• Tag Archives spirituality
  • What Moves Your Heart?

    34  68%  26%  0mph  bar 29.66  steep fall  windchill33  Winter

                     New Moon

    “Let your capital be simplicity and contentment.” – Henry David Thoreau

    Yes, it’s a stretch after a week of wires and bytes and high definition, but Thoreau’s got it right.  If we can’t be happy with what we have and content with our life, then we doom ourselves to slavery, handcuffed to the next big thing as sure as if we rode in the middle passage.

    Then what?  After my change of mind about the exclusivist claim of Christianity, I floundered for several years. 

    There had been a prior change in my spiritual life, of a seemingly subtle nature, but it began to play increasing importance.  At some point on my Christian pilgrimage I began to resist transcendence and the many, many metaphors for it that take us up and away from our Selves, our inner journey.  Heaven, God as a being resident there, the Bible or the Pope or church doctrine as a source of truth.  Remember Bacon on method?  Ascension.  Rapture.  Rooting my ethical decisions in the literature of a long dead people. 

    Emerson made a lot of sense to me here:  “Our age is retrospective. It builds the sepulchres of the fathers. It writes biographies, histories, and criticism. The foregoing generations beheld God and nature face to face; we, through their eyes. Why should not we also enjoy an original relation to the universe? Why should not we have a poetry and philosophy of insight and not of tradition, and a religion by revelation to us, and not the history of theirs?”  Introduction to Nature

    Since I found Emerson in my first church experience after Presbyterianism, I oriented toward liberal religion.  Liberal religion is more a method than a faith, that is, it proposes to apply the Enlightenment to religion:  reason, tolerance and freedom.  At first the literally heady mix of those three allowed me to swing wide the doors of my spirit and just play, considering this possibility and that.  At some point, though, I can’t pinpoint just when, this tradition began to raise in me the same quandry Emerson had seen after only three years in the Unitarian ministry:  it was corpse cold.

    Reason, tolerance and freedom are good tools to open up a space for free thought in politics, religion and science.  In the end, however, they are tools, not content.  They can take apart political ideology and scientific speculation, but in themselve they neither decide for or against, say, democracy or socialism or communalism.  Though they also are great aids to understanding the world through scientific investigation, they offer us no clues as to why there is a world investigate, a cosmos to explore.  In religion, again, they are tools handy for dismantling false claims like the inerrancy of scripture, or, even, the universality of a particular religion’s dogmas, but as constructive tools they do not build a faith of the heart.  No, that can only happen when, as John Wesley said, the heart is strangely moved.

    More on that which moved my heart later.


  • The Dark Night Comes

    40  60%  40%  5mph  windrose SSW  bar steep rise  dewpoint 27 Waxing Crescent of the Snow Moon  Ordinary Time

    A great wind blows through Andover today.  Literally.  40 mph gusts.  The grass in my window bends to the ground, leaves swirl up from the ground and my shed door, left open yesterday, bangs against the frame.  A change in the weather, air coming from the arctic.

    This is the brown season, a season in which the only garden color is green.   The bleakness corresponds to a certain wildness in my soul and I revel in it.  Lower the lights, crank up the wind, bring on the snow.  Then, then we can get down to it, the travel toward the deep places, the caverns and secret gardens hidden by too much light. 

    This is holiseason, a time when external beauty and easy movement vanish, clearing away a swath of maya, leaving us bare before ourselves.  The Winter Solstice is the well, the sublime and darkest moment.  St John of the Cross gave us the phrase “dark night of the soul.”  He saw the dark night as a place of challenge, of despair and hopelessness, the extinction, or near extinction of faith, salvaged only by re-emergence into the light of faith.  This is one ancient trail.  There is another that sees the dark night as the very place, the site of connection with the sacred depth.  Here in the darkness from which we came and toward which we move our entire life we embrace fecundity, the richness inherent in blackness.