God in 3D

Seeing God at Work in Your Life and the World Around You
By Joey O’Connor

Introduction

My earliest memory of actually seeing God happened sometime between

kindergarten and first grade on my knees near the front row of St. Therese Catholic

Church in Alhambra, California. Our Irish Catholic O’Connor family of five girls and

two boys was definitely not a bunch of back row Christmas and Easter Catholics who

arrived just before communion and bolted before the final blessing. We arrived early, for

the whole Mass, so early sometimes I’d have to line up for Holy Confession and declare

my guilt of stealing quarters out of my dad’s top dresser drawer. My penance of a couple

‘Our Father’s’ and three ‘Hail Mary’s’ was a whole lot better than getting caught for

petty theft and thank God, not once was I ever asked to return the money. Besides, I was

almost positive the priest couldn’t see me behind the dark confessional screen. Almost

like the Witness Protection Program, but different.

Though the priest couldn’t see me, even as a first grader, I was raised with the

very clear and distinct knowledge that God saw my every single move. I really didn’t

have a choice about going to confession, but when it came to line-ups, the unspoken

choice for the spiritual formation of young Catholic children was obvious: Line up for

confession now or face a criminal line-up in the very near future. Repentance or

incarceration. Now is the time to turn from your life of crime.

This foreboding existential first-grade angst was confirmed as I kneeled before a

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very large golden Jesus hanging on the cross. The Golden Jesus had his eyes closed, but I

knew he was looking right at me. God can do that, you know. That sad look on his face

seemed to say, “Seventy-five cents last week? Now you’re up to a buck? Joey, when’s it

gonna stop?” There he was, the Suffering Servant, God in 3D in all His golden glory,

staring down at me. Woe, oh woe, is me.

Sitting in church for an hour every week, I knew I couldn’t hide from the Golden

Jesus. He saw everything and even though I cornered myself in a confessional pretending

to hide my identity from the priest, who knew full well my O’Connor voice since my

brother Neil was too young to go to confession and because the priest heard eight

O’Connor confessions, one right after another, every single month. What was I thinking?

The priests were part of the Golden Jesus God posse. My parents were friends with all the

priests from every parish within twenty square miles. Even worse, as I really began to

think about it, since my dad owned three funeral homes throughout Los Angeles County

and went to a lot of funerals, my dad probably knew every priest between San Francisco

and San Diego. God’s spies in black and white collar everywhere. My folks were always

having priests over for dinner and though I can’t confirm it, sometime between dessert,

coffee, and cigarettes, there very well could have been subtle hints in slight whispers and

priestly Irish brogues for my dad to daily recount the spare change in his top dresser

drawer. Who was I fooling?

Staring up at the Golden Jesus made me think of the other Jesus. The one at St.

Felicitas & Perpetua Church across town. I think that Jesus was marble, but I honestly

can’t remember. I had no clue what the name ‘St. Felicitas & Perpetua’ meant, but I do

remember liking that church a whole lot more because of the music. St. Felicitas &

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Perpetua rocked. It was the early 70’s and my mom had signed the O’Connor kids up for

a Tuesday afternoon catechism class. St. Felicitas & Perpetua had these two teenage

sisters who played acoustic guitars and actually looked like they enjoyed singing about

Jesus. They always played a few songs before my class and I was never disappointed. I

swayed and tapped my toe, but never too much because that would make everyone think I

actually liked church. If a priest saw me liking church, they’d force me to become an altar

boy. It was a later fate I couldn’t escape in sixth grade, red robes and all.

Standing in front of a bunch of elementary school kids, the “Sisters” (no pun

intended) pounded out classic contemporary Catholic liturgical songs like Glory and

Praise, The King of Glory, and Sons of God. How Bob Dylan’s Blowin’ in the Wind ever

made it into a Catholic Mass is beyond me? The priest told everyone Jesus was the

answer and ol’ Bob said the answer was blowing in the wind. Pretty confusing for a first

grader. The sisters never sang Dylan, but I remember swaying and singing because the

songs were so fun and the sisters were so cool. I’d never seen a couple girls so bold and

unashamed singing about the love of God. It was like they were alive on the inside. Not

faking it one bit. They really sang like they meant it. Like something deep and golden and

true lived in their hearts. Singing about God obviously made them happy and even

though the Jesus hanging on the cross behind them had his eyes closed like the Golden

Jesus, I’m almost positive he sneaked a smile when all of us weren’t looking.

There was something about those sisters. When I sang along with them, my

confessional fears seemed to just slink away. I didn’t think or care about my nickel and

dime crimes. I wasn’t afraid of getting caught or being punished. I felt lighter. Like

something was waiting to come alive in me too. Seeing them sing with Jesus above them,

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watching all of us sing, made me think God saw me in some strange, new way. The

sisters sang and sang. And they were radiant.

Radiance. Isn’t that what we’re after? That rich golden glow of life bursting from

deep within our hearts when we see God at work for all He reveals himself to be in His

word, His people and in the world around us. Radiance is the unmistakable evidence of

the free gift of life in Christ Jesus that enables you to marvel at the love of God with the

awe-inspired, jaw-dropping shock of a first-grader kneeling before a golden Jesus.

Radiance is what happens when you finally begin to live out of the authentic truth that

God sees you and loves you for who you are. It is the undeniable result of allowing God

to work in your life by allowing Him to heal you of the muddied lens of spiritual

blindness leading to a crystal-clear vision of wisdom and insight through faith in Christ.

When you move from spiritual blindness to having the eyes of your heart opened

by the love and grace of God, you begin to experience a clarity of focus and sharpness in

perspective for your life like never before. You move from the X and Y limitations of a

limited 2D human perspective. That is, seeing life with your physical eyes and your

limited vantage point, to a 3D perspective that seeks a true spiritual vision of seeing the

deeper dimensions of God at work in your life and the world around you. You begin

living life with your eyes wide open, seeking the broader, ever-expanding perspective of

God’s point of view. You really begin to live because now you see.

I know what you might be thinking. Is it really possible to see that way? To live

that way? To see God at work in my life and the world around me each and every day? Is

it really possible for an authentic radiance to show on our face no matter what is going on

in our life? To have the love of God, that something so deep and golden and true, actively

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living inside of us. To spend our days in the incredible mystery of beauty and wonder and

awe of seeing God at work in new and marvelous ways. Is it really, truly possible? Or am

I just being sold a grab bag of second-hand, garage sale spiritual drivel?

In the pages ahead, we’re going to look at the lives of many people a lot like you

and I. People who were filled with questions, doubts, fears, uncertainties, and scandalous

lives. Men and women who were more than a bit curious about this idea of actually

seeing God in person, let alone seeing Him at work in their life and the world around

them. People who saw God in 3D and whose lives were never the same. So, at the

beginning of our journey here together, my encouragement to you is to stay curious. God

has a unique way of surprising us when we least expect it. Empty tombs and all.

Maybe that Golden Jesus was all golden because that’s who he is. Radiant.

Wasn’t the resurrection of Christ all about the radiance of His life bursting forth from the

grave, overcoming sin, death, and our spiritual blindness? Maybe the artist who created

the Golden Jesus made him so golden that we wouldn’t miss him? Our gaze would be

unmistakably drawn into his gaze. And maybe, just maybe, in seeing His eyes closed,

we’d hear the soft voice of God whispering for us to close our eyes. And in closing our

eyes like Jesus, we would see the deep and wonderful and eternal things He longs for us

to see. Lord, open our eyes. Help us to pray as Paul prayed…

“I keep asking that the God of our Lord Jesus Christ, the glorious Father, may

give you the Spirit of wisdom and revelation, so that you may know him better. I pray that

the eyes of your heart may be enlightened in order that you may know the hope to which

he has called you, the riches of his glorious inheritance in his holy people, and his

incomparably great power for us who believe.” (Ephesians 1:17-19)