Mystery
Lately I have been reading a lot about mystery and how we mortal beings really like to know. We don’t like being kept in the “dark” as it were.
John Shea has an interesting view on such things. In his book Story of God he quotes Kazantzakis’s description of mystery, which calls it the luminous interval between two darknesses. He then notes that when the reliability of all we have constructed is brought into question, we enter the dimension of Mystery (25).
In our desire to know, to be in the light, we forget that unknowing can contain something positive and fulfilling. This is the difference between faith, and having a vague spirituality with no particular beliefs.
But some say, are you just trying to put a good spin on pain and injustice? Are you making light of sickness or poverty or emotional distress? I don’t think so. Science bears out the fact that having the ability to find something good in a bad situation actually speeds healing. But what Shea is speaking about is more. It is about discovery, and sometimes we don’t really search until our world falls apart. Then we find that what has up till now proven good enough is no longer sufficient, and we seek something better.
Shea speaks at some length about the need for our ready answers and expectations to fail. He says Disenchantment is a traditional and well-established path to the awareness of Mystery…the beginning of mature religious consciousness (28-29). Shea’s statement is obvious: I suspect every one of us can look back over the times in our lives when we entered into a new spiritual consciousness, and can track it to some form of disenchantment we experienced.
Mystery. It is not something to be feared, but something that invites us to enter more deeply. And only after we enter, do we discover.
About Amy
Who am I? That is a question I still can't answer. One thing for certain, I am a pilgrim on a journey. I began this journey as a monastic many years ago. I lived in a very simple monastery in the Southern US, a place with a wonderful heritage and history, one quite unusual for its time. But as much as I loved the life, felt fed by the rhythm it offered me, I could not fit into the structure. It took me a long, long, long time to accept that, and move on.
But moving on means so many things. For me, it means taking on new challenges, stepping into zones in which I sometimes find I am neither comfortable nor well suited. It means stepping forward and stepping backward, and sometimes, stepping aside. It means peering into that looking glass called Jesus and trying to find me in there too.
In all my journeys, I continue to do my best to preserve my greatest treasure, my monastic experience. That doesn't so much involve keeping faith and hope, prayer and a spiritual outlook on life. It means living my monastic experience in the best way I can, here and now. That means continuing to be still before God, in an attitude to listen; to hold closely to the beauty of silence, a silence so deeply experienced nothing else can come close to its power; to practice the deeply spiritual exercise of Lectio Divina.
This is what I am attempting to share on this blog. I want others to realize that the monastic treasures aren't the sole privilege of those hidden behind a monastery wall. They belong to each and every one of us who are serious about the mystical and spiritual life. No one can lay claim to having special access to God. Each one of us finds him every time we make room for him in the life we are living.
I am hoping to encourage individuals in their pursuit of this deeply enriching life of grace, life of meditation, life of reflection, self-reflection, silence and stillness. I'd love to hear from you, to know your own journey, to share my journey with you. Drop me a line, or post some comment. It is good for all of us to share.
