Posted by PS on March 19, 2005 at 23:03:06:
In Reply to: Re: living authentically posted by cav on March 19, 2005 at 19:50:53:
PS:
I think this is solid. Short transient instances of seeing clearly, which we cannot generate nor maintain--I sometimes call them glimpses. These have been important in my life. I would make a distinction between "reflection" and trying to relive the past, though, and certainly regarding reflection as the cause of the transience. There is a kind of reflection for me that is crucial, but it is not the same thing you speak of--it does not motivate me to try to retain or recapture the past. I reflect so to have the holy experience and what it taught me so integrated into who I am and how I evaluate (ascribe value) that I may apprehend the present moment with true integrity--full integration of all parts; the application of all truth, wisdom, ethics, and faith that I have received in every area at every time. This is the goal--to be true, to be authentic, to be a person of integrity, to be the same person in all situations.
In the book of James, there is a man who cannot even remember the reflection of himself he saw in the mirror; such self-knowledge is not integrated. A church boy who sees a toy he likes and forgets "thou shalt not steal" lacks integrity. A lawyer who fights to uphold the law but breaks parts of it when convenient lacks integrity. The man who is one person at work and another at home and another at church and another out on the town will ultimately lose himself and fall apart. He will not be able to offer true compassion in church or family life when he routinely rips off his customers at work. He is fragmented; he is dis-integrated. When structural integrity is gone, the building falls. Unless all those I-beams and H-beams are bolted and welded together firmly, the building will not stand for long.
And so it is for the one who has seen pain and forgotten his compassion, who has caused pain and forgotten his remorse, who has seen God and forgotten the glory and power--and his own trembling before pure holiness. I will not forget. I have seen the clock stop, the moment freeze, and all life's urgencies become utterly irrelevant. I have known in that moment that all God's will for me focused right there, right then, was that I might love my brother and sister. The time warp was Grace imparted, briefly detaching me from every reason I had not to see, not to do, dissolving every artificial distinction that signalled my dis-integration and rendered me crippled, unable to see my sister as God saw her, unable to love my brother as I am destined to love him forever. To see the truth of my whole existence in such timeless, thing-less, simplicity allowed me to say "yes" to God's will, to his wisdom, love, power, plan, and Presence, and to say yes to any other crisis he ever wanted to send to rock my world and dissolve the fog and open my eyes and let me live.
All that is to say that "reflection" for me simply means something different than the way you were using it, which is of course also valid. It's all semantics. Still, sentimentally, I am just hoping to redeem that word, because I have grown quite fond of it. It refers to a holy process that brings out the best in me and helps me more to be who I am supposed to be, and to be it more at all times. Helps me to walk in paraklesis and agape.
So you will just have to find another word. Harrrummph!
To "simply experience" on an ongoing basis, to be "moving in this power more fully"..."This seems good to me." Well, to me too. As far as focussing on the power and the experience of it and walking in it at all times, I think that sounds GREAT. Sometimes I have pulled it off for a while. I regret that I have never quite attained what I would call any consistency of success in that endeavor. Since I so often found myself apprehending the transcendent in these occassional heirophanies which I could not predict, control, or perpetuate, and since the "stuff" of what was real and powerful in them seemed to remain and be durable, I realized a few years back that my responsibility was that of chronicling the appearances of the Holy, and ever revisiting those holy spiritual places, ever pondering those mysteries, The Mystery. It is very much a ritual in one sense. Like a spiritual journey in another sense, a sacred return. But more like a prayer, a plea, a groping for the light. More like doing everything I can do to remember. To remember His fire. To remember who I am. Why does this not leave me stuck in the past? Because the Holy is active and alive and will not be bound in the past nor allow me to. Because when I receive and relive again the ultimacy and cruciality and transcendence of that hierophany somehow my eyes and ears and heart are opened to the next one so as not to miss it. And the glory of one and the glory of the other blend into one.
Like lights along the ceiling of a long room that is my life, the light of one and the light of the next mix and their rays fall on me together. There are dimmer spots and brighter spots in the room, but the whole room is illuminated by those several burning lights carefully placed.
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: CAV:
: I think this is right on. Somehow it seems that the truest moments of authenticity can't be retained for any length, but are short instances where we are able to see clearly, or know clearly and we are certain it isn't something we generated. I've read that alot of this transience is the result of our own nature to try to pin down what caused it...to reflect on it in an attempt to apprehend the moment. Perhaps if we instead trained ourselves to not relfect, to simply experience, we would find ourselves moving in this power more fully, though we wouldn't be all that aware of it. This seems good to me. To avoid pride and my own flesh getting in the way, simply remove me... let me be the instrument, the sheepdog...this is enough for me.
: Father Thomas Keating, the controversial proponent of Centering Prayer, says that we can have as much of God's presence as we want as long as we don't try to posess it. At the moment we do, it vanishes. For his other faults, this seems to resonate truth.
: : * * *
: : PS:
: : I remember a night in 1995 when you came to a prayer meeting at Crossover from the mortgage company (?) customer service job you were working. You routinely dealt with hundreds of problems (read: people) regarding late payments and defaulted loans and other headaches you were expected to resolve. Not a position that cultivated compassionate identification with those people you interacted with; rather, an ordered detachment was necessary to do your job well, I would suppose. Anyway, this night you came in to the group and were pretty much overjoyed because God had just melted your heart that day for this one lady on the phone, and you had handled the conversation with genuine empathy for her suffering and an inwardly prayerful desire for her well being. Now you may remember that God had been showing us that the desire and realization of such instances of unnatural, divinely-inspired compassion and willingness to share others' pain were what being Christian was all about (and as such, were also evidence of the reality of the Spirit in us). May I inform you that on that day your compassion had a durable spiritual effect that cannot be undone, and will not be voided or forgotten ever. How can I say this? I remember it vividly; it meant something to me and still does. This is an act both of compassion and power. This is living authentically. I don't know how to explain it any better, except maybe to say that I can hear Jesus saying, "This do, and you will live."