My spiritual crisis is usually a \u201cbright day of the soul\u201d rather than the \u201cdark night of the soul\u201d described so well by St. John of the Cross. It comes at noon in the dry days of August or early September. We have had a hot and dry end to the summer in Myrtle Point. We have had days without a cloud in the pale blue sky. At noon even the crows and jays are quiet. The grasshoppers are still too until my steps in the dry grass open their wings.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
In this dry silence, I wonder if this is all there is: light, hard surfaces, matter. What if the hard material world explained by physics is all there is? What if there is no spirit in me\u2014just tissue. And no spirit in or beyond the world\u2014just matter and energy forever. The thought invites relief. I could cease striving and know there is no God. Yes, it makes all meaningless. But it would bring a rest from trying to make sense of God, suffering, and Scripture.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
In these moments, the silence of an August noon can feel like the silence of the cosmos. I look over the edge of a bright and sunny abyss. My spiritual vertigo fades as the sun sets and the day cools. Shadows begin to reclaim the land as the sun angles green through the forests. The green radiance of the filtered sun sings in the trees.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Autumn brings the shadows sooner and the alders, maples, and poison oak streak the evergreens with red and yellow. The cooler, damper mornings bring the smell of fallen leaves and musky blend of smoke and decay. Mortality and change are everywhere. Eternity is closer, no matter what the reports from the doctor say.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I sometimes think that as I hang my chin over the edge and stare into the abyss, there is someone beside me. Perhaps God, looking with me. He says, \u201cIt is a long way down!\u201d I say, \u201cYep. Let\u2019s go home.\u201d And we rise.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
My spiritual crisis is usually a \u201cbright day of the soul\u201d rather than the \u201cdark night of the soul\u201d described so well by St. John of the Cross. It comes at noon in the dry days of August or early … Continue reading