When your eyes are tired
the world is tired also.When your vision has gone
no part of the world can find you.Time to go into the dark
where the night has eyes
to recognize its own.There you can be sure
you are not beyond love.The dark will be your womb
tonight.The night will give you a horizon
further than you can see.You must learn one thing,
The world was made to be free in.Give up all the other worlds
except the one to which you belong.Sometimes it takes darkness and
the sweet confinement of your
aloneness to learnanything or anyone
that does not bring you aliveis too small for you.
— David Whyte, from The House of Belonging
Posts Tagged ‘seek’
Sweet Darkness
· Wednesday, 27 May 2009, 7 amReaching
· Thursday, 5 Mar 2009, 12 amThere’s a time I can recall
Four years old and three feet tall
Trying to touch the stars and the cookie jar
And both were out of reach
And later on in my high school
It seemed to me a little cruel
How the right words to say always seemed to stay
Just out of reach
Well I should not have thought it strange
That growing causes growing pains
‘Cause the more we learn the more we know
We don’t know anything
But still it seems a tragic fate
Living with this quiet ache
The constant strain for what remains
Just out of reachChorus
We are reaching for the future
We are reaching for the past
And no matter what we have we reach for more
We are desperate to discover
What is just beyond our grasp
But maybe that’s what heaven is forThere are times I can’t forget
Dressed up in my Sunday best
Trying not to squirm and to maybe learn
A bit of what the preacher preached
And later lying in the dark
I felt a stirring in my heart
And though I longed to see what could not be seen
I still believed
I guess I shouldn’t think it odd
Until we see the face of God
The yearning deep within us tells us
There’s more to come
So when we taste of the divine
It leaves us hungry every time
For one more taste of what awaits
When heaven’s gates are reached(Chorus)
I believe that’s what heaven is for
There’s a time I can recall
Four years old and three feet tall
Trying to touch the stars and the cookie jar
And both were out of reach— Carolyn Arends
Shatter Our Illusions and Plans
· Monday, 14 Apr 2008, 10 amYesterday evening, I was reading this certain book by a particular author who was opening windows and doors for me to paths of insights into metaphysics, mysticism, the mystery of God, etc., when all of a sudden, in one paragraph, red flags and klaxon sirens went off in warning. My stomach knotted up, my pulse quickened, a wave nausea engulfed me. A rug had been pulled out from underneath me and I now sat on the floor. What to think? What to believe? This one paragraph has wrecked it all. It’s one of those deal-breaker statements. Can I salvage any thing from the other parts of the book? Do I finish the book? Does any of the author’s ideas still have merit? Are all these windows and doors to paths of insight tainted?
I stumbled upon this prayer of lamentation and humility posted this morning on a weblog I used to visit when I read weblogs regularly. It seems to fit well with my mood today. Another reminder to keep my eyes focused on Jesus, always…
Mystify us, arouse and confuse us. Shatter our illusions and plans so that we lose our way, and see neither path nor light until we have found You, where You are to be found and in Your true form—in the peace of solitude, in prayer, in submission, in suffering, in succour given to another, and in flight from idle talk and worldly affairs. And, having tried all the known ways and means of pleasing You and not finding You any longer in any of them, we remain at a loss until, finally, the futility of all our efforts leads us at last to leave all to find You henceforth, You, Yourself, everywhere and in all things without discrimination or reflection.
For, how foolish it is, O Divine Love, not to see You in all that is good and in all creatures. Why, then, try to find You in what you are not.
— Jean Pierre de Caussade, The Sacrament of the Present Moment
Science Can’t Answer the Really Interesting Questions
· Friday, 13 Jul 2007, 5 pmFrom the movie, Red Planet:
Chantilas: [Suppose] we just finished poisoning the earth and everyone was dead in a hundred years. Then what was the point of anything?
Art, beauty—all gone—the Greeks, the Constitution, people dying for freedom, ideas. None of it meant anything?
What about religion? Do we give up on God too?
Gallagher: You didn’t just give up being a scientist one day, did you?
Chantilas: I realized science couldn’t answer any of the really interesting questions. So, I turned to philosophy. I’ve been searching for God ever since.
Who knows, I may pick up a rock and it’ll say underneath, “Made by God.” The universe is full of surprises.
This scene jumps out at me since it is very loosely like me, except I am no longer expecting to find the “proof” Chantilas wants. And the word “searching” is no longer correct. I am seeking to be awake—to listen more intently, to be with and aware of God’s presence. Science cannot do that, not directly.
This scene also points to the essence of Existential despair—what is the meaning and purpose of it all, of life? Courage is needed to face this question. Science does not give me courage. It cannot explain sacrifice.
Where are You?
· Saturday, 5 May 2007, noonThe Lord God then called to the man and asked him, “Where are you?” (Genesis 3:9)
This is, in my opinion, the saddest line in the whole of Scripture. It hints of God’s heart ache for us. It is a response to a choice Adam and Eve made that formed a great chasm between God and us. A chasm we created because of our pride. A chasm we will never be able to bridge by ourselves. Thus the whole saga of salvation history begins, the story of the Bible, from Noah to Abraham to Jesus to Revelation.
“Where are you?” This is the question that touches our deep spiritual loneliness. Where are we? Hiding from shame, pretending we cannot be found the way toddlers cover their eyes in hide-and-seek as if that made them invisible. We run from God to the farthest shores and then throw the question back in defiance. “Where are you, God? Why do my prayers seem to fall on deaf ears?” The Lord knew perfectly well where Adam and Eve were. It is not our physical location that separates us from God, but rather our spiritual condition. Even our ability to perceive God’s presence has been vastly diminished. All our thoughts of God are distorted by…our being curved in on ourselves. The grammar of prayer must account for this separation and the efforts of God has made to cross the divide and restore our capacity for relationship.†
We think we are the ones searching for God. We are. But in reality, God is searching for us, just like the lost sheep, lost coin, and the lost son (Luke 15) God’s heart aches even than ours for reunion. Because God is looking for us, we are looking for God.
Here I am, Lord. Thank you for seeking me. Help me to stop trying to hide from you, and just be in your presence.
† Gerrit Scott Dawson, “Prayer in the Triune Life”, Weavings: A Journal of the Christian Spiritual Life, Vol. XVII, no. 3, May/June 2002, special issue called “Prayer”.
Don’t Wanna Lose You Now
· Monday, 30 Apr 2007, 12 amRan across a favorite old song from the early 90s by Gloria Estefan called ‘Don’t Wanna Lose You Now’. The haunting melancholy of her beautiful voice has a deep-seated sense of hope that cuts through to my heart. Upon a second playback, a moment of grace pierced my heart—the words are Jesus’s. It is just one more way of Him telling, singing to me, that He is seeking me. He doesn’t want to lose me.
Sometimes it’s hard to make things clear
Or know when to face the truth and I know
that the moment is hereI’ll open my heart and show you inside
My love has no pride I feel with you
I’ve got nothing to hideSo open your eyes and see who I am
And not who you want for me to be
I am only myself, myselfI don’t wanna lose you now
We’re gonna get through somehow
Don’t wanna lose you now, or ever
Baby, I’ve finally found the courage to stand my ground
But if you want me, I’ll be around, foreverWe all make mistakes; we all lose our way
But we stood the test of time and I hope
that’s the way it will stayIt’s all up to you to tell me to go
‘Cause it won’t be me to walk away
when you’re all that I knowNow I know…
That I don’t wanna lose you now
We’re gonna get through somehow
I don’t wanna lose you now, or ever, never
Baby, I’ve finally found the courage to stand my ground
But if you want me, I’ll be around, forever,
forever, yeah, yeahDon’t wanna lose you, lose you now
Gonna get through somehow
Don’t wanna lose you…
Pride hides. Love does not.
The choice is mine. He loves me that much to give me the choice. His heart aches at the prospect of losing me. My heart aches for being lost.
I know you are right here, in all and in everyone around me. I feel so lost. I choose you. Oh how I try to choose you. I feel so lost, so separated from you. I know it’s me. I don’t want to hide. I know you’re here. Find me. Please find me.
“We’re gonna get through somehow.” I know. Help my unbelief. I trust you.
Seeking Intimacy
· Sunday, 25 Mar 2007, 4 pmWe all are virgins of the heart. We seek, often desperately, intimacy with another person. But even in the midst of close intimacy, be it physical, emotional, spiritual, or intellectual, it is not perfect. Something is always missing. It remains unsatisfactory on some deep level, whether we are immediately aware of it or not. It is incomplete. The other is somehow still distant. And so we still feel incomplete, and the drive for intimacy continues to haunt us.
We long for perfect intimacy, but are denied. It is a good thing that perfect intimacy is impossible on this side of heaven. If two human hearts met in perfect intimacy, one of two things would happen. In one situation, one heart, because of our fallen nature, would try to control and use the other heart. In the other situation, one heart would be so overwhelmed by the infinity of the other heart, so frighten at the ultimate responsibility of perfect intimacy, that it would run away.
Only in the Trinity of God the Father, the Son and Holy Spirit does perfect intimacy exist, a total and complete giving and receiving—kenosis. Only can God not be tempted to control and use another’s heart. Only can God not run away from the ultimate responsibility of perfect intimacy. Only through God, with God, in God, will we finally be in perfect intimacy our hearts desire, at the great wedding banquet in heaven between the Groom and His Bride.
But this should not stop us from from reaching out to others here and now on earth. We still must open our hearts to others, for only heaven is closed to a closed heart. We attempt to prostitute our hearts only if we seek intimacy for selfish means, to control another, or to use another to alleviate the ache of our loneliness. To seek honestly and responsibly the many levels of intimacy in terms of friendship, compassion, hospitality, mercy, marriage, even prayer, is to seek out connections with others out of love.
The drive for physical, emotional, spiritual, or intellectual intimacy is a powerful energy whose source is the Body of Christ. And when we give this gift to others properly, it strengthens and reinforces the connectedness of the Body of Christ.
On one level, we all sleep alone. But not really. The one who loves is never alone.
Master, I want to see
· Sunday, 26 Oct 2003, 6 pmAt times, there is a big difference between reading scripture and hearing it. Case in point was in this Sunday’s Gospel reading from Mark 10:46-52:
As Jesus was leaving Jericho with his disciples and a sizable crowd,
Bartimaeus, a blind man, the son of Timaeus,
sat by the roadside begging.
On hearing that it was Jesus of Nazareth,
he began to cry out and say,
“Jesus, son of David, have pity on me.”
And many rebuked him, telling him to be silent.
But he kept calling out all the more,
“Son of David, have pity on me.”
Jesus stopped and said, “Call him.”
So they called the blind man, saying to him,
“Take courage; get up, Jesus is calling you.”
He threw aside his cloak, sprang up, and came to Jesus.
Jesus said to him in reply, “What do you want me to do for you?”
The blind man replied to him, “Master, I want to see.”
Jesus told him, “Go your way; your faith has saved you.”
Immediately he received his sight
and followed him on the way.
I had read this piece and thought of it as just another healing miracle. I know that every miracle story has a deeper meaning, and each one fits somehow into the overall presentation of the Gospel as a whole, but this one did not speak directly to me until I heard it read out loud during Mass.
About two-thirds of the way through the passage, it hit me like a ton of bricks. I had been like Bartimaeus. I had at one time in my life been blind. Not physically blind, but spiritually blind. I did not have any faith. I did not understand the spiritual ways of the world. I was lost. Somehow, through His help and the help of others, I was able to call out to Jesus and ask to be healed. And like Bartimaeus, I began to follow Jesus to Jerusalem and to the Cross.
But, although I may see, I still have blind spots. I do not see everything clearly. One of my blind spots is not always taking the time to see Jesus in others. In my haste or in my selfishness or in my pride, I do not see the part of others that is holy, that is worth loving. I do not see their whole humanity. Forgive me.
I pray, “Master, I want to see.”
Are You Holy?
· Monday, 20 Oct 2003, 2 pmAre you holy?
This question was asked by the guest speaker at a conference I attended this past weekend. No one raised their hand. The speaker went on to say that she has asked this same question for many years. No one has ever raised their hand, except for one person. The speaker asked this person why she thought that she was holy. The person replied, “Because God made me that way.”
<Pause for a moment of reflection.>
I wonder why the vast majority of us do not initially answer this question in the affirmative. Is it humility? Or is it a sense of false humility to admit to something that may sound like blasphemy to someone else? Or maybe it is the simple fact that we know that we are sinners, and do not feel that we are worthy enough to be called “holy”?
To be honest, we are not worthy. None of us are. No matter what good we do, it is never enough to pay the price of admission into heaven. The price is way too high for us mere humans. But God thinks we are worthy. He sees something in us that most of us do not. He thinks that each and every one of us is worth it, despite of what we think of ourselves. And moreover, Jesus has paid our price for admission.
<Pause for another moment of reflection.>
Okay, let’s redirect that first question and ask: do you see other people as holy?
Be honest, do you see holiness in others? Perhaps if we rephrased that in its more popular form: do you see Jesus in others?
Do you see Jesus in the people around you? Do you see Him in your pastor or priest? Do you see Him in your family members or friends? Do you see Him in your coworkers or classmates? How about in the person sitting in the car next to you at the traffic light? Or in the homeless person begging on the street corner? Do you see Him in your enemy?
Not sure. What was Jesus’ second commandment?
<Pause for one more moment of reflection.>
Okay, let’s redirect the focus of these questions and ask: does God love everyone?
— — — — — — —
This post was initially about my reflection to the first question. The last question was initiated at the weblog called He Lives, and discussion continued at St. Stephen’s Musings (civil), The Homeric Hymn (heated), and at St. Stephen’s Musings again (civil).
It seems to me that these two questions are connected, and even more so, they should have the same answer.