»God not only loves to hear our stories, he loves to tell his own. And, quite simply, we are the story God tells. Our very lives are the words that come from his mouth. This insight has always fired the religious imagination, refusing to be rationalized or dismissed. The conviction that we are God’s story releases primordial impulses and out of a mixture of belligerence, gratitude, and imitation we return the compliment. We tell stories of God.«  John Shea, Stories of God

For this reason we use this page to regularly offer new stories and reflections out of the world of literature, music and art.

Nächster Abschnitt

The world is full of magic things

 

»The world is full of magic things patiently waiting for our senses to grow sharper.«

– William Butler Yeats

Yet even if the world is full of magical things, they do not automatically sharpen our senses, broaden our horizons or make our hearts beat faster. Magical moments in life always have something to do with transformation – with changing the world as we know it, reshaping our familiar routines, and creating something new that was previously unknown to us.

Just a week ago, I was walking in Howth, north of Dublin, surrounded by the breathtaking beauty of the flowering gorse, the playful cheerfulness of the wind and the majestic roar of the surf. My companions stopped, marvelled and enjoyed the view again and again. Yet we also encountered people who were rushing along the cliff path with the speed and cold indifference of the cars that race down our motorways. The world is full of magical things. That is how God created it. But they need not enchant us.

The biblical stories are also full of magical moments. It is always a magical moment when God shows us something or tells us something that challenges our traditional interpretation of life. The challenge posed by inherited interpretations always has something to do with transformation: with the changing of the world as we knew it, with the reshaping of familiar patterns, and with the creation of something new that was previously unknown to us.

In the tenth chapter of the Acts of the Apostles, there is a narrative in which Peter first has a vision that turns his inherited interpretations of clean and unclean on their head. »What God has cleansed, you do not call common.« (Acts 10, 15) This is a magical moment for him, one that sharpens his senses to the question of who else might belong to the people, of whom he had previously had no inkling.

He is then summoned and led to the house of Cornelius. Although Cornelius and his household are Romans and thus Gentiles, the Spirit of God descends upon them. This strikes the newly converted Jews as somewhat strange, for the found it hard to believe »that the gift of the Holy Spirit has been poured out even on the Gentiles.« (Acts 10, 45) Peter recognises this immediately, for he understands here his dream concerning clean and unclean things and applies his Spirit-inspired insight directly: »Is anyone able to withhold the water to baptize these who have received the Holy Spirit just as we also have?  And he commanded them to be baptized in the name of Jesus Christ.« (Acts 10, 47-48) This, too, is a magical moment, and indeed for the whole Church.

»The world is full of magic things patiently waiting for our senses to grow sharper. »When magical things transform the world as we knew and perceived it, then our senses are challenged. That is why there is also this patient waiting in the quotation. For already in the next chapter, we are told how Peter returns to Jerusalem and there has to justify the baptism of Cornelius and his household (Acts 1, 1–18). Peter returns and has no chance to enjoy the new experience he has just had, to celebrate it, to savour it. Immediately comes the next confrontation, the next task.

And then the accusations. »And when Peter went up to Jerusalem, those of the circumcision began contending with him, saying, ‘You went to men having uncircumcision and ate with them’.« (Acts 11:2–3)

Why start with accusations? Why not ask questions first, find out what happened and how it unfolded? Why not first ask what it means, instead of immediately meeting it with prejudice as something bad? And why not give Peter the benefit of the doubt? Here, there is a complete lack of patient waiting for this experience to sharpen our senses to the world as God envisions it.

But let us note Peter’s attitude. He answers every question. He addresses everything, step by step, one thing after another, without skipping anything. He does not hide where he was (Joppa), who he was with (Cornelius), or what he did (baptising).

He also speaks openly about his personal vision, which presented him with a great challenge, called his own convictions into question, and with which he had to wrestle. He gives the congregation the space and time they need until they can perceive what God has accomplished before their very eyes and in their midst. However, he does not allow this atmosphere of mistrust to dictate what he speaks about; he does not let it distract him from the matter close to his heart. He speaks of what is his.

And thus does the story end: »And having heard these things, they were silent and glorified God, saying, ‘Then indeed God has given also to the Gentiles repentance unto life.’« (Acts 11, 18) W. B. Yeats was right. »The world is full of magic things patiently waiting for our senses to grow sharper.« Sometimes these magic things are in nature, sometimes in people, and sometimes in the grand biblical stories of God.

 

P. Erik Riechers SAC

Grafschaft, May 07, 2026