On the quest for a deeper understanding
/“Cry out for insight, and ask for understanding.” (Prov. 2:3)
“Likewise the Spirit helps us in our weakness; for we do not know how to pray as we ought, but that very Spirit intercedes with sighs too deep for words.” (Romans 8:26)
“A gem cannot be polished without friction, nor a man perfected without trials.” (Seneca)
“When you arise in the morning think of what a privilege it is to be alive, to think, to enjoy, to love.” (Marcus Aurelius)
“At any moment, you have a choice, that either leads you closer to your spirit or further away from it.” (Thich Nhat Hanh)
“The least of things with a meaning is worth more in life than the greatest of things without it.” (Carl Jung)
“The spiritual life does not remove us from the world but leads us deeper into.” (Henri J.M. Nouwen)
“There are years that ask questions and years that answer.” (Zora Neale Hurston)
“Before you call yourself a Christian, Buddhist, Muslim, Hindu or any other theology, learn to be human first.” (Shannon L. Alder)
It is good to make the clear distinction
Source: http://teacherlink.ed.usu.edu/tlnasa/reference/imaginedvd/Files/apod/apod/ap050425.html
When reading ‘spirituality’ literature as it is normally earmarked in libraries and bookstores, it is good to make the clear distinction between the ‘amateur’ and the ‘professional’ author. Especially nowadays when there is a heightened level of suffering and seeking in the world. The amateur will open their heart, furrowed but still beating, to speak something on life’s joyful-sorrows. The professional, on the other hand, has ‘secrets’ and polished merchandise to sell. The first approach takes the reader through the ‘stations of the cross’ as it stumbles and stutters before the great questions which life puts to us. The second approach with its tailor-made answers is as undemanding to write as it can be destructive for the susceptible consumer whose head is filled with unreasonable expectations. Our hearts are not cut stone to be categorised on some ‘zeitgeist’ chart. They are [to paraphrase Algernon Swinburne when he refers to Walt Whitman’s lips], ‘blood-beats of song’. This is why we are especially moved and aided by the experiential spiritual literature which comes out of concentration camps, and prisons, and hospitals. And exile from country.
One of the most powerful deceptions
One of the most powerful deceptions of our increasingly automated world, where people similarly to perishable goods are ‘tagged’ with an expiry date, is the dreadful lie of the easy path to peace and enlightenment. These two ways are invariably sold and marketed together. The truth is much more sobering and gut-wrenching than the professionally generated manual which goes something like: “12 easy steps to realizing the god within and how to make your first Million Dollars at the same time!” Growth can only ever come by way of struggle and tension. It is a gradual formation and development. It can be like an enclosed chrysalis breaking through its hard-outer case. Some contemplatives following in the tradition of the unjustly persecuted 16th century priest Lorenzo Scupoli, have called it “spiritual combat”.[1] Most of us know with even a modicum of life experience behind us, there are no short-cuts to realising peace within our hearts. That is a calmness or a ‘stillness’ which leads to self-awareness: the examination of our thoughts, emotions, and actions. The soul, that immaterial part of ourselves, needs to declutter and to remove unnecessary things. Increasingly difficult with our almost total immersion into a ‘hot-wired’ world of algorithms and computer-implementable instructions. And yet, we despair not, for all things are possible. The soul is not limited by boundaries nor can it be imprisoned by time:
“The psyche, in turn, is the openness of human being for the world as a whole in its three-dimensional temporality of past, present and future which the nous within the psyche not only understands in some way, but also with which it resonates in moods of all kinds. It is only because we share this mooded resonance with three-dimensional time that we humans can share music.” (Michael Eldred)
The highest accomplishment to all our realisations
The spiritual quest can at times be ugly and brutal and indeed, on occasion even shocking. Like Christ’s prayer in the Garden of Gethsemane: “And being in anguish, he prayed more earnestly, and his sweat was like drops of blood falling to the ground” (Lk. 22:44). The search for meaning will make serious demands of us, require lots of courage, and ask the hard questions. We will have to face up to our greatest fears. This is the path of understanding our greater purpose in life. Otherwise we will aimlessly drift without focus and be lacking in both compass and discernment. All effort will then become wasted. It would be terrible to die like Márquez’s protagonist character, Santiago Nasar (Chronicle of a Death Foretold), who “died without understanding his death.” To have meaning in our lives, as close as we can reach it [for there will always be questions and doubts], is the highest accomplishment to all our realisations: “Those who have a 'why' to live, can bear with almost any 'how'” (Viktor Frankl). All these realisations give us a better understanding of who we are and what we have been called to become. They contain the fundamentals of ‘who’ I am and the impact of my presence in the world.
What is truly important to us
What is truly important to us? What sacrifices are we willing to make to discover our true identity? Are we connecting with other souls? To what degree can we say that we are living meaningful and productive lives? Are we prepared at any moment to confront death, for in truth, this will reveal how far we have progressed into our journey. This life time pilgrimage of ours which begun with our birth. “Perhaps the deepest reason why we are afraid of death is because we do not know who we are” (The Tibetan Book of Living and Dying). It is not an easy interrogation of the self [“our essential being”]. How detached are we from the ‘tinsel and glitter’ entrapments of the world? We know how easily it is to be influenced, for as Christina Kline has written: “The things that matter stay with you, seep into your skin.” Are we open to revealing our own vulnerability if this means to become a more compassionate human being? These are tough questions. We tend to push and shove them out of the way for when we are ‘ready’. But when exactly is that right time? Our hearts can become so hardened, like the “hardened” heart of Pharaoh (Ex. 7:3), that none of this might matter anymore. We don’t have to be living in a cave or in the desert to contemplate such wonderful things. There is a saying that speaks to this matter and is often heard from the monks of Mount Athos when advising pilgrims: “It is not the place but the Way.” For many this quest, ‘the way’, is to know and to be known by the Creator. For others it is to find their place in the universe. These paths have something manifestly in common: the aching yearning to reach our capacity and the practising of certain disciplines to make sure we have given ourselves every chance in this quest.
For some of us this struggle to realize our potential
For some of us this struggle to realize our potential and come to terms with our “faith seeking understanding” could take years. This should not discourage us. So long as we are building. Anselm knew very well what he was talking about with this fides quarens intellectum. No one can step into the ring to fight this most important of battles for us. We are alone to work our way through ‘the darkness’ when we are called to go through it. The most beautiful of earthly beings, Saint John of the Cross, has called this “the obscure night”. We keep steadfast despite the wounds and fears, till we come across those shards of light which others before us have attested. They have remained resolute that they might also testify. We educated ourselves through our tribulations that meaningfulness, which is our sense of purpose, is something which requires both endurance and contemplation. None of this is imaginary. It is as real as a deep cut to the flesh or the sharp sting of a red pepper on the tongue. “If a man is to live, he must be all alive, body, soul, mind, heart, spirit” (Thomas Merton). In other words, it is the quest to find our best ‘pair of shoes’:
“Sometimes a man can become possessed by a vision. Perhaps it makes no sense to anyone else; perhaps it is a revelation to everyone. Yes, this man will say to himself, this is the way the world is supposed to be. This is how I am supposed to fit into it. He will know, like a man trying on shoes, that he has finally found a pair that will serve him for a very long walk indeed. So he begins, one step at a time.” (Joshua Cooper Ramo)
There are no hidden secrets to peace and enlightenment
There are no hidden secrets to peace and enlightenment. The imaginary storyteller Lionel Suggs has put it very well: “The secrets of the universe aren't really secrets. It's just that humanity is too subjugated by their blissful ignorance to ask the right questions.” If there are any secrets at all, they are evident ones that most of us discern and attempt to put into practice knowing in our hearts that grace is stumbling upon us, rather than the other way around. Gratia urget nos: “grace presses on us”. To be sure, not everyone feels this way, but can we say with an equal amount of certainty, that not everybody even if it’s only been once, has not been confronted with existential dread? This “perpetual oblivion”, as Saint Sophrony Sakharov writes, “as the extinguishing of the light of consciousness”. There is a mystic in each one of us. Who is there who does not believe there are truths to be found which go beyond the intellect? We have all prayed in one form or another, or have been dazzled by the stars, or have wept to music, or have had our spirits compressed by the “prime mover”. The search for peace itself is mystical at its core for we are tapping into a higher state of consciousness, that is, the transcendence of our everyday urges and compulsions.[2] The problem is though these ‘secrets’ are plain enough to see it is difficult to put them into practice, that is, to put them into practice consistently. And that’s okay too. We are, after all, those life-long ‘tapestries’ in the making:
“Our stories make us who we are. And each story has its own purpose and its own reward. Each story rings true and each story is worthy of the ages. There is no such thing as an insignificant life.” (Laurence Overmire)
The connection to the two great virtues
These universal truths, sagacious and sensible lessons, for the greater part established on the practise of detachment and acts of compassion have been freely given to us and put down in writing by the wisdom teachers of our collective spiritual traditions.[3] We will not find these truths, which the habitually misread Nietzsche might call “transformative lessons”, in the post sent to us by some ‘faux guru’. Asking the right questions ‘who am I’ and ‘what am I doing here’ is what remains vital [even if this might simply mean to make more correct decisions than wrong ones], and these questions ordinarily have to do with what can I ‘contribute’ rather than with what can I ‘take away’. Again we discern here the connection to the two great virtues: love and compassion. We might think of this as an ‘affectionate co-suffering’ for salvation, however we might understand it, is never a thing on its own. It is from here which good things will flow for both individual and community.[4] In the Gospel, the Christ himself, understands his mission fundamentally as one of service: “For even the Son of Man did not come to be served, but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many” (Mk. 10:45).
This interplay between the self and the outside
Of course, there is and will be, that ‘right’ moment when it seems the marvellous resolution has at last arrived, but pride would make us blind to the fact that there are strong forces, even on the outside of ourselves, which can influence our decision making. And these can often determine the journey ahead unless we endeavour to take some control like the weathered and experienced sea captain in a storm. This interplay between the self and the outside is like the flesh and sinews which wrap around the bones of the living. Or the thorns which run up and down the stem of a Black Baccara rose. In Buddhist thought it is this clinging onto negative experiences and the desire for temporal things which produces dukkha, suffering or the “unsatisfactoriness” in life. It is similar to “sin” which in the Greek is hamartia, this literally means: “to miss the mark”. So we do our best to not fold, but to ride the storm out. Humility, remaining modest, will prove to be one of our most loyal friends. This will sometimes mean to surrender, not to give up. Of course not, but to let go of the useless weight that we might be better able to shift our gaze. The numinous Japanese author Haruki Murakami has expressively described these ‘stormy’ trials which come to contest against our spirit and what we might expect:
“Once the storm is over, you won’t remember how you made it through, how you managed to survive. You won’t even be sure, in fact, whether the storm is really over. But one thing is certain. When you come out of the storm you won’t be the same person who walked in. That’s what this storm’s all about.”
[1] https://www.amazon.com.au/Spiritual-Combat-Dom-Lorenzo-Scupoli/dp/1783792744
[2] https://blogs.scientificamerican.com/cross-check/what-does-it-feel-like-to-be-enlightened/
[3] https://www.amazon.com/Wisdom-World-Religions-Templeton-2002-03-01/dp/B01FKTL3X8
[4] In the context of Christian theology the end goal of the spiritual life is to “become partakers of the divine nature” (2 Pet. 1:4), which is to participate in God’s divine energy, the overflow of his glory. If this is of interest please see: Panayiotis Nellas, “Deification in Christ: Orthodox Perspectives on the Nature of the Human Person”, (New York: SVS Press, 1987).