Duality

I am obsessed with being true to myself. Authenticity is my watchword; the standard by which I measure every action and choice. Yet, if as the Scripture contends, I am by my very nature a sinner, then by simply being authentic in this manner I can never attain anything more than the rank of a common wrech.



If only it were that simply--prolific baseness or unattainable glory, yet the Scripture also contends that I have another nature, or more accurately, purpose that pierces through me like a steady steam of sunlight through a window pane heating it with its refractive touch. Consequently, the only authentic act is to become totally translucent and clear myself of anything that would obscure or diminish the light.



Which is the truth and which is the lie? For which would I be wasting myself in a pointless pursuit that was either too far beneath me or too far above me? Which is the true hope and which is the false one?

Night Vision

Jeremy made an interesting observation last night about misery and its desire for company. It is not, as many suppose, that those who are 'miserable' want to bring others down with them but rather that those in the darkness just want to know someone else is there. What need do I have for someone who does not know what I know and does not see what I see? I have no desire to forcibly bring another into my reality just so they can scoff at my experiences; what I need is to be reassured of is that those experiences are not exclusive to me.

But is it then the case of the blind leading the blind? I think not. Those of us who are practiced at navigating through the darkness have acquired what I might call a type of night vision. However, our ability to see does not come from some artificial source of light, instead it emanates from within us. My eyes have become quite accustomed to this peculiar illumination and I am not sure that I could stand and stomach the light by which everyone else perceives the world. Despite this, there is no doubt that I will keep searching for it.

Bedside Manner

A few posts ago I wondered if I would return to Merton or not; I have and with my return has come a resurgence of sensitivity to my now defunct calling. Merton in a paraphrasing of 1 Corinthians 15:50 explains that, "God sometimes gives Himself to us where He seems to be taken away."

I have drawn the parallel between my current life outside the church and the time both Jesus and especially Paul spent in the desert, but it didn't quite fit. In both cases they were actively and consciously preparing for their respective missions whereas I, especially in the beginning, had not such thought or goal in mind. Even now the future seems unclear in this respect; it has not so much been a dark night of the soul as it is has been a silent void for me, without feeling rather than the intense pain often associated with spiritual longing.

Could it be that even through my coma, He has been speaking to me, repairing my soul like a faithful friend by my bedside? The idea intrigues me. I am so compartmentalized sometimes and fail to see movement that lies beyond my two eyes. I still don't know but the thought that I somehow remain in the hands of the Master even though I have left the field and turned in my tools is comforting. At the risk of sounding Calvinistic, I have heard it said that God does not remove His calling from us but rather we remove ourselves from His calling. He does not retract; we deny. For now, I am thoroughly convinced of at least half of that statement.