The Burning
Oneness Binding Everything
I
am entering the blogosphere to share some of my spiritual and human experiences
as a Quaker and lover of the world.
| Experiencing "The Burning One-ness" in Kenya, April, 2012 |
In
this poem, Boulding describes the difficulty of seeking the divine when it
feels so distant, so incomprehensibly grand and removed from us. He speaks of being “imprisoned,” “bound” in
his mortal body, separated from the incomprehensibly grand Spirit. He laments that, whatever Truth he glimpses
“forever slips from out [his] clutch,” describing it as a “tiny cupful” from an
ocean of Truth. How can he really know
God and Truth?
This
has been my experience also. As I
understand it, the Spirit, or “God,” is a mystery, experienced by me indirectly,
principally through beauty, love and worship. For
decades, I have plunged into experiences of beauty in the natural world, in
music and art. I have loved and been
loved deeply, drawing great strength from these experiences. I have felt the
presence of something wonderful and powerful.
I generally refer to this as the Spirit, or sometimes as God. But I also kept hearing a challenging voice:
“That’s not really God. You’re supposed
to hear a clear voice in the silence.
You should discern the will of God for you.” Like Boulding, I frequently feel constrained,
limited, unable to hear God the way I should.
So do my experiences qualify as genuine glimpses of the divine?
Boulding
responds to these questions powerfully. As in all good sonnets, he turns sharply
in the last six lines. “And Yet,” says
the poet, “some Thing that moves among the stars,/ And holds the cosmos in a
web of law,/ Moves too in me…” Returning
to the image of imprisonment, he boldly states that this “Thing” melts the “ancient
bars” that separate him from the Spirit.
And then he knows that he is part of “The burning one-ness binding
everything.”
I
will be sharing many more reflections on my spiritual journey, all of which
have been formed through incredibly rich experiences of people, of the natural
world, and of beauty. I expect to come back at times to the question—“Is this
really the divine?” I am hoping that
some of you will respond with your own questions, challenges, and of course,
stories of your own experiences. And I would welcome your comments here on this blog post.
There
Is a Spirit Which I Feel
Can I, imprisoned, body-bound, touch
The starry garment of the Oversoul,
Reach from my tiny part to the great
Whole,
And spread my Little to the Infinite
Much,
When Truth forever slips from out my
clutch,
And what I take indeed, I do but dole
In cupfuls from a rimless ocean-bowl
That holds a million million million
such?
And
Yet, some Thing that moves among the stars,
And
holds the cosmos in a web of law,
Moves
too in me: a hunger, a quick thaw
Of
soul that melts the ancient bars,
As
I, a member of creation, sing
The
burning one-ness binding everything.
NB:
Kenneth Boulding’s There Is A Spirit: The Naylor Sonnets, is available from
Amazon.com. My Pendle Hill pamphlet, The Burning One-ness Binding Everything: A
Spiritual Journey, is available from the FGC Bookstore: www.fgcquaker.org/deepen/religious-education/quakerbooks-fgc
Very very nice. I learned from a friend who was recently feeling a bit of liberation in his spiritual life through a similar concept. He told me (not in sonnet form : ) that he took some advice and began lowering his expectations for his spirituality and for life in general. He started moving away from his old ideas and began accepting his own limited and flawed human experience. When he put this idea into practice he began to live more freely and, as a result, he is now more often inspired by the presence of God. Since I heard my friend tell of his approach I have been practicing it, flouting it, or forgetting about it all together. In other words, I'm doing a great job! Thanks for helping me remember that I can free myself from this unrealisticism (new word), and that God presents himself when I least expect it. love, Josh
ReplyDeleteThat's great Josh. It's true--the Spirit is in us and about us, if we just open ourselves to that presence. It doesn't have to always be a big deal.
ReplyDeletePerhaps this is a description of what I feel at St. Mark's Episcopal Cathedral (Seattle) these days. I do not assent to the doctrine with my mind, but I am moved by the old words (the King James version of the Bible would be fine with me, and the 1929 Book of Common Prayer, although neither are liberal in a political sense), by the Eucharist and especially by the music, which starts in the Renaissance and flows up to works created this year for the choir. Couldn't be farther from a silent meeting for worship -- the enormous pipe organ alone would make a quiet person cower, even if it weren't being played -- but regularly I sense in the liturgy something beyond myself. Alas for my not being born Episcopalian; would that have eased my journey?
ReplyDelete