Sacred Wondering, Sacred Wandering
Musings during the season of Advent
Gregory of Nyssa, commenting on the vastness of the words found in Psalm 8:1 (O Lord, our Lord, your majestic name fills the earth! Your glory is higher than the heavens.), stated:
“God’s name is not known; it is wondered at.”
Wonder. I wonder what it is God wants to say to us, to me, to you…
But first, something about wandering. Really, I like wandering. And just the other day I gathered with our church for our midweek prayer practice which was actually just me and a faithful woman named Emma. She was guiding the practice and she invited us into a time of “sacred wandering” and that’s just brilliant. Honestly, it’s like freewriting, a practice I engage with often as an aspiring writer.
Perhaps wandering is not being lost, like that pithy bumper sticker reminds us, but instead, maybe it’s also sacred. What if wandering is something we all do? A slew of humanity traversing trails that spin in spirals, round and round, ever wandering together.
I like the image of wandering in sacred spirals.
We might be going down or we might be going up but God knows we keep going round and round, making our way back to previous plot points with new perceptions. I think I like to assume we arrive for a second (or third or fourth) time with fresh wisdom or insight, but I often arrive dejected.
Like, what the hell am I doing here again? Really, another moment of insecurity? Another busted friendship? Another instance of relational strife? More delusional heartbreak? Another opportunity to trust the slow work of God?
Like God, are you ever going to hurry up?! Heal me and the world and my friends… and I guess my enemies, if you’re healing the world. But come on already. Quit stalling. Why are you making us wait?
What is revealed in the waiting and the revisiting of those plot points we know too well? I have sat here before and you didn’t show, you didn’t speak. In fact, it was like you were invisible and utterly un-identifiable.
You really are a damn mystery, God!
I think the cynic in me likes this, though. And I think the believer in me likes it too. Like I just called you, God, a “damn mystery” but I also believe YOU ARE A MYSTERY. Which, if we’re digging down, is to acknowledge that you are. Maybe even that you are the God who is with us.
So perhaps you’re never gone or absent, but you’re sure as hell silent. Although, maybe you do your best work when you’re silent so I can hear your heart beating as you embrace me…
And here I am, in my sacred wandering via what feels like some freewriting and I find again, that I’ve wandered into your presence. Like you’ve been here all along.
I wonder if this is what you wanted to say to me, God.