I looked outside my bedroom window this morning to a blaze of autumn color peeking above the rooftops.
Delivered by the rising sun, the tree’s glowing beauty demanded a second look, so I gazed upon it for a while before finally searching out my camera to preserve the moment. Yet, as with any sacred souvenir I’ve ever attempted to capture, the image I have is less than what I experienced first-hand.
The autumn-blazed tree reminds me of other numious moments in life that defy tidy summaries: the birth of a child, say, or the marriage between man and woman or for me, the taking of Holy Communion. To explain them at all is to explain them away.
I am reminded of words written by C.S. Lewis on the subject of truth and reality: “truth is always about something, but reality is that about which truth is.” Somewhere, in all my many readings, I’ve stumbled across the thought that goodness and beauty and truth are conductors of Reality. Reality with a capital “R” — the very word many Christian mystics use for God. After all, how can one explain any of the three — in words? Yet we know truth when we hear it. Beauty when we see it. Goodness when touched by it.
One of my very favorite biblical stories — a mystical one, of course — comes from the third chapter of Exodus. It’s the story of how Moses stumbled upon God by taking a closer look at a burning bush. Well one stumble leads to another, and before Moses had barely taken off his sandals, God had commissioned Moses to go to Egypt, to set God’s people free. To this shocking left-field demand, Moses volleys back a nonsensical sort of “Who’s on First” response, by asking God to tell him His name. And unlike Moses, not one to beat around a blazing bush, God gives Moses His name. In two short syllables, it’s often translated as “I AM” or “I AM WHO I AM.”
God’s name goes to show how much can be conveyed, even when words are few. Then there are these, found in Book VII of Elizabeth Barrett Browning’s Aurora Leigh:“Earth’s crammed with heaven, And every common bush afire with God, But only he who sees takes off his shoes; The rest sit around and pick blackberries.”
Cameras are funny things. When I try desperately to capture a special image, I fail. When I’m more casual, and just shoot away, I often will find something truly wonderful inside the camera – but only after I upload the pictures to the computer!
There are surprises all around, being lighted up from this angle and that. I suppose our job is just to keep our eyes open, and see.
What I’m most surprised about just now is Aurora Leigh. I’ve never read the poem, or even heard of it – but I do know a boat that carries that name! Now, I’m curious. Does it belong to a professor of English? A poetry fan? Or just someone who saw something, took off his shoes and climbed aboard for the journey, leaving the blackberry pickers behind? 😉
Just hearing about the Aurora Leigh makes me want to know its owner. But would I dare to seek him or her out? Perhaps I would — as I recall that recent bold call I made to my father’s family who, before we talked, had never heard of me or my father.
Here’s another one of my favorite bites of nourishment from EBB’s great poem:
“That, if we say a true word, instantly
We feel ’tis God’s, not ours, and pass it on
As bread at sacrament, we taste and pass
Nor handle for a moment, as indeed
We dared to set up any claim to such!”
ps: I’ve been meaning to tell you about this blog…
Matt and Jojang’s Blog. They’re a young couple in the Philippines – I think you would enjoy their current post especially. Seems related to what you’ve written here, in some way.
Thanks for the link — their struggle to define joy and happiness is surely a litmus test.
Underpinning their words and mine is that river of Reality which births different steams — truth, beauty, goodness and Joy — perhaps with the hope that if we miss one, we’ll notice another. Following either stream can only land us at the Source.