The Veil

If you know anything about contemplation, or even contemporary Christianity you must have run across references to the veil. It's in songs and literature. Without going into a whole dissertation on it, the image refers to the cloth that was hung in the ancient Hebrew Tabernacle to separate the area known as the Holy of Holies...or the place set apart for God's presence to reside. It was a very restricted place because...well, it was holy...in the true sense. God's presence was too powerful for people to experience. It would kill the mortal who entered without the proper preparations. I'm not going to go into why right now; that's a whole different topic. Suffice to say it became the symbol for the necessary separation between God and man.

When Jesus died, the Bible says that the veil in the temple was torn in two, symbolizing that there was no longer any separation between God and man. Also possibly that God's presence was no longer residing in that place...but that is a thought that just occurred to me on the spot...I'll have to think that one through more.

Anyway, throughout Chrsitianity, the symbol of the veil remained as a metaphor for the aspects of God that we can not comprehend or know. Sometimes it was called the Cloud of Unknowing. It is also used in a variation on this sense when someone refers to experiencing God in a way greater than normal. They may say they, "passed through the veil." or that the veil parted.

I have always wondered, and longed for, sometimes even raged at the lack of experiencing God more fully. If He was real and He represented ultimate reality and this world is but a shadow, why did He not show up like a pillar of fire! If not that grand, at least a concrete experience that could not be mistaken or denied. Why didn't He simply make Himself plain!

Of course I've heard all the answers about the need for faith. But that is insufficient. I'm not talking about a lack of belief. I believed as much as anyone could, but I wasn't going to pretend to be blind or deaf. If by faith someone meant pretending to be satisfied with arid prayers and the occasional emotion stirred by music, that was not going to cut it! Were those "charismatics" as I heard them called growing up, really experiencing something I wasn't or were they all wrapped up in emotion and mass-hypnosis/hysteria as was supposed by many?

Even as I learned more and experienced more and was given answers they were still not sufficient to satisfy that longing for something real. Now that I had experienced God in ways that I never had and was totally assured of His existence, why couldn't I touch Him? Hadn't Jesus parted that veil? Why was He still hiding behind it? I had read the mystics experiencing perfect union and describing it in very physical terms. I wanted that! Why only glimpses? Why nothing sustained? I had heard the explanations that it was so I could function in this world as I couldn't if His presence was that strong, but that is not sufficient either. World be damned! I would take all of Him any day! Plus God was a God of order, why couldn't He reveal himself more concretely without harming me if He chose? Why, why always the veil!

Of course, I have gone through the entire gambit of responses. Pressing harder until Iwas ground to the dirt straining against the immovable, fasting until I was so weak I collapsed, holding myself to such strict account of my behavior that I was locked in self-loathing, giving up and resting in that there was nothing more, feeling rejected and unworthy, striving to mentally unlock the secrets...and many more. Through it all, I still didn't understand that blasted veil that shouldn't be there.

Recently, I ran across an article that really lept off the page to me. I was reading, in a modern voice, what Contemplation was and how to verify it. I felt like I was reading a chronicle of my own experience. I had read this same kind of thing many times, but always in such an ancient voice or muddled by the incoherance of the mystic that I couldn't quite grasp it all. But here I was reading it in clear modern English. The effect it had on me is too deep for words, especially blog words. Lest I start babbling like a mystic, suffice to say I understood much more than I had and was humbled.

Then today, I was thinking about the great mercy that God has given us. That's when it hit me that the veil is also an immeasurable mercy! Just as the Hebrews needed to know that God was with them, but couldn't survive the presence, just as God had to cover Moses' eyes when He passed before him, so the veil was not an indication that God was hiding, but that He was present! Now that the temple veil is split, God truly is always with us. He is not hiding. He truly does reveal himself to us, and by ever greater degrees as we seek Him. But only in His way. To get to a new place we must go by the directions we are told. If we don't follow the one who knows the path, we can't expect to arrive. So we must come to know Him in the right path. Unfortunately, the Cloud of Unknowing is far more apt a term than I had ever known. There is no hard fast boundary to a cloud of moisture. We aren't outside it, and then inside. As it approaches, it gradually obscures our vision until we can not see. Likewise this Cloud gradually takes us beyond our ability to comprehend so that unless we are told what is happening, we are gradually more and more confused. We feel less and less. In truth, He is closer than He ever has been in this time. But we can't see it or even recognize the effects it has on us because He is beyond mortal sense and we are operating in that mode in the Cloud.

When He steps out of the cloud to reveal himself, it is a necessity and greatest mercy that He stays behind the veil. Otherwise we would be terrified and unmade. The veil is not a means of hiding himself from us, but of revealing when we are too unprepared for the greater presence! The fact that I recognize the veil is not a mark of how little I experience of God, but of how great He has chosen to reveal Himself to me. If I were to see Him concretely as I had wanted, that would be so much less of who He is because it would be confined in the mere mortal sense (like the tesseract is only a shadow cast by the 4 dimensional object). Perhaps this is what the apostle was thinking when he wrote that God humbled himself to the point of being human. My problem was not that I wasn't experiencing God, but that I assumed the experience would be a sensible matter. How could it be?! And how great a mercy that despite my pleas and tantrums and vanities, God continued to walk me by the hand down the road of revelation to a far greater place than I had realized.

That said, if I had the advantage of a trusted director to help me understand these things, it might not have been so difficult for me to come to this understanding. That is another reason this blog exists. Lacking any organized and wide-spred community of contemplation where we might find experienced teachers and directors, perhaps my ramblings may be helpful to other children of the woods wandering outside the Keep. And just perhaps, some Godly experienced teachers may find this letter in a bottle and realize that there are thousands more adrift looking for someone to help us understand this fog, if only you would sound the horn!

Idleness

I once read that in medeival times, boredom was considered a sin. Sounds harsh, but the explanation is sound. Actually, it wasn't called boredom. It was called ennui, and was married to sloth. Sloth, is idleness.



Of course, this needs to be qualified. Simple daydreaming is not boredom in the chronic sense. The ennui type of boredom is a prolonged detatchment and emotional flatness. This leads to and come from idleness in a self-defeating cycle. When one is always bored, it is hard to accomplish things, which makes us less engaged and more bored, and so forth into depression. So in this sense, idleness certainly is a sin.



Now I am far from judging by stating that idleness is sin. Sin is the Christian word for things against God's plan...against the natural order, as it were. And we have all sinned, done things that are not according to the good and true purposes. Therefore, I am not judging by saying this. I'm simply calling a spade a spade.



For modern people, I think boredom is prevalent because for most of us in the developed world, daily survival is not an issue. For those who live in that mode, this is not even a pertinent topic. Anyone in that kind of lack has a right to a better life and some leisure. But for those of us who are already blessed with this lifestyle, we must be on our guard. It is very easy to slip into idleness or self-absorption.

I'm not going to try to define what is acceptable; it is a personal decision that each of us must engage and do as we are led. But I will comment about myself. I am particularly vulnerable to boredom and idleness. I have learned this. When I get bogged down in the mundane, everyday go to work, come home, go to sleep, do it again world, I quickly slide down that hill toward the pit. I learned it way back in high school when I developed certain conditions. After months of trying to figure it out and consulting doctors, I discovered that simply forcing myself out of the every day and into something I could engage solved the problem. For me, getting a job was not a detriment to my schooling, but a saving grace. I recently had a resurgence of symptoms that once again sent me to doctor after doctor and, after running every pertinent test, all coming back perfectly normal, I am convinced that it is the same problem. Though I am not in the rut of high school any more, I am in a very similar rut. Work, home, chores, family, sleep, ad nauseum. To make matters worse, I am now much more sedentary at work (much like in high school).

So, I am addressing it. I am learning to keep busy. To use my hands. I am engaging myself even when I don't feel like getting up. And I know that I need to get more wildness, more adventure. I am not the type to be content in such mundane surroundings. I need to venture out and challenge myself. That's why even a walk in the blazing heat is healing for me. Anytime I can force myself out of that ennui by having to deal with other unavoidable concerns, I feel better. Idle hands truly are the devils' play thing.

Of course, everything in balance. I know people who have similar issues and spend so much time running from their demons that they can't tell which end is up. And as is true with all demons, they will capitalize on any means to ruin us. If that means switching from boredom to hyper-activity, the hellish goads will never cease. If we are truly in the service of our King, and He affords us a period of rest and leisure, it is no sin to avail ourselves of it. He knows more than anyone else how we will be all the more ready to respond to our next task if our lives are in balance.

Space

I had in mind when I created this blog that it would not be a teaching or preaching sort of thing. That it would contain contemplations only, for others to read, evaluate, comment on, and to color their own worlds. To that end I didn't want to post things I had already worked out in my own mind, but only things that were currently passing through.

However, it recently occured to me through a variety of circumstances that if two people start talking about abstractions (like ideas) from vastly different perspectives, they may in fact understand very little of what each other means. So, it would be necessary for them to provide a bit of background to see "where he's coming from". To that end, I may periodically post a few things that most people haven't ever really engaged. These things are pretty much worked out in my own head through long consideration, but so influence my outlook that they may make my often cryptic postings a bit more understandable.

So regarding space...as in the universe...the stuff, or absence thereof, that we live in. Scientists have spent years describing space. Trying to define it, model it, so that we can grasp it. This is useful in many of our technological advancements. And, as with most things on this order of thinking, it blurs into philosophy. It has even crossed into popular culture in many scifi kind of ways, though it usually gets perverted for purposes of the story. A good example is the concept of wormholes. If you read, you might be familiar with a very famous series of books involving tesseracts. These books were also heavily steeped in these 'shape of space' concepts.

So what does space look like? It is considered that space is not actually flat, but wrinkled, like a crumpled ball of paper. If we were a tiny microorganism that could only move across the surface of that paper, in fact so flat that we were effectively 2D, the paper would appear to be exceedingly flat, since our measurements would not be scaled large enough, nor could they pass into the necessary dimensions to picture it as it was. From that perspective, moving from one point to another would require crawling along the surface of the paper. If the paper was 10cm wide, then it would be a 10cm trek to get to the other side. From our perspective out here in 3D, one side of the paper may actually be very close to the other side in 3 dimensional space because it's all crumpled up. If the 2D bug could only jump through the void to the other fold, his trip might be exceedingly shorter.

Now translate this to our world. Measured in three dimensions, space appears immense. But if it is actually folded up in other dimensions, then things that can move through those other dimensions might appear to disappear and reappear in another location, maybe vastly far from the origin. Scientists report seeing quantum particles do this!

Of course this leads to all kinds of Trekkie, Star Gatey notions about space and time travel, but stay with me. (Carl Sagan did an excellent bit on this next portion, which I highly recommend watching online, since it has visuals that I am asking you to imagine in this format.) So let's think about one more dimension above ours...the 4th. Contrary to popular belief, this is not time. Dimensions are squares of the next previous...think back to geometry. A point has no dimensions, but if we string them together we get a line. Now if we square length and graph it, we get width...now we have 2 dimensions (a box). Square that and graph, and we get 3 (a cube). Square 3 and graph and we get 4. But here's the difficulty. We exist in three dimensions, so we can't show a fourth dimension...where would we put it? But for purposes of thinking about it, we can project a 4D object into 3D, like we can draw a cube (3D) on paper (2D). When we do that, we get what is called a tesseract. It's like a picture of a 4D object drawn in 3D. It looks like a cube inside a cube, and if you rotate it across the 4th axis, it passes through itself...Of course it doesn't actually, it just appears to do so in our 3D picture, just like a 2D drawing of a cube appears to have edges passing through other edges, though in reality they don't.

If you're lost at this point, go to Youtube and look up Carl Sagan's thing on 4D and come back. It's short. Ok, done that?...Let's move on.

So, just as Sagan said, a 2D creature, our little bug, would not be able to conceive of a 3D world. If we tried to communicate with it, all it would see of us is a series of flat shapes, like the apple print. Similarly, if the 2D critter were swept up into 3D it would be incomprehensible to him and he might decribe it in a variety of odd ways that would sound more or less insane. Translate that to 3D, and you might imagine some people who have tried to explain wierd phenomena and end up sounding insane. Think of Ezekiel and the whirring wheels. What is that about!? But he isn't alone. There are countless accounts of these sort of ecstatic (ex-stasis, out of the normal state[of existence]) experiences and all are very similar.

So are these things just trips of human psychology? Manifestations of chemical phenomena upon our brains? Materialists think so. But if we believe (as I argue must be the case) that there is an existence greater than what we see in the everyday world, then these accounts would certainly seem to fit the bill. Am I saying that God is really a multidimensional alien? No, far from it. But if He is truly God, He must be multidimensional, and that stands to reason that there may be created beings that exist in more dimensions than we. These beings, if operating in our world, may appear or disappear suddenly as they intersect our dimension, or project something from beyond our dimension...like emmanating light. Could it be that what we call Angels (which really just means 'messenger') are beings existing in dimensions beyond our 3?

Could it further stand to reason that if we were taken up into these other dimensions they may appear to us as incomprehensible and we might babble a bit trying to equate what we have experienced into words that only work in lesser dimensions?

I'm not trying to make theological statements here. I'm simply describing a way to think about these things that lets me make as much sense of it as my brain can handle. This model seems to work pretty well. Of course, I would caution everyone not to stop at this point. By orthodox definition, God is so far above our understanding that anything we can concieve to model Him is necessarily less than He is. So, don't fall off into wierd New Agey stuff. Stick to orthodox understandings. They have the weight of history and the large community of consent to back them up. Without that anchor, you are adrift in treacherous seas. These ideas have been treated numerous times in history, you just have to get past the latest fads and dig into the older stuff...most of which was written in the middle ages...hardly "Dark", any experienced scholar can tell you that was a time of fabulous philosophical and natural learning.

So if this stuff is real, ancient philosophy and modern science confirm it, but can't be described coherantly, then how can we know what is valid from lunacy, fantasy, or lies? That too has been addressed! There are whole treatises on assessing and confirming true "religious experience" (to use the church language) on various levels. Just look it up and you'll see. The internet is a wonderful resource for this kind of stuff as long as you use authoritative sources and resist the urge to self-diagnose. In addition, many modern sources have adapted the older concepts up into our langauge, making it far easier to understand. The first step is understanding the terminology used. Contemplation, Mysticism, Ecstacy, etc. Get a good dictionary (again, online)and look at the old meanings too.

I'm certainly not the only one who thinks these things. Obviously Sagan does. CS Lewis certainly does. These are just two sources of many. As you begin to investigate this as I have, and still do, you will also begin to see that science and religion blur into each other. In fact the conflict is mostly perceived rather than actual. Faith, correctly understood, is perfectly rational. Science, if true, will point to reality, which is God. But this is a whole other discussion that I do not have time for on this blog.

One last point on the subject. Many will inevitably say that other traditions outside Christianity also demonstrate similar experiences. How can one claim supremacy? I can't tell you which is superior. I could give you all my reasons and you would still have to come to that decision on your own. Seek and you will find. But I can at least save you some time and elliminate the common mistake of using similar experience to justify universalism (all ways lead to God) by drawing on one of my greatest teachers, CS Lewis. There are only so many ways that a ship can depart a port. Though the departures may all look alike, the seas they sail and their destinations may be quite different. Take it from this ancient mariner; there truly are far fouler things than orcs in the deep places of the world.

Walking

Today I saw an old friend that I stay in touch with, but rarely see. We had planned to visit a nearby place that he found interesting and through a slight miscommunication, we ended up walking there. To tell the truth, this was totally ok with me. I had figured that would be the mode of travel. But of course, the Florida heat took its grueling toll.

Despite the challenges, maybe because of them, walking is a very healing thing for me. I enjoy the rhythms it creates, and the very connected sense of space it creates. We live in such a fast world that distance is a relative thing. How far is a kilometer? How about 2? What does it feel like when you've walked it? Uphill or down? If you don't know, then you too have a distorted sense of distance.

CS Lewis said that cars evaporate distance. It's true. We move at various paces in cars that allow us to see the world passing, but not to experience it. And we can change speed without really feeling it. On foot, the difference between moving 6 kph and 8 kph is quite noticeable. But this effect isn't just in cars. We take trains, we fly, we use the internet...all of which evaporate distance and make it hard for us to tell how far or near something truly is.

Of course, there is true walking, and approximate walking. Many people live in such a way that every day activities for most of the world are special events for them. If they want to walk, they drive to a suitable location, wearing special clothes, with all necessary accoutrements, and walk. Some may even pay to have access to private circles or little belts that let you walk without going anywhere. This is not walking. This is an approximation of walking and while it is physically healthy, it will not lead to the benefits that I describe. By stepping out the door and moving on foot we are far freer than most other modes of transit. We can stop or stay anywhere. We can eat anywhere. We can change our route at any time. And we don't have to return to a parking place.

Then there's the adventure aspect of walking. Tolkien said that stepping out on the road is a dangerous thing. If you don't keep your footing, you could be swept off to anywhere. This is so true, if you walk a lot. Even a regular daily walk has its adventure. There is no end of possibility, and things that would feel very random can occur. For example, my friend was asked by another friend to take a picture of any odd looking fire hydrants. I have no idea why. But sure enough, we found a very odd fire hydrant on a certain point that we randomly came to.

While walking we truly encounter the space around us. We feel the wind, the heat, the dampness of the air. We get dirty with the soil of the road. We become a part of the place in the sounds we leave, the exhaled breath, the drops of sweat, and the impressions of our feet and hands. And the place becomes part of us, carried away in our ears, our lungs, our eyes, our muscles.

Today in particular the heat was impressive (some might say oppressive). The experience was marked by it throughout. At first we were merely hot. Then we were wet with perspiration. Then we reprieved and found drinks. Then again, the sweating. The sun began to alter our route...to chase us away from its full gaze. And eventually, the youngest of our band could take no more, and we stopped. Of course, we had to return. But this too was part of the adventure, as our heads began to ache, and we longed for cooler surroundings. We talked of water and swimming. Our minds driven to it by the heat. It was affecting us in a very real way. We weren't going looney, but it was certainly affecting, almost dictating our experience.

By the end, we welcomed the technological advancement of air conditioning. The cool of running water. Even on this simple urban trek, our illusions were shed from us. No more did abstractions matter. There were pressing matters of hydration, rest, temperature, to contend with. And as we rested in the cool air, our muscles and skin carried the memory of the walk. A walk that will never again occur in that way, even if we walk that route a thousand times. And, true to any adventure, the experience belongs to us alone. It is part of our story. We can tell it as we like, from our own perspectives. We shared it together, and no one who was not there, no matter how similar their experiences, can truly understand what the waves of heat radiating up from the pavement felt like, or how the breeze through the trees was so welcome.

Walking is real. Walking is purifying.

Touch

People need physical touch. Strangely this is often one of the things people shun first when personality issues gain ground. Even reasonably functional people in America have a bit of a standoffishness. I have seen people from other countries who touch each other far more than Americans.

I once worked with someone from Belize who was positively clingy. I never figured out if this was simply Belizian culture, or just her nature. She didn't mean anything inappropriate by it, she just touched everyone she knew in very familiar ways. And I've seen Japanese boys, very tough, fighting boys, I might add, lay in each other's laps and hang on each other in ways that would send any American guy shivering.

Many years ago, I realized that I needed to touch and be touched. I don't remember exactly how it started, but somehow I realized I needed it. And if I needed it, I reasoned most others did as well. I was hugged often as a child. I didn't grow up in any kind of sterile environment, so in that regard, I felt pretty normal. But this was a realization of the extent to which I relied on touch for communication.

Touch does make some people uncomfortable and that is to be respected. We all communicate in different ways. Not everyone may need the same level of physical contact, but I suppose that much of our distancing is learned. We may all be healthier if we weren't so afraid of touching. I can speculate many reasons why people may not want to be touched...but rather than dwell on the things I don't well understand, I would rather focus on what I do understand.

I am quite verbal...I write this blog, so that may go without saying, but a single touch can communicate what many words can't convey. This is one of my biggest complaints with the internet-based friendship phenomenon. While many people interact effectively via electrons it is no substitute for physical proximity and physical touch. A touch can do more to convey meaning than any other medium. A touch can even convey healing...both in the Biblical sense, and in the psychological sense. I myself have been in mental/emotional distress a few times where words were no avail, but a rightly placed touch instantly silences the anguish. Children of course need ample touch to develop normally. This is well documented, but I don't believe it ends there.

Consider the healing power of pets. This is why animals are brought to convalescents, elderly, and autistic. There is a real power in the feel of life touching us, feeling us back. Something spiritual is conveyed. Even the ritual of laying on hands alludes to this.

But lest you think I am one of those "hug-a-day" mambies, let me clarify what I mean by touch. Certainly hugs are one very effective way of touching and I use them often in the right context. But this isn't the only way, and isn't appropriate in all situations. There are of course the standard pats on the back, clasping of hands in all the various forms, but becasue of their common use, these don't reach the way well-placed touches can. I mean a touch to the arm, an arm around the neck or shoulders, literally brushing shoulders can all be powerful. Then there are more passive types of touching such as when seated comfortably. So many people sit rigid even among friends.

Now I am the first to avoid unnecessary crowding in public spaces. If there are seats across the aisle, don't sit next to me, you wierdo! But among friends, do we need to apologize because our knees brushed on the squishy sofa while watching a movie? Or to go a step further, leaning across someone to get something. I know you might be shuddering at the thought of this right now, but bear with me.

Animals do not respect these boundaries. Dogs flop in your lap and knock you off balance with their brushes. Cats swirl among your legs. Rats, to which I am partial, gently press their teeth (a rat kiss) and groom with their small manipulative hands. Birds nip and taste. And primates, including human children, cling all over you. These touches in natural language indicate trust and familiarity. They assure all members of the group that they are accepted. In short they reassure our place and our safety.

I have become quite forward in my touching of people. But of course I always stay attuned to the context and their reactions. If someone is uncomfortable, you can tell instantly with a touch and that should be respected. But my experience is that people quickly loosen to it. Even among other men, there is a touching that conveys the right meanings. One of my recently departed friends who was a very large man had a habit of pulling me (as an adult mind you) onto his knee like a child. On his massive lap, I felt like a toy, but in that gentle giant's act we both knew deeper and faster than words could convey that we both trusted and accepted the other. If we are to live whole, we must be comfortable in our own skin. In doing so we must acknowledge this means of communication. For me it is vital. I can't truly demonstrate my feelings for someone without touch. Nor can I truly understand another's feeling without touch. Say a thousand words and I will hear you, but touch me and I will know your heart. If we would shut our mouths more and let go of our inhibitions in this regard, listening to the biological, animal side of our being, we would be far more at peace and at ease.

Tarzan

This is strange subject for a contemplative blog, but bear with me. I think it will make sense. Tarzan is one of my favorite characters. An achetype, a hero, if you will. He has been adapted and readapted in books and movies and television, some good, some bad.

My connection to Tarzan started when I was a child, with the fact that my grandmother knew Johnny Weissmuller, the man who made the Tarzan yell famous, and the best of the classic Tarzan actors in my opinion. In fact, he taught her how to dive. She grew up in Silver Springs, Florida right during the era of his films. So of course, I was raised on every Tarzan movie imaginable. That led to TV and cartoons. And eventually to the original books.

As an aside, I think the two best adaptations of the story are the movie Greystoke, and the Disney animated Tarzan. As much as I could find fault with Disney, this movie is fantastic, adapting the story to a modern audience without making it overly kiddy and while keeping enough true to the Burroughs original...in fact Tarzan uses a lasso...one of his main tools in the books. They also did a fantastic job adapting the apes to modern understanding of gorillas.

Anyway, my fascination with Tarzan has much to do with my training as a naturalist. To me, Tarzan is the ultimate human. He lives in wildness, but also in society. His wildness, in fact is well translated into skills for society. He is altruistic and noble. He is strong and gentle. But most of all, his mind is clear. There is a clarity in wildness that only those who have experienced it can know. When extras are stripped away and the romanticism of nature is lost in the weather and bugs and fatigue, there is a crystal sublimity that we become aware of. The world appears differently. Powerful, gentle, nuturing, savage all at once. This is the world as it is. The world as close to how it was meant to be.

Now I know that statement will raise eyebrows given the Biblical references to the Garden and lions and lambs, etc. Granted...the wild world is fallen as well, hence the nasties that quickly suck the romance out of wild experience. But since men are the source of the fall, it is in the world of men that we find more corruption. The further we move from the world of men, the further we move from our own corruption.

So what would an uncorrupted (yet still fallen) man look like? Tarzan. He epitomizes what man would be in that purest context. Even apart from our own tribal society. He is man without a nurture in society. He is first wild. Thus his heart is open. He harbors no malice. He sees justice in black and white. He understands the interrelation of all things. His ideas and his actions are ever in line. There is no presupposition, and therefore no prejudice. He takes things as they come, life or death, and manipulates what he may control, knowing that he cannot control what is beyond him. He is man with the peace of animal, the fierceness of wild, the intellect of human. He is to be admired.

Words

Words are powerful things. They can destory and create. Wound and heal. It is no wonder magic is often associated with words. But the words themselves are just tools. The true power comes from the one wielding the words.

They say sticks and stones...but this isn't exaclty true. In fact, it really disproves itself in that the very rhyme is a sort of incantation designed to immunize us against verbal attack.

I wield words better than average. Many people have said so. I'm not sure if it is true, but I know that I have an ability to see into people and can find just the right words to cut to the heart. I have used this power of words wrongly many times. I try to keep it in check and only use it to graze the skin when someone begins to push far beyond reasonable limits in jest or in bravado.

I would much rather use it for good. To build up. I would rather practice correct speech, saying nothing except what is absolutely necessary. But this is difficult in our pop-off chattery world. I speak much folly.

Recently, I commented something that I thought valuable in a forum where others could hear. I was responding to something a friend had said. But later that person came to me angry and using surprisingly hurtful words about my inability to perceive intent and discern the appropriate time to say things. Of course, in the context, I could tell that my friend was upset that I had, in his mind, openly ruined his point, which was to encourage another without pointing that person out (thus he had not addressed his comment to them), though that was not my intent. I wanted to respond. I wanted to defend my statement as true and valid and point out the flaws in his attempt in that context...It was far too open to misdirection...and afterall, I had a right to say what I pleased, whether he liked it or not. And as I began heating up in my mind, the invective began to flow. I found myself driving the vebal knife deeper into the gaping chinks in his self image. If I were only to open my mouth I could wound him with valid and personal observations such that the scar would take years to heal. He did not realize who he was dealing with! And I had checked my responses to similar pricks from him in the past out of respect. It was time to bring this guy down a few pegs! But I didn't.

For once in my life, I held my tongue and let the steam boil off slowly. I let the scratch he had inflicted bleed and eventually clot. I remembered a recent teaching I had heard about Abraham choosing peace when Lot owed him everything and dared to allow his men to quarrel with Abraham's. I want to choose peace. I want to bear the scratch as my own. Afterall, I'm sure somewhere in his anger there might be truth.

Having the power to vindicate myself and choosing not to...this is definitely not my nature...evidence that in some small way, I am being conformed to Christ.

A Dream

I once had a dream that Jesus came to me and took me into a room where there was a large round table. On this table, something like a holographic dome appeared in which He showed me every detail of history and how it fit together. He showed me how He had orchestrated the whole of all happenings in the universe. And He showed me how current events were all woven into the plan. I watched as the universe and human existence unfolded before me like a fantastically beautiful symphony of complex interrelations, events rippling and folding into each other. I watched as the symphony passed beyond present time and continued into the ultimate end. I saw how the world and all sufferieng and all joy played together and how it would all unfold in vivid detail.

When it ended I was awed and honored at being shown and understood that even though I couldn't see how things played together from within my life, I now knew specifically how it would go and that it would all be well...better than well actually.

Then Jesus touched my mouth and said that He would erase the details from my mind because it was not for men to know.

When I awoke, I had no memory of the dream at all. I dressed and left for work. On the drive I was listening to the radio when...I know the exact spot it happened...something in a song, just a snatch of it, reminded me of the dream and the whole memory I just described flooded back, minus the details I had been shown. I remember the dream vividly, and I remember the clarity and sense everything made, but I can't in the least remember what specifically I was shown.

So, I know that history is not random. I know that the future is orchestrated and that the universe and our entire existence form a wonderfully beautiful work of art. Best of all, I know it will all end well...This is an unbelievable grace to someone like me who has so much trouble seeing the good in so much bad. And I know that I would not be able to fulfill my portion of that symphony if I knew all the details. So that too is a mercy.

Suffering

Suffering is a difficult concept. We all know that it does not feel good to suffer. Bad things are part of life, but who wants them? Various traditions deal with it in different ways. In my tradition, it is taught that since God is in total control and is totally good, suffering of those who love God is a matter of growth. In this light it can even be a blessing to suffer. The martyrs and ascetics positively gloried in it. I can understand this, but I must qualify that it is only so in the context of those who love God. How deeply this holds true, I can't say. While in my naivety I once thought that ultimate suffering was good and that I could handle it, I have long since left the plain of the hard-minded. There is definitely a suffering that is just evil. Suffering that I would not wish on anyone, no matter what. Rape and beating of children are easy examples. But there are many other sufferings that we would not wish on people.

So I find myself in a tension...strung between two wires. The one understanding that God can allow suffering to purify and to draw us to his love. The other hating the suffering caused by evil and wanting to alleviate it at all costs.

But I guess it is in that tension that there is the most truth. To suffer in peace and understand that God will work His good in spite of and through it while seeking to lighten the load and resolve suffering and injustice. How we talk about it should depend on the understanding of who we are talking to. I see this in Jesus' life and words. Tender to the hurting, angry toward those who inflict it, and humbly submissive toward God who led Him through it.

Beholding Galadriel

Sometimes the greatest revelations are so utterly simple most people don't get it. Not that they are that dense, just that the significance is lost on them because words fail to reveal the depth of the revelation.

I have been trying for the past few weeks to practice the Presence. It's nothing new. I've done it before, but somewhere along the way...I think it was a conscious choice, I am sad to say...I quit. And then it was slowly forgotten. Not that I really forgot all about it, but the importance and the value of this simple lifestyle faded.

I can't say that I've been doing very well at it. In fact, I've been doing quite miserably...but then that might be the first step. It certainly seems to often be a prerequisite for moving closer to God...that is becoming aware of just how miserable we are. As my good friend once said, we are blind, deaf, dumb, naked, and stupid. Yet somewhere apart from our own insatiable ability to mess things up, we are valued. We are loved. And frankly, I don't get it. But I do catch snatches of it on the air...glimpses in odd fleeting moments. Whispers from the mouth of God that I am truly loved. And though I don't understand why, I do understand how because I exhibit the same feelings toward others, family, friends, coworkers, and even the odd stranger that I just see so differently than they appear.

Just this Sunday I was sitting next to a very shy, unassuming, yet sincere and intelligent girl at church. I know her, but she isn't one to attract attention, intentionally or by her nature. When I asked God who I should pray for that service, as I try to do every service at Richard Foster's recommendation, I was instantly drawn to her and I suddenly saw her in a whole new light. She was so beautiful that my eyes teared up (again no surprise for me, I am easily overwhelmed). It wasn't a general awareness, but a totally different aspect, almost like a memory of who she really was...and she was stunning in the true sense of the word. So there I was next to this gloriously beautiful Elfen princess with her power radiating about and I was humbled.

I know that I was given the moment to see her as God sees her...as she really is...at least as much as my base mortal mind can contain. And there was joy. A crying heart-breaking joy. Joy that I was gifted with the moment. Joy that I know I must be so much more than I perceive as well. Joy from understanding that reality is more than we see and feel.