Time, Twilight, and Eternity. Thom Rock
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Название: Time, Twilight, and Eternity

Автор: Thom Rock

Издательство: Ingram

Жанр: Религия: прочее

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isbn: 9781498242776

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СКАЧАТЬ is.”

      And, of course this might work once or twice, until the curious expanding little mind catches on. So, we transpose the why into the more answerable how and explain the science or physics of something. But that still hasn’t answered the question. We can always figure out how. It’s the why that always leaves us wondering. I can study and come to understand, for example, the fascinating science and optics of how twilight interacts with the rods and cones of our eyes. But that doesn’t come anywhere near answering what I think is the more interesting question of why the dawn or dusk stirs the soul or imagination so. That’s something else entirely.

      Truth is never singular.

      There are forces in the universe which we do not, and cannot understand, despite our endless inquiry—forces that are not diminishing but expanding. Forces that bind atom to atom across time and space; forces like gravity that bring us into each other’s orbit; forces that catch us when we fall and lift us up; forces that propel light through darkness faster than we can ever imagine. Some refer to the dynamic forces that are thought to move throughout the universe as Shakti. Others call those same forces Brahma, or Holy Spirit, or even God (by whatever name). Still others call this life-force Source, or the Absolute, or the Tao. For some the forces that both expand and hold together the universe are simply energy, light, and matter.

      I use the word “prayer” to express the discipline of striving to pay attention to the why and speechless wonder of these forces. But there are plenty of other choices. If you’re not comfortable with prayer, there’s contemplation, concentration, careful observation, or even the call of the heart. For some putting one foot in front of the other can be prayer. Listening deeply is perhaps one of the most profound spiritual disciplines. I would no sooner presume to tell you what words to use when engaging with the eternal than how to do it. If a word gets in your way, translate it into something that has meaning for you and what you take seriously about life. The Sufi mystic Jalal al-Din Rumi famously noted there are hundreds of ways to kneel and kiss the ground. The Talmud states that it is permissible to pray in any language that you can understand. “Pray as you can,” one Christian monastic adage councils, “not as you can’t.”

      There is, in fact, a charming story from the Jewish tradition that speaks to this aspect prayer. There was once a young boy who wanted to pray but did not yet know many Hebrew words; all he knew was the letters of the aleph-beth, or “alphabet,” so that became his prayer. One day as he was praying what he knew—his letters—a rabbi heard him and asked why he prayed in that way. The wise little one declared, “The Holy One knows my heart. I give him the letters, and he puts the words together.”

      Eventually, the Benedictine sense of time overflowed the walls of medieval monasteries and the Liturgy of the Hours became a rhythm of life even for some who lived and worked in the distinctly secular villages beyond the religious compounds. Elegantly penned and bound Christian devotional manuscripts known as “Books of Hours” contained an abbreviated form of the Divine Office designed for the average lay person and were widely available and popular by the fifteenth century. The original daily planners, every appointment was with God. Their pages were comprised of a collection of litanies, prayers, psalms, and excerpts from the Gospels, and were considered palm-sized and portable cathedrals. The wide margins surrounding the elegant medieval calligraphy of each page’s sacred text were often elaborately decorated with illustrations—illuminations—of the daily, the mundane, and the ordinary moments of everyday life.

      If the mystics were right, as surely they were, and every creature is a book about God, then each moment is a letter in a sacred alphabet even if we don’t yet understand the whole word. And every one of our hours is a holy chapter in the story of eternity—the story of us.

      A book of ours.