the fact that Tobit, Tobiah and Sarah have been living their lives as a prayer. By closing the story with an “Amen,” a “so be it,” a “yes” to God, the writer of Tobit acknowledges that the line between “real life” and “prayer life” is no line at all. Our prayer informs our life and our life informs our prayer. The Catechism says, in paragraph 1065: “Jesus Christ [there’s that Holy Name again] himself is the ‘Amen.’ He is the definitive ‘Amen’ of the Father’s love for us. He takes up and completes our ‘Amen’ to the Father: ‘For all the promises of God find their Yes in him. That is why we utter Amen through him, to the glory of God’ [St. Augustine].”

This entry contains a lot of heavy musings! I’m actually full of joy and peace right now, but also in awe of what God does for us. To sum up, I begin with Jesus and end with Him. Period. T. S. Eliot was wise when he wrote in his Four Quartets: “We shall not cease from exploration / And the end of all our exploring / Will be to arrive where we started / And know the place for the first time.” This applies to research, scripture, tradition, journeys on missions, you name it. Am I learning my place before God? You bet. Did I know it before? Absolutely. Head knowledge to heart knowledge takes the working of grace, however. But at the end of my mission and life, may my cry be AMEN, and may the One who bears the Holy Name purify my AMEN through His constant saving action.

AMEN!