The Mystery of God’s Indwelling
And how shall I call upon my God, my Lord, and God, because assuredly I shall call him into myself when I call on him? And what place is there in me which my God can occupy? By what way can God come into me, God, the maker of heaven and earth? Is it so, my Lord God? Is there anything in me which can contain you? Indeed, do heaven and earth which you have made and as part of which you made me, contain you? Or because nothing which exists would exist without you, does it come about that whatever exists contains you? And so, because I exist, what am I seeking, when I ask you come into me, I, who would not exist unless you were in me? For I am not yet in hell and yet you are there, for ‘though I go down to hell, you are there.’ I should not therefore exist, my God, I should not exist at all, unless you were in me. Or rather I should not exist unless I existed in you, from whom are all things, through whom are all things, in whom are all things. Even so, Lord, even so. Why then do I call upon you, when I am in you? Or whence do you come into me? Where can I withdraw, outside heaven and earth whence my God may come into me, he who said: ‘I fill heaven and earth’?
~ excerpts from The Confessions of Saint Augustine ~