Here is a journal entry from 2005 that reflects a week when both prayer and science led to the same experience of joy and wonder:
Esther
de Waal talks about St. Benedict. I imagine him, threshing some hay or hoeing
some potatoes, on some Umbrian hillside, in the dusk, the ruins of empire
around him, the vision of God so clear in his heart, a heart full of joy. I
imagine him calling to me today. De Waal quotes his discussion of the abbot.
The man must not become too busy, else he will be the kind of man who is easily
aroused, and who is never at rest. He cannot guide the others that way, he must
find a way to maintain the balance, the calm, the serenity. Then she talks
about what Benedict imagined for his monks. Where does prayer lead us? The
answer, intellectually, is of course obvious: to being present completely in
the present moment, because simply THAT IS WHERE GOD IS. Thus we are present to
God.
For
some reason on reading it this week it struck me as a simple thing. I simply
have to move something inside me, like so, and now here I am. And so this week
I walked in the moment, no, more exactly, in the presence of God, each day. At
home on this earth for the first time in my life. Completely at peace for the
first time in a long time. There is no place else to have to get to. Each day
is simply that day’s work, and prayer, and humor. And sorrow. God is right
there, with me, each and every second. I am ALWAYS AT HOME. Because none of
this matters, except one thing, and that is compassion on those around me and
helping guide them toward the right and the true, and myself with them. We
travel together so I must help them. But God sees to it, really. I am just a
tool God uses, if I can let it happen. Somehow this week it all fell away and I
walked lightly. Paradox was paradox no longer! It is as if a wall falls down,
and instead of looking at a picture of the ocean on the wall, now you gaze out
100 miles to sea, at a vast panorama of ocean, and your heart is filled with
wonder. That is how the present moment becomes; instead of being a small box
with numerous constraints in which I must maneuver and act and try to live, the
present moment becomes a panorama of beauty and wonder, in which I am not even
a “thing” at all, because I am simply part of this panorama, and God is looking
at me, but not at me only, but at me as part of something complete with me as a
small part.
The
same thing happened when I read the National Geographic account of finding the
“Hobbit” people in Indonesia[1].
For some reason, this discovery of these previously unknown little people,
filled me with wonder and joy. The story that we are part of, the story of
human history, of the history of all the creatures in the world, in the
universe, is so vast, so large, so fantastic, so mysterious---I felt awe,
wonder, joy, and happiness. Where is it all going? What will the next million
years bring? Surely, discoveries undreamed of about who we really are, where we
are really going, and why we are really here. What could be more fabulous than
that? Then it seemed, as though my anxiousness about finding a home, about being
able to belong, was as tiny in comparison to my real home as a child trying to
find his home in a sandbox, when an entire village loved him. My current world
of people, culture, and place is the sandbox. The entire history of the human
race, and of the other races of life, is my home, the entire Universe of
Creation is my Home. I belong in it. I am part of it. I can never be anything
but at home in my existence. The scale of the REALITY appears and renders the
scale of our own mind’s image completely small, and by comparison Reality is
totally magnificent.
Somehow
on this breath one can walk in peace for a little while, though soon one
returns to forgetfulness. But for a little while, there is no place to try to
go, nothing to try to finish. Only to do what each day brings, but even that is
not a plan—it is just what is. Being present to God, it is all play—a paradox
amidst such constant suffering and agony all around me, but a paradox that is
not when God is present. The suffering is real and I join it, because God is in
that too.
And
so the impression management that is such a major part of my anxiety in this
world, is rendered completely small. The judges who will judge my life will
come a million years from now, with a perspective as far beyond ours as ours is
beyond the ancient wanderers of central Asia a million years ago.
Think
of John Paul II, who lived a unique life. He did not fit any mold. So live the
life you were created to live, and care nothing of any mold. You will never fit
the mold of the “normal” though in your mind you longed to do so. Now it is as
if the walls of that cardboard prison fall down. There is no need. There are
larger fish to fry; there are bigger judges to answer to; there is a greater
Truth to be celebrating and honoring.
This
is the day the Lord has made; Rejoice and Be Glad.
*****
I
lived my whole life in the narrow confines of a prison cell not six feet by six
by six. God called me out of it, first urging me to break the window and crawl
out. When I didn’t do that, God dynamited the door away, and invited me to walk
out. When I didn’t do that, at last, God caused the four walls to collapse into
dust, leaving me blinking in the sunlight of my freedom, trying to figure out
how I could “hold on” to it. God smiled at last.
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