Experiencing God 2: The Labyrinth

Wednesday, October 3, 2007

"When you walk in the darkness you do not know where you are going." Jn 12:35b (NRSV)

A labyrinth is meant to focus your thoughts so that you may be open to reflection and prayer.

The verse, above, seems apropos to a labyrinth experience I had while on a mission trip at the Hinton Rural Life Center in Hayesville, NC, because I walked the labyrinth at night while thinking through some things. I walked in darkness, literally and figuratively, that evening.

Nighttime can be reflective time for me. The night tends to be when the busy-ness of the day fades into the background for a while. I felt compelled to walk the labyrinth that particular night. I grabbed a flashlight from the car and went.

Hinton’s labyrinth is tucked away between the main parking lot and one of their retreat buildings. The path to it is lit, but the labyrinth itself is not. Gray and red pavers mark the path, but as the contrast between the colors is poor (even in the daylight), I had to force myself to concentrate to remain on the path. My jumble of thoughts gave way to some order as I walked. By the time I reached the center I had mentally reached a point where I could feel that I was not alone in my existence, in my thoughts, and in my troubles.

Prayer at the center of the labyrinth is meant to be reflective, the midpoint of the spiritual discipline. I was still wrestling through some things in my mind when I had a of moment of profound clarity, a transcendent and powerful moment. It was as if everything stood still and became part of the background except my relationship with God. I felt connected to ‘all that is’ in that moment; the mental wrestling stopped and my thoughts converged -- then I was suddenly aware once again of being in the center of that labyrinth in Western North Carolina. I could hear the breeze through the trees and the night sounds.

I stayed in the center for a little longer, then I walked the path back through the labyrinth and out into the real world once again.

You should try to walk a labyrinth sometime. You may find your own peace in this spiritual discipline or you may not.

Experiencing God 1: Voice in the Night

Monday, June 25, 2007

The beginning of Jesus’ ministry is described in the Gospel of Mark, the oldest of the 4 canonical Gospels, as an experienced event. Yet, most Christians are very uncomfortable with any talk of experiencing God in any visual or auditory sense. When anyone does describe anything close to a visual or auditory event the usual reaction is immediate -- body language cues and verbal responses tend to say “you must be crazy.”

Readers of the Bible find experiences of God liberally throughout the scriptures. To those who read the Bible with a bias toward metaphorical interpretation it is easy to dismiss such declarations as the way writers in their own time and place get their extraordinary points across. I am generally one of these readers -- my head leads my heart.

However, those who have had these experiences describe them as very real. When I hear one of these persons talk, I know that whatever they have experienced, their lives have been touched somehow. What they take away from these experiences tends to be used to better their connection with “all that is”, or if you prefer, Ultimate Reality or God.

I have generally been skeptical of the reality of these experiences outside of the comfortable context of semi-objective academic examination. I’ve not been a proponent of scriptural interpretation that literally says that the baptism experience of Jesus was a voice from above, though the treatment in Mark is easier for me to deal with than the more public treatment in Matthew. Skepticism is built into the Enlightenment-driven world view that I’ve inherited and that fits my NT personality type. World views don’t change easily without overwhelming external stimulus.

I’ve often felt the presence of God, Ultimate Reality, or a connection with “all that is” when I hiked or camped. The natural world, free (at least on the surface) from obvious human manipulation, seemed to be the perfect place for such experiences. However, the most real experience of mine wasn’t abstract and wasn’t awe at the sight in some beautiful natural setting.

I woke up with a start about a year ago with a phrase on my mind, so clear and direct as if I’d had someone shove me awake, looked me straight in the eye and said it. I couldn’t get it out of my head and I tried to rationalize it away. I tried to chalk it up to a dream, an artifact of a favorite hymn that contains similar phrasing (Here I Am, Lord), or to eating the wrong thing too late at night (not really). The phrase? “My people need you.” It has stayed stuck in my mind and is easily recalled -- not as clearly or direct, but not diminished to the point of being filed away. It just won’t go away.

I was 1 year into the Lay Ministry Academy at the time and was already committed to following through with the process. I had already recognized a call to more active and involved ministry in the local church. What more was I to do?

The thing about these experiences is that despite the clarity of the moment and the powerful implications, there isn’t enough clarity to tell me what to do. Who are the people? In what way is my involvement applicable to their need(s)? Am I to take on some task, some role, or champion some cause? How much change is required? There were no answers given. There is no written direction, no punch list of things to complete.

I am more hesitant now to set aside others’ stories of experiences of God when they are brave enough to say anything. I can set head-thinking aside to allow heart-feeling to have some say, because in the night, through 4 little words, I had one of my own.