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- Herausgeber: IVP Formatio
- Kategorie: Religion und Spiritualität
- Sprache: Englisch
- Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2019
- 2019 IVP Readers' Choice AwardWhere can I turn to see God? How can I more clearly recognize God's nearness and initiative in my life? These are vital questions if you desire to know and experience the living God. As spiritual directors, Beth and David Booram have guided many people into deeper awareness of this living, present God at work within their lives. When Faith Becomes Sight will help you grow in confidence that God is attentive to you and involved in your life as you learn to recognize God in and around you, reflect on your experience, and respond faithfully to God's presence and action in your life. Along the way you may venture across new streets and encounter unfamiliar terrain as you notice how God is speaking and what God is doing. In those silent, shimmering moments, you will be invited to greet the One who has been seeking you your entire life—the Divine Presence who is all around you.
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TO OUR FALL CREEK ABBEY COMMUNITY
of spiritual directors whose deep and loving presence is helping others see with the eyes of the heart.
AND TO THOSE WHO HAVE INVITED US
to accompany them as spiritual directors as they seek to discern the presence
In order that an experience have a religious dimension two things are necessary: God who can be encountered directly and a person who is on the lookout for God.
Contents
Preface
THE DOORBELL RANG ABOUT 11 A.M. one Tuesday morning. I (Beth) opened the door and welcomed Rick into the foyer of Fall Creek Abbey, our home and retreat house. I’d met him before, but this was the first time that we would meet for spiritual direction. Seeing him again reminded me of my previous impressions—that he was a gentle, soft-spoken, kind man. I asked if he’d like a cup of coffee or tea. “No,” he responded. “I’m fine—already had my quota.”
I showed him to my office, a small room off the living room. Rick sat in the chair opposite me, looking out the window into our backyard. We took a few minutes to exchange small talk. Once I sensed that he was comfortable, I asked how familiar he was with spiritual direction. He explained that he’d heard about it for some time, liked the sound of it, and because of all that was going on in his life, felt it was time to seek some support.
We began with a brief period of silence in which I suggested that Rick ask God to help him identify what he should focus on during our time. He agreed. I watched as he bowed his head and closed his eyes. I did the same, praying silently a simple prayer of dependence.
Finally, Rick broke the silence by beginning to speak. His voice was soft and speech was slow. He told me about the last several years as the senior leader in a nonprofit organization. He was chosen for this role after a tumultuous season when the founder was asked to resign. For the first few years Rick felt empowered and energized by the work and confident in God’s calling. Yet for the last year and a half, he’d begun to wonder if he was really the man for the job, if he really had what it took to do the job well.
This wasn’t all, Rick explained. He’d had some health issues that made him feel fatigued and not himself. One of his adult kids had struggled with depression, and he didn’t know what to do or how to help. And his prayer life; it felt empty, meaningless and dry. It hadn’t always been that way. But for some time, he’d begun to wonder where God was for him. Why God seemed so silent and distant. He processed out loud how this stage of the Christian life wasn’t what he’d expected. And he was at a loss as to how to make sense of everything.
I listened intently, praying to discern which thread of his story to give a tug. I finally asked, “Rick, if you were to say in a sentence or two why you’re here today, what would you say?” He paused for a long moment. And then he said, “Even though I’m disappointed with God and life, and God seems so far away, I still want to be close to him.” His eyes glistened at this admission. I nodded my head, feeling the integrity of his response. “Rick, what if the very longing you feel is an indication of the Spirit at work, awakening you more fully to God?”
Rick’s countenance lightened a bit. He confessed that it was something he’d never considered. “If that were true, Rick, what might that reveal about how God is being toward you right now?” Again, he took his time to answer. And then he said, “It feels a little frustrating. I wish he would just show up and speak clearly or do something for me rather than just make me feel so desperate for him.”
“Yes. That’s understandable.” I responded. “Why might God want you to feel so desperate for him? Is there anything in your desperation that might be important to experience?” This time, there was no pause. He blurted out with more conviction, “I think my desperation for God is making me seek him more than ever—more than anything. I think that’s probably a good thing, right?” He grinned.
“What do you think? Is it good?” He exhaled a reply, “Yes. It’s good. I guess it even feels good to want to be closer to God in a way that I haven’t for a long time.”
This conversation, though specific to Rick and his life situation, had a familiar ring to it. Not only did it remind us of the many stories we’ve heard in hundreds of hours spent in holy listening, it also resonated with our own lives and experience of God. We are two people who know what it is like to feel disillusioned, to struggle because the Christian life we’re experiencing doesn’t match what we had pictured life to be as a follower of Jesus.
EYES TO SEE
We’ve written this book out of the harvest of more than four decades of following Christ and a decade’s time of offering spiritual direction. We hope you will benefit from the generous framework we offer—one large enough to hold the things that are perplexing, disturbing, and incongruent with reason and rationality. In short, rather than trying to fit God and life into a system of beliefs, this book suggests that we can find God by paying attention to our own lived experience, that we can, as St. Ignatius said, “find God in all things.” Not that God causes all things but we can discover God present and available to us in the midst of all. To do so, what we need most are eyes to see God.
At first, that statement sounds as though some of us have “it” and others don’t. As if some willfully choose blindness over sight. But our observations suggest that most people truly want to know whether God is present and active in their lives. So the lack of seeing is not out of stubborn refusal but rather out of simply not knowing what to look for or not recognizing unfamiliar expressions of the presence and action of God—like desire and desperation, as Rick discovered.
The intent of this book is to help you gain assurance that God is with you and is actively involved in your life and world by growing three capacities: your capacity to recognize God, reflect on your experience, and respond faithfully to God’s presence and involvement in your life.
Here’s a brief description of what we mean:
Recognize. There are two things that must be true for you to recognize God. God must want to be experienced and you must be looking for God. For the divine to be experienced, your encounter will invariably be mediated. In other words, God will come to you through something else: a “burning bush” in nature, an inner quiet prompting, a dream or vision, an evocative Gospel story, a recurring theme, or through some much-needed provision. The medium is not always tangible, but it is sensory. In other words, through your human senses, including your emotions, you perceive God through the experience. So, for you to recognize God you must have eyes to see God and expect to see God through a variety of holy, ordinary, and sometimes extraordinary showings.
Not only is learning to recognize God’s mediated presence necessary for your assurance, so is a repeated experience of God’s presence. When you have an experience, it is never isolated or simply episodic. It is an experience that builds on the past. You recognize an oak tree because you’ve had a past relationship with oak trees in which you noticed their particularities and logged their appearance in your library of botanical memories. The same happens when faith becomes sight. Through repeated noticing of God, your faith is strengthened as you become more adept at identifying Christ’s invitations and overtures of love toward you.
Reflect. Once you gain the skills to track the Spirit’s movement in your life, you will learn the value of reflecting on your experience. Reflection takes time. Reflection requires intention. Reflection is what takes the encounter into you, allowing it to affect you, to find a place of resonance within you. It’s what allows an ordinary event in your life to become deeply personal, spiritual, and transforming. These kinds of experiences deepen your assurance of God’s nearness as they become windows through which you see the activity of the divine.
Respond. Not only will you be encouraged throughout this book to learn to recognize God’s presence within and all around you and reflect on your experiences, you will also be prompted to notice your response to God in your experiences. We are rarely aware that as we perceive God’s initiating presence we also respond to it with some variation of openness or resistance. Paying attention to your response will help you assess if that is how you want to respond. If that is what it means for you to respond faithfully and fully to God’s initiatives.
Rick had an initial reaction to God when he realized that God might be in his desperation. He felt frustrated. Why didn’t God make it easier on him by being more deliberate in his actions or by speaking more clearly? Fortunately, once he reflected on his desperation, he began to see the gift in it. His desperation and the feeling of God’s silence or absence made him want God more, thirst for God more earnestly. And in that increased thirst, he developed a more resolute surrender to his desire for God and commitment to seek God alone.
A word about how this book is organized. It’s divided into three sections and will invite you to consider your experience of God through three distinct directions of focus: looking for certain phenomena in your experience of life, looking through several conscious and unconscious lenses you may have, and looking within your own interior life of emotions, sensations, and spiritual movements. May these three vantage points help your faith become sight as you open your eyes more fully to God’s presence all around you.
Shimmering Attractions
We saw His star, and we have followed its glisten and gleam all this way to worship Him.
WHEN I (DAVID) TURNED FIFTY, I was reflecting on where I’d come from, who I was, and where I was going. I come from a long line of artists, and though I had always deeply appreciated visual art, I had never explored my own talent (or lack of it). So I shared this with Beth, who, in her typical noticing way, gave me a certificate for an art class at a local community art center. I discovered quickly that each day I had an art class was the best day of the week, and that I did have the seeds of some latent talent I could access.
One portrait class I took was taught by Ellie Siskind. I vividly recall my struggle throughout the course to represent mouths and noses, expressions and gestures. Yet the one thing that stood out from Ellie’s instruction was her use of cadmium red as an underpainting technique. Cadmium red has a slight orange-like hue that almost vibrates when you see it. Ellie would underpaint her portraits with the color and then cover over 99 percent with the natural tints of the subject. The small amounts of the red that remained around the edges or were allowed to break through suggested vitality, energy, life. Even though not central to the painting, the red’s presence excited.
A shimmering attraction in the spiritual sense has a similar quality. It might be a common object, scene, or sound, or it might be infinitely rare. Yet like the striking effect of this artistic technique, God draws our attention to something in our life. He animates the inanimate. And its presence excites.
Sometimes these shimmering attractions happen on the road you’ve taken a thousand times or through the window you’ve looked out every morning as you make the coffee. Suddenly, though often subtly, something lifts from the scene before you with inexplicable prominence. It might not be unusual at all, or it might be quite extraordinary. Whatever it is, for some reason you are drawn in, drawn toward this glistening point of interest in order to take a closer look.
TAKE OFF YOUR SANDALS
One of the most poignant examples of this type of God encounter in the Bible is the story of Moses and the burning bush. At the time it happened, Moses was watching his father-in-law’s flock of sheep. One day, he decided to lead them into the wilderness, choosing a path that curved toward Sinai, the mountain of God. The hot, dry climate lent itself to wildfires, usually caused by lightning strikes. So, as he approached and noticed a bush engulfed with flames he might have formed an initial rational explanation. Yet something about what he saw provoked him enough to take a deeper look.
Read slowly this first-person perspective we’ve crafted based on the biblical account in Exodus 3:1-6, paying attention to the scene as it progresses, noticing what you notice:
One crisp morning I was shepherding my father-in-law’s flock of sheep as I did on most mornings. For some reason, I guided them far away from the usual paths and pastures to the other side of the desert and came to a place known as Horeb.
As I approached a small bluff there, a special messenger of the eternal One appeared to me in a fiery blaze from what looked like a bush. I did a double take, blinked the sand out of my eyes, and peered at the bush, but to my amazement the bush wasn’t consumed by the inferno. I thought to myself, or to be honest whispered out loud to no one in particular, Why’s this bush not burning up? I instinctively moved closer to get a better look.
As the eternal One saw me approach the bush to observe it, he addressed me by name and said, “Moses, Moses!” You can imagine how shocked I was, but cautiously whispered, with eyes closed now, “Here I am.” Then I heard the words, whether with my ears or in my spirit, “Take off your sandals and stand barefoot on the ground, for now you know I am here and where I AMis holy ground.”
Was the bush on fire, yet not burning? Or was the Presence within the bush afire with dazzling brilliance? Suddenly, it doesn’t matter. Whatever the source of the shimmering, Moses was accosted by this unanticipated sight in which he encountered the Lord in the middle of this flaming shrub! What do you notice as you read the story? Does anything provoke curiosity, a question, or spark new insight related to this familiar yet strange scene?
Here are a few observations:
First, notice how Moses seems inadvertently drawn toward the wilderness on this path that led to Mt. Sinai. Though a lot of Old Testament history will happen later on Mt. Sinai, at this point, Moses would have had no sense of that. Isn’t it curious that he was prompted to take an unfamiliar path to a place that would become saturated with significance to him and to Israel in the not-too-distant future? (Remember, Mt. Sinai is where Moses met with God for forty days and received the Ten Commandments.)
Second, observe Moses’ amazement at what he saw. Though his brain could have provided a rational explanation, he seemed to know immediately that there was something extraordinary about this flaming bush, a “cadmium red” quality about the fire that shimmered even though the bush was not destroyed.
Did you see the effect this shimmering attraction had on Moses? He was drawn toward it, convinced that he needed to move closer, to pay closer attention.
Finally, once God saw Moses approach the bush to observe it more closely, God called to him by name. God spoke—once he was assured that Moses noticed the shimmering attraction and was walking toward it to give this curiosity his full attention.
This encounter can make us wonder how many times we walk by a “burning bush” and don’t bother to notice it, our curiosity doused before its spark can take hold. How often do we see a glint of something that catches our eye but fail to slow down or stop and approach because we’re in such a hurry, so pragmatically absorbed in what we’re doing or where we’re going? It is the paradox of revelation and mystery that we encounter in a shimmering attraction yet too often fail to recognize and move toward for a better look.
BEDAZZLED
The phrase shimmering attraction suggests light, reflection, movement. When you encounter an object or scene or sound of this nature, it interrupts your normal consciousness and what you’re doing or thinking about. It grabs your attention, whether it’s as small as a firefly, as subtle as an unfamiliar birdsong, or as encircling as a double rainbow. Generally there is an aspect of beauty; however it may be humble beauty in a garb quite unremarkable.
Shimmering attractions seem to take you by surprise. You don’t seek them; they seek you. When encountered, they cause an inner double take: “Hey, what was that?” “What did I just see?” And yet they also seem a bit ephemeral to your normal consciousness and can be easily dismissed or ignored. You may circle back to it a few times, being gradually drawn into it as its deeper and personal invitation registers with you.
They also have an alluring quality. They draw you in, begging for closer examination, for deeper reflection. Shimmering attractions arouse your curiosity as they lift off the page of your life like a highlighted phrase or sentence, drawing your attention and registering with importance. In fact, the word shimmering is often used in contemplative literature to explain lectio divina, an ancient way of listening to God’s personal word in Scripture. In the first movement of lectio, we are often instructed to listen for the word or phrase that shimmers.
It’s also not uncommon for there to be an element of place and timing when you encounter one of these divine displays. You find yourself at the right place, at the right time, under the right circumstance. For Moses, it was simply another day as he shepherded his flock near Mt. Sinai. But it was also a time when God was increasingly grieved by the oppression of the Israelites in Egypt and moved to initiate action because of their cries of distress. God lit a fire to get Moses’ attention, to ask for his help in delivering the Israelites from their harsh enslavement and to lead them into their own fertile and spacious land (Exodus 3:7-8).
One final note about these shimmering attractions: They often deliver the personal message “God sees me.” Unlike encountering a transcendent moment (discussed in chap. 3), which opens us to see God in a new and expansive way, this particular beacon of light transmits a signal that actually confirms to us that just as “God’s eye is on the sparrow, so his eye is on me.” For that reason, these encounters are particularly meaningful because you come to know experientially that you are seen by God.
Though each shimmering attraction has its own unique presentation and is its own unique experience, the nature of each will share some or most of these qualities. See if you recognize them in the following example as it happened in the life of one of Beth’s directees, whom we will call Terri.
A SLIVER OF MOON
Three o’clock a.m. is a dreadful time to be awake. Terri agonized as she considered the conundrum: the amount of sleep up to this point wasn’t enough for the day ahead, and the amount of sleep left to the night, if it came, would leave her groggy and in a stupor. So she finally gave in and slipped stealthily from her bed, hoping not to wake her husband or the dogs. Unfortunately, the latter were on to her.
Terri made her way, dogs in tow, to the kitchen, where she opened the sliding glass door to let them out. Immediately her attention was arrested by a sliver of moon squarely in her line of sight. This moon, more than three quarters obscured by darkness, left evidence of only a squint of the sphere. Terri gazed at it, lingering with its presentation, something so alluring to her that she couldn’t look away.
Quietly and without fanfare a gentle thought formed in her mind. This is how you see things. You see only a small part. I see it all. The thought registered soundly with her. It addressed something she knew about herself, of her tendencies to judge life situations on partial knowledge, giving way to fear and feelings of intimidation. The words she heard were not sharp or condemning. They didn’t shame or rebuke or chastise. They were spoken simply and gently. She knew they were for her. And she suspected they were from God.
Terri carried this experience with her for several days, continuing to reflect on its meaning and the general sensation it left her with. She wondered at the fact that the moon only presents itself as a sliver at certain times of the lunar cycle and directly in view from her back door only during this particular season. She also considered her waking from a deep sleep for no apparent reason. Was God’s Spirit subtly nudging her to wake up? Was God drawing her toward something he wanted to speak through? Does God do that?
As we processed this experience together in spiritual direction, Terri was fully assured of God’s presence and action through this crescent luminary. She shared her experience with me in a calm, confident way and with deep gratitude. After all, the God of the universe, the One who created the moon, had leaned toward her to convey something that he felt was important for her to know.
Since this encounter, Terri has noticed that when faced with something happening in life that is overwhelming or not according to her plans, the memory of this incandescent image reminds her that she only sees a small sliver of what is happening. The effect has helped her open more fully to God and trust the One who sees her and the One who sees all.
RESPONDING TO A SHIMMERING ATTRACTION
So how do you respond to an experience of a shimmering attraction? What do you do with it? These questions, so natural to our analytic minds, are likely the wrong ones. It’s possible that God is inviting you to a new experience of the divine, and so God’s changing the channel, so to speak, by initiating in a way that you can’t fully explain or control. In a word, this shimmering attraction may be cradled in mystery. And what should you do when you encounter mystery?
You linger. You slow down and stay with what you’ve encountered, becoming present to it with all your being, senses, and spirit.
You contemplate. As you linger, you take a closer look by allowing that which has drawn your attention to be the singular focus of your attention, letting it be what it is and taking it in.
You wonder. You simply let the questions that emerge within you rise up. You release your need for answers or insight. You allow yourself to marvel, How is it that among all the billions of human beings on this planet I deserve to be so personally addressed in what seems a hand-picked moment?
You bow. You allow the encounter to humble you, to shape your posture into one of meek receptivity. Rather than taking control of the experience, you simply say, “Speak, your servant is listening” (1 Samuel 3:10).
You follow the thread. At times shimmering attractions will be complete and contained at the moment. At other times, they will be a part of a thread in the seam of the fabric of life’s journey—one that other new invitations from God will come through. Like the magi, you see the first shining of his star and then echo their words, “We saw His star, and we have followed its glisten and gleam all this way to worship Him” (Matthew 2:2The Voice).
God longs to grow your sensitivity and responsiveness to these sparkling harbingers as you move through your life’s particular geography and approach each day willing to be interrupted by a burning bush. One way you can practice paying attention is to reflect on the past—the last few days, weeks, or months—and consider whether you’ve had any experiences that now resemble what we’ve described as a shimmering attraction. Here are some questions to help you explore whether it may have been God initiating with you through this means of revelation. (And by the way, we encourage you to process this exercise and others in the book with a spiritual friend or mentor, or in a small group. Something important happens when we use our own words to speak out loud to others what God is inviting us to consider and notice.)
PAUSE FOR REFLECTION
What experience(s) have you had recently that reminds you of a shimmering attraction?
Pick the most prominent one and then recall what stood out to you when you first noticed this alluring signpost.
What in your life needed to be addressed by God through this encounter?
How would you describe your experience of God through it?
How did you react initially to God’s revelation?
How is God inviting you to respond now?
Recurring Themes and Symbols
You know how to interpret the weather signs in the sky, but you don’t know how to interpret the signs of the times!
OUR CHRISTIAN SCRIPTURES, like all sacred writings, are rich with themes, motifs, and symbols. These beautiful icons account for much of the timeless attraction and gifts that generations of people receive from them. Unfortunately, we can become so familiar with the narratives or so immersed in the actual history that we cease to see these enduring patterns that are relevant to our spiritual journey today. Recorded by those whose lives were enriched by them, these timeless threads invite us to notice and consider their current meaning, as well as identify other themes running through our own lives.
Many metathemes emerge again and again throughout the story of God in Scripture: life, death, resurrection; the land, the mountain, the sea; home, exile, and return. We also encounter more concrete motifs that connect with our simple, ordinary lives: fish, bread, seeds, water, wine, trees, and stones. All these themes are echoed again and again, often in a new context with new and refined meaning, but their repetition alerts us to pay attention. We are returning to a refrain that resonates with the holy.
Consider Simon who became the apostle Peter. Who doesn’t know that before all else he was a fisherman? You can easily imagine Peter’s childhood home, the aroma of fish on an open fire, the smell of fish oil on his father’s hands and scales stuck to his beard. Think of the first time his father asked Peter to come with him on the open sea to learn the trade and picture the delight when together they pulled in his first haul. Fish were in his dreams and in his blood.
Peter’s initial recorded encounter with Jesus centers around his occupation. He’s fishing with his brother Andrew and their partners James and John. They’ve had a disappointing night; not uncommon but frustrating when your livelihood depends on it. Jesus, who’d been speaking to a growing crowd at the shore, swings into the boat and encourages the fishermen to set out to the deep waters again. Reluctantly they agree, and after he directs them where to put down their nets, when they draw them up they find they are overflowing with the biggest catch of their lives!
As they’re bringing the fish ashore, perhaps reveling in all they’ll be able to do with the excess profits, Peter oddly tries to send Jesus away, as though overwhelmed by what had happened. Jesus, not put off by Peter’s words, sees into Peter’s heart. He invites Peter to follow him so that Jesus can show him how to cast another kind of net into the sea of humanity, instead of the Sea of Galilee.
Several of Jesus’ miracles pick up the fish theme. With five thousand hungry souls to feed, he enlists Peter and his friends to feed them. Confused, they confess they don’t have the means to provide for such a large crowd—though they could likely calculate how many catches of fish it would take. Instead, Jesus takes the small meal of fish and bread from a young boy and deepens the meaning of the motif. The Lord of the fisherman is also the Lord of the feast.
Peter heard parables about fish and saw a coin taken from the mouth of a fish, not to mention the connecting events involving boats, and nets, and the sea and its storms. The theme continues and deepens, even after the resurrection. When Jesus appears to Peter and the other apostles in the upper room, they are dumbfounded, wondering if he’s a ghost. To prove he is real, Jesus asks if they have anything to eat. They give him a piece of fish.
The culmination of Peter’s encounter with this symbolic icon is recorded in John 21.
The disciples, in spite of the experience of encountering the risen Christ, are restless and untethered. So much has happened and they are struggling to make sense of it all. In a moment of what seems like muscle memory, Peter calls out and tells them “I’m going out to fish.” Several follow, returning to what was familiar or what used to be familiar before Jesus upended their lives. It was a long, unremarkable night, filled with empty silence and no fish.
As the sun comes up they notice a solitary figure on the shore. This stranger calls out to them and asks about their catch. They shrug their shoulders and admit that it’s been a long, unproductive night. The man encourages them to cast their nets on the starboard side of the boat and assures them that they will have better luck. They do, and once again, like a recapitulation of an earlier net-breaking catch, they drag in a monstrous haul. Peter and his friends immediately realize it’s Jesus!
Peter jumps into the water and hurries to the shore while the others bring in the boat and the fish. Stunned and bewildered, he looks around and notices a small charcoal fire with fish and bread on it. It smells delicious and the warmth of the fire begins to warm his wet, stiff body. Jesus, having prepared it for them, asks them to collect some of the fish they’d just caught and set them on the fire with his. As the fish sizzles on the coals, Jesus takes some and offers it to his disciples.
As they sit together eating in silence, Jesus puts his hand on Peter’s arm and steers him away from the circle. He looks into Peter’s searching eyes and asks him; “Do you love me more than these?” These what? Peter must have wondered to himself. These friends, these boats, these fish? Three times Jesus asks the same question, and Peter, unsure what Jesus is fishing for, answers, “Lord, you know everything. You know that I love you.”
Some years later, as the early Christians were being persecuted and some even martyred for their faith, they sought a secret symbol to indicate their allegiance to Jesus. The sign they chose was the simple, unambiguous fish. “Do you love me more than these?” Indeed.
WEAVING PATTERNS
Recurring life themes and motifs, like in a musical composition, are repeated encounters with the same or similar words, ideas, places, stories, songs, experiences, dreams, or symbols that add structure and unify our lives. They weave the disparate parts of your life into a single garment that embodies beauty and design. Noticing them is a valuable practice because they acquaint you with your particular and peculiar soul and lead you toward your unique path of life. When you encounter these patterns, you’re reminded of places you’ve been and lessons you’ve learned about yourself, about your life, about your God.
It might be helpful to take a moment and differentiate some terms that we’re using. First, a theme speaks of the “big idea” of a story or musical composition. It tells us what the story or composition is about. Symbols are images that represent larger themes and more abstract ideas, like a dove for peace or a skull and crossbones for poison. And a motif is a repeating pattern that reinforces a theme. So, while we might use these terms interchangeably, each one does represent a unique idea. Your life is composed of large themes, often represented and reinforced by unique symbols and motifs that are personal, distinctive, and give structure to your life story. What meaningful symbols or motifs come to mind right now? How do they reinforce the major emphasis of your life?
I (Beth) have noticed a life theme emerging through a recurring dream. This nighttime fantasy happens at least yearly, if not a couple of times each year, and I’ve had it now for more than thirty years! In the dream, I’m either pregnant or have just had a baby. Or sometimes my mother is pregnant, or someone in my dream whom I don’t know is pregnant. Or I’m wondering if I’m pregnant but unsure. Or I’m supposed to be pregnant but I don’t look pregnant and worry that the baby has died. As I reflect on this recurring dream, it most clearly speaks to me of my yearning to create and give birth to the new. Because of the demands of a large family, my particular vocation, and my own personality bent, I’ve often given all of my energy to caring for the needs of others. My creative self expresses its longing through these symbolic dreams, awakening me to the need to express myself through birthing and creating.
RESONATING AND REVERBERATING CHORDS
As we’ve learned from Peter, symbolic icons act like strong chords connecting the events of our lives by helping us find their meaning if we are attentive to them. But how do you recognize these substantive chords? Jean-Marie Howe describes what happens within us when we encounter symbols. She suggests that “there is a vast interior space within the human person where the reality signified by the symbol or image can reverberate: this space is what we have been calling the deep heart. The heart harbors unfathomed spiritual depths of infinite resonance.”
Both the words resonance and reverberate are terms describing different sound effects and are keys to recognizing what happens when we encounter important symbols. Howe suggests that our hearts are like an acoustical chamber where certain signs, symbols, or images seem to strike a chord. They reverberate; they resonate. By noticing the sensation of resonance we can identify the symbols that strike a chord with us.
But why? Why that symbol or motif? Why does one person find meaning in the recurring experience of seeing a great blue heron, and it means nothing to someone else? Why is the ocean a symbolic and nostalgic place for some, and others are drawn to mountains? Because themes, symbols, and motifs are uniquely personal and give clues to who we are in our deeper self and what gives substance to our lives. Howe goes on to say, “Symbols and images serve to awaken the heart, causing it to vibrate and resonate, thereby signaling, to all who have ears to hear, the presence of unsuspected or neglected spiritual spheres inherent in human nature.” You recognize a meaningful symbol because it resounds within you, awakens your heart to unknown, hidden depths you didn’t know existed.
Another quality that helps you identify important recurring images and experiences is the way they invite you to return to previous times and experiences. Like the motif in classical music, these elements provide a structure to the music of your life. They are important touchpoints that help you connect the past with the present and cultivate hope for the future. They remind you that you’ve been here before, that this is a familiar place and you know how to find your way.
One of the recurring themes in our lives has been the consistent experience of being “called away” from one thing before we are “called toward” something else. This repeating pattern has happened every time we’ve made a significant move or change. It begins with a growing restlessness or yearning for something more or different, even if there is no apparent reason to seek a change. The hard thing is that we initially have no clarity about what that something more or different is. We will simply feel no longer settled where we find ourselves. This experience is hard to explain to others because it’s so deep and intuitive and not founded on anything other than a vague disquiet and drawing away.
