6\/3\/2012<\/p>\n
A few years ago when I lived in California, I helped organize retreats for the people in the office where I worked. Spiritual getaways, opportunities for refreshment. We availed ourselves of landmarks of the state\u2019s rich heritage, and held them at ancient missions that dot the coast. Few of us were Catholic, but the solemnity and Christian dedication of these oases were special indeed.<\/p>\n
Early settlers built a network of missions along the Pacific coast so that travelers could be within foot (or horse, or mule) distance of one day from mission to mission. Most still stand today, active as religious communities that also welcome visitors\u2026 including individuals or groups who want a place to worship God or meditate on the Word. My friends and I visited Mission San Luis Rey in Oceanside.<\/p>\n
These experiences were so good for my soul that I gratefully learned about abbeys, fewer in number, also each hundreds of years old, that likewise welcomed visitors. The abbeys are more active religious communities, however; and conforming to the rules of the order was more of a requirement. I arranged to stay at the Benedictine Abbey of St Andrew in Valyermo. It was to be for three days, living, even dining, among the monks. Participation in worship was not required, but silence \u2013 one of the order\u2019s strictures \u2013 was.<\/p>\n
One has free run of the beautiful grounds, including the Stations of Cross, a precious tool to reflect on Christ\u2019s sacrifices; and the abbey\u2019s library. There was no \u201clights out\u201d policy in the Spartan rooms, because there were no lights. But the library, with many volumes and a cozy fireplace, was open all night.<\/p>\n
When I went to the abbey I was not enduring a spiritual crisis, but I needed refreshment (we all do, always; whether we realize it or not is the matter), and I arrived expecting all sorts of insights, breakthroughs, and revelations.<\/p>\n
I received none. None that I hoped for, or expected. I was not disappointed, but I was confused. In the silence, I had expected to hear God\u2019s voice, but I did not. In nature I expected to see Him more clearly, but I did not. In the solitude, I expected to be free to bump into God at every turn, but I did not. <\/p>\n
Yet after three days, without insights, revelations, or breathroughs to headline a journaling page\u2026 I was closer to God than I ever had been.<\/p>\n
I had the sense \u2013 a reminder, really \u2013 that a curse of modern life is that we often are too busy to meet God on His terms. In modern religion, we are taught to construct \u201cexpectations\u201d and then devise ways to meet them, all the time thinking that such paradigms will please God. In modern spirituality, we tell ourselves that we are on progressive paths to know God better and better and better.<\/p>\n
\u2026 where, sometimes, the stark realization that we cannot fully know Him, is to rediscover the sense of awe at His majesty, His omnipotence, and His mystery. We have lost a sense of God\u2019s mystery. It does not threaten to make God more distant; it does, however, make Him more God-like to us. Our goal must not be to be God (if that were possible), but to be Children of God. We should not think we can be Christs, but we are instructed to be Imitators of Christ. Yes, it is one of our charges to \u201cknow God and make Him known,\u201d but we cannot have a presumptuous attitude: if we fool ourselves into thinking we can know all there is to know about Him\u2026 there would no longer be a need to know Him.<\/p>\n
I came to appreciate, not regret, that \u201cspace\u201d between our knowledge of God and God Himself. It is not empty, as we sometimes fear, but is that mysterious zone where we can just stop and have reverence and awe and wonder at the unknowable power, and love, of God.<\/p>\n
That mysterious zone, of course, is called faith. <\/p>\n
Embrace its vastness, do not scurry to shrink it. Love the fact that God created and maintains it as a special gift for His children. To lose yourself in the mystery of real faith is to feel, to KNOW, that you are closer to Him than you can ever teach yourself to be, or work towards. To try is futile, to surrender is divine.<\/p>\n
+ + +<\/p>\n
Writing our stories into God\u2019s song, BEING the glory of God, is the essence of Christa Wells\u2019 moving song \u201cHow Emptiness Sings.\u201d Let your tune resonate in the open spaces.<\/p>\n