That swirl, that feeling of being "pregnant" with something seeking birth, a tugging, a yearning. And this day, May 19, the 46th anniversary of giving myself to Jesus as Savior. Allow me to have a go at it within this humble blog.....
In my pursuit of being intentional about the joining of branch to vine, of realizing a deeper union with the Trinitarian dance, of spending the 9th inning on what counts, I have come across a couple of things which I so desire to articulate. But hmmmm.... I'm not so sure it is possible. Nonetheless, let the thrash of the few words that follow serve as an attempt to express what I hear clamoring inside.
On one hand, there is a definite sense of patheticness at having spent 70+ years on a DIY project constructing an identity from which to do/survive life. And for all that self-effort, then only to realize that the "shack" that has been constructed is a mere illusion full of smoke and mirrors. Not just some sections of the "shack" mind you....no, the whole rickety thing. To find out that to enter into the dance that is always there, the "shack" must be emptied, dismantled and let go. Two cannot really become one until two are willing to be only one.
Alongside this truth is a growing awareness that emptiness is fullness. That the Jesus I gave my life to on the dock 46 years ago, the Jesus whose teachings I have sought to internalize and emulate, provided us an example of a message not often (if ever) heard from the church stages of today. Namely, that Jesus spent all his energy emptying himself and staying devoid of any of his own ideas and plans. His life was completely sublimated to the will of the Father. He did not count equality a thing to be grasped. He went to the cross empty of any of his own will, full only of obedience to the directions of the Father. His emptiness so counterintuitively brought the fullness of God's redemptive plan and made our rescue possible.
When I read of my expressions of union that I have written over the last couple of years I am humbled by my clumsiness. Each layer of the onion of knowledge only suffices for a little while until the next layer shows itself to be so much more pertinent and complete than the previous. Ultimately, that layer is found wanting as yet another layer appears to have more light than all previous ones. It is exhausting and yet compelling.
It's a strange feeling I have. A definite desire to describe some things that are so very elusive when I attempt to put words around it. No sooner than I have typed out the words comes the definite feeling: "That's not it." Type the next sentence and, "Nope, that's not quite it either." And yet, I remain convicted that it is better I take some swings and misses than to just leave the arena entirely.
I see that lamenting an apparent waste of time spent on the lifetime construction of an autonomous ego self, the false self of Merton, is merely a waste of time. For it has been that very journey that took me to where my eyes could be opened to this definite hunger within. It is a gift that apparently could not be given/received anytime sooner. It is becoming ever clearer that there is nothing to acquire, only to realize what I have had all along. Yet, it has remained hidden by my efforts to build an autonomous palace from which I could launch occasional mountain top experiences in the vain hopes they would bring lasting nourishment....a kind of 'cake and eat it too' thing.
So the parts list of this self-constructed "shack": planks of achievements large and small, real and imagined, tacked together by short staples of healthy aspirations to rack up some accomplishment points on the cosmic board. Amidst the construction and assembly of this Home Depot kit of parts and pieces, I would take breaks to dive deeper into the truths of Scripture in an effort to have a good showing of spiritual siding with which to clad the ramshackle affair. To give it a look of respectability. As I step back to assess, the results are dismal indeed. A total lack of levelness, out of plumb, mismatched boards, several spots of rot and numerous nail pops. Upon full inspection in the bright light of day the results are clear: beyond remodeling/advise demolition.
The fact remains that what I seek to acquire is already there...just not realized. It's easy to miss as it sits behind the hoped-for-Taj-Mahal of my own design that I secretly dreamed might just win this year's architectural grand prize. Alas, after a quick review, the judges are unanimous in their verdict....it must be utterly annihilated. But take heart, the Architect is interested in taking on the project and has limitless experience in transforming lost causes!
And what is my role in all this activity and attention? To sit quietly, to loosen my tight grasp, to submit to the Architect's plans and to grant him total discretion in whatever may be necessary. To invite her into the work of emptying me. That my life might be lived by him whose image I was created in. The zen of doing nothing to receive the gift of realizing a deeper union with the All in All. And only to be reminded this is not a newly minted reality. No, for it has been very near and utterly available since the beginning.
Holy Trinity, loving Father, sacrificing Jesus, winsome Holy Spirit. Receive my deep gratitude on being tapped on the shoulder by you at Lake Harriet. Thank you for piercing through the fog of myself and my autonomy to bring me onto a path that you have kept me on, however wayward I have been. Words fail to express the depth of my gratitude at being invited up and into your cosmic dance. Protect me from all that would have me sidelined from this focus on union with the All in All. Forgive the half-halfheartedness that is always too nearby. I seek to "forget myself on purpose, to cast my awful solemnity to the winds and join the general dance". Lord Jesus Christ, son of God, have mercy upon me, a sinner.
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