Friday, September 15, 2006

Well. That describes it perfectly.

A wonderful! bit of quote from Trev's latest entry:

If you are in the poustinia (internal "desert" or solitude) and God knocks on your door and speaks to you, that doesn't sound mystical to me; it sounds quite normal."

At times it's more like sitting down and drinking tea together. My perception, then, is split between the moment, where there's no question, no thought, only acting, being, and it's all as it should be... and a sort of outside perception, knowing that on some level something incredible is going on. And so these ordinary-extraoridinary moments are recorded, sometimes, so I can look back later, and remember.

It's been on my mind, lately, to try to describe why, of all things, I still practice Catholicism. Yes, I go to Mass, and am even the strong alto in choir. (My family is Catholic, I was raised Catholic. It amuses me that some people take on spiritual names at some point; Catholics choose theirs at confirmation.) But then I say things that are so apparently unorthodox. I feel inconsistent.

There's everything to say, but few words for it. I like singing. A lot. It's good for me. A different sort of breathing exercise, but more than that. I like the ritual. A lot. A different sort of meditation, but beyond that. Mass was once described as a framework in which other things can occur - in the original context, funeral Mass and grieving. I like the sense of being part of something greater, something ancient and enduring and universal. A different sort of depth, a different sort of center. And there's a sort of gritty reality to it all.

Catholicism is kind of the odd duck in Christianity for the Eucharist. Conceptually, I prefer it, but haven't found a need to revisit the question in the last months, much less the divinity of Christ, or the Trinity, or... The truth of it matters deeply and not at all. I feel excluded at times for having grown up with transubstantiation and being rather fond of it, like an eccentric great-aunt, and furthermore, feeling that something is real about it. Which is kind of weird-sounding too.

The insubstantial conclusion is just that I like it. Something connects. It helps.

4 comments:

Anonymous said...

There's something about it that draws me to Catholicism (and Orthodoxy) too. I don't know exactly what it is. It may be the ritual, it may be the history, I'm not sure.

I'm not a practicing member of either, probably because I don't want to confront the questions and accept the answers I feel I'd be forced to if I joined, but of all the varieties, I enjoy watching these two from afar.

As for the rest of the post, that quote is so true. You can feel so 'spiritual' and be so alone, but the moment you drop back into 'normal' life, God speaks.

Anonymous said...

Julie - I certainly understand your desire to be "part of something greater, something ancient and enduring and universal."

Not get "overly mystical" - but perhaps it is in those moments, immersed in a deep tradition - part of something greater - swimming in the mystery - we begin to actually realize that our "I" is not as small as we think. Perhaps being a part of a community, church or sangha allows us to remember, or re-member, with the rest of ourSelf throughout space and time.

Wow, that sounded really silly, and am not sure I can put it in to words. It has something to do with an ever-widening circle of identity.

At any rate, I appreciate your reflections on Catholicism and your struggles with "inconsistency." I, for one, am glad to have fellow travelers that can relate and who are wrestling with the same experiences as I am. I like "it" too. And, yes, it does help.

Thanks...

--TREV DIESEL--

tao1776 said...

"Something connects. It helps"
Nuff said. The world of spirit, of breath, is beyond words; you know what maintains that spark within you. Just go for the ride and see what evolves!! Good for you!

anonymous julie said...

Zach, thanks for your comment. By being born into it, I feel like I've a place to return to, but also feel free to walk away. I'm not sure what's spiritual and what's normal, anymore, or if there's any way of discerning between them.

Trev, thanks. I think so, something like what you said... it's the connection... seemingly orthodox or seemingly unorthodox, it has its own demands that care little for the ways of the world.

Tim, thank you for your encouraging and kind words. Hope you'll keep reading...