If there’s something I would want to be proud of, it’s that I have always taken pride in trying to see God in what I do.
Not why I do, mind you, but what I do.
It’s a philosophy that, I suppose, mirrors that of Sir Henry the eternal environmentalist, who sees God in nature: a sunset going down the side of a hill, a bird’s neon-green-on-black plumage, the heady fog of a mountaintop. This is why though he admits to being a non-practicing Catholic, his insight is more profound than perhaps most of those who do practice. After all, living on this earth, we can afford ourselves only momentary glimpses of God; seeing Him in all His majesty for longer than that would overwhelm our consciousness. Hence, perhaps, the desire to transcend physical existence, for it is incapable of standing in God’s presence for more than a moment. Hence, perhaps, humanity’s preoccupation with the process of transcendence, poorly interpreted as it is.
But why forsake reality, when in it God already provides us with that which He knows our souls can safely handle, in order to whet our anticipation for eternal paradise, while still doing what good we can on this earthly plane?