More ramblings a la Nouwen...

Two days ago, a book that has been patiently sitting on the shelf in my study at church decided to leap off and call attention to itself.  Apparently, it was time for me to take notice.  From all I can discern, we've kept company since 2005 meaning this little volume joined my other printed friends at least two years BEFORE we moved from Tucson.  Oh well, when the student is ready and all that...

The anticipated blizzard is now starting to make itself known in the Berkshires, too:  we could have up to 16" before it moves elsewhere to share its abundance.  So this strikes me as a perfect day to spend with my new/old friend and ponder some of the insights of Henri Nouwen.  I was particularly taken with something I read last night after our jazz gig and appreciate the hard won wisdom it honors:

Just as a creative dialogue with other human beings cannot be simply left to our natural responses, so our intimate conversation with God needs formation and training... (for we are in a) struggle from absurd living to obedient living.  The words "absurd" is, in fact, derived from the Latin surdus meaning "deaf." Absurd living is a way in which we remain deaf to the voice which speaks to us in our silence... the world in which we live conspires against our healing that voice and tries to make us absolutely deaf... being filled yet unfulfilled, being busy yet bored, being involved yet lonely, these are the symptoms of the absurd life. (The Dance of Life, p. 28)

I've been there, have you?  Running around so busy I can't keep the details straight, so simultaneously saturated with feelings and commitments that I felt sick but also so starving for love that I couldn't stop stuffing myself with experiences, literally terrified to be by myself while detesting the company that surrounded me?  Absurd is the right word: deaf to God's love, too busy to be embraced by grace, too full to know what I was truly feeling.  My experience suggests that Nouwen is right when he says we need "formation and training" in order to move into intimacy with the sacred.  I had to be led through my inner wilderness, cherished and challenged along the way by someone far wiser than myself, too.  I had to be shown how to turn my addiction over to a love greater than myself so that there might be room within for something besides my wounds.  I had to be emptied in order to be filled and forgiven.

Living in a place that welcomes blizzards helps as the weather gives me permission to stop and simply rest.  Practicing Sabbath does much the same thing.  Yesterday a colleague mentioned how surprised he was to get an automatic email reply that "I would love to check in with you but I am away honoring the Sabbath.  I'll be back in touch soon." I still not very good with honoring the Sabbath but I am still in formation - practice - training. I came across this quote from Mary Oliver last week that says it best:  "When will you have a little pity for every soft thing that walks through the world ~ yourself included?"

So, here's to a little Sabbath house cleaning today ~ and lots of snow ~ and more ramblings with Brother Henri Nouwen.  As I gaze on the subtle greys of the field behind our house I feel the quiet as the afternoon ripens:  Heureux sabbat!

1) The Love of Dance @ finerart.com - Paul St. George