I'm back in college for the first time in many years, auditing a course on New Testament history at Trinity University. My primary aim in doing so is to re-read the Bible with new eyes, in hopes of re-thinking some of the perplexing teachings I learned in Sunday school during my devoutly Protestant childhood.
The professor is a widely respected scholar in the field of early Christian narrative, who wields his extensive knowledge lightly, with a good deal of humor and humility. He's refreshingly quick to acknowledge how much he doesn't know - and how much is probably unknowable - in the realm of Biblical studies, and invites his students to engage in a deep, open-ended inquiry into the many layers of historical context and meaning to be found in the New Testament. It's a daunting and time-consuming challenge, and I'm doing my best to do justice to the task, in the midst of an already full life.
UP AGAINST THE WALL
Sitting at my desk, plowing through this week's notes and reading assignments, I come up against a wall of mental fatigue in trying to absorb this new level of complexity involved in re-framing and reclaiming the Jesus story. There's just so much new information to learn, and so many old ideas to let go of that it literally makes my head spin. It's such a concrete reminder of how little I know, and how many layers of meaning underlie all the everyday assumptions of life, much less the spiritual teachings that I think I understand.
Suddenly, all vestiges of linear time and logical thinking fall away, and I find myself reliving an old memory involving my very first encounter with the mysterious Bigness of Life, when I was just four years old...
My family is still living in the Netherlands at the time, and my mother is making hot chocolate as a special treat, when I notice the brightly colored can of Droste Cocoa Powder sitting in the middle of our dining room table. On the label of the can is the image of an old-fashioned nurse, dressed in a traditional black and white nurse's uniform; she's carrying a tray that contains a cup of hot chocolate and that same can of Droste Cocoa Powder. That can, in turn, bears the image of that same nurse, carrying a tray that contains a cup of hot chocolate and that same can of Droste cocoa powder, which bears the image of that same nurse, carrying a tray... The image floods my brain, with layer upon layer of reality, sending my imagination into an infinitely long, swirling tunnel made of chocolate milk, serving trays and nurses, that loops back on itself, over and over again.
My body seems to have dissolved, leaving me floating free of everything I thought I knew with my four year-old mind. There's a part of me that seems to be hovering high overhead, up near the ceiling, looking down at little Rudolf, sitting in his chair, staring at that can of Droste cocoa powder. Somehow it all seems confusing, scary, exhilarating, powerful and wonderful at the same time, as I wordlessly experience this illusory glimpse of eternity and the enormity of life. The experience seems to last forever, but when I finally manage to bring the cup of chocolate milk to my mouth, it's still just as hot as it was earlier, so apparently only a few moments have passed. I do my best to explain the experience to my mom, who is kind and patient, but clearly puzzled by my story, so I just let it go and focus on the sweet, warm chocolate milk instead...
HERE AND NOW
So, here I am, back at my writing desk, sixty years later, still trying to comprehend the Bigness of Life and communicate the mystery and meaning of the metaphysical realm, as I understand it. Whether it involves wrestling with my Biblical understanding, reflecting on the practical application of spiritual principles or having an out-of-body experience, it seems important to share it with others. Not because I think I'm special, or that my experiences are extraordinary. On the contrary, I'm convinced that such concerns are quite ordinary, and that we all have similar experiences from time to time, each in our own way, with our individual overlays of personality and perception. But we tend to dismiss or overlook them because we've been taught that our inner lives are not as important as our "real work" of making a living and being responsible citizens.
MOVING FORWARD
I believe that this process of expanding our spiritual understanding and integrating it into our daily lives lies at heart of who we truly are. That's why I'm deeply grateful for the work of the Celebration Circle community, as we walk alongside each other on the ever-evolving path of spiritual growth in the post-modern world. In the words of the great 20th century mystic, Pierre Teilhard de Chardin, "We are not human beings having a spiritual experience. We are spiritual beings having a human experience." Thank you for your companionship as we travel this path alone together.
With gratitude and blessings,
Rudi
THANK YOU for holding the Circle in your heart by visualizing a generous flow of financial abundance. Thank you for supporting us as we continue our work of fostering a creative, inclusive approach to spirituality. We are deeply grateful.
No comments:
Post a Comment