Look, But Do Not Judge

 The fourth century theologian and philosopher, Augustine of Hippo once wrote, "The gaze of the eyes can only reproduce what it sees, but by no means judge."

I'm not entirely sure what he meant by it... the use of the word 'can' rather than 'should', renders his meaning a little opaque, or at least to me. Because in my experience, most of us constantly make judgements about what we see. Even when it would be wiser to discover more before passing judgement.

I can remember a television advert for The Guardian, many years ago, which made a deep impression on me. First the viewer sees a picture of a little old lady walking down a city street. Then the camera cuts to a young man running along the same street. And the mind instantly jumps to the conclusion that the young man is up to no good - perhaps he is planning to attack the old lady... Then we see him jump at her, grabbing her. An instant later, the viewer realises that the young man has saved her from serious injury, if not death, as a piece of falling masonry lands where she was standing.

The moral of the "story" was that we should not judge by appearances, but investigate what is happening more carefully, by reading The Guardian. And I have never forgotten it. I cannot remember what the slogan was, but I do remember the feeling of revelation - that we should never judge on first sight.

Perhaps we need to bring all of ourselves to the matter of judgement - not only our physical senses, but also our intuition, our intellect and our compassion. So that we do not judge by appearance only.

Symbols of the Eternal

 Gertrude von le Fort was a German novelist, poet and essayist, who wrote, "Nothing earthly is eternal, but everything earthly can become a symbol of the eternal."

And she is absolutely right. I have written before about my belief that it is the presence of the Spirit - that of God within us, which enables us to be aware of the glories around us which enables us to see the eternal in earthly things. 

But we also need to be aware of that little word "symbol". Any earthly object which inspires us to discern the eternal is always and only a symbol, not the eternal itself. Which applies not only to nature, but also to people. As the Buddha advised, "I am a finger pointing to the moon. Don't look at me; look at the moon."

Which is not to say that God / the Spirit / the Divine is not present, immanent in the world. Because I do believe that too. I believe that the entire world is sacramental and wrote about this in March 2020, here. So yes, "everything earthly can become a symbol of the eternal". But it is not the eternal itself.

We are so blessed to be able to perceive the eternal in earthly things. Let us strive to be awake and aware of its presence, as often as we can.

What's So Wonderful About That?

 This week's quotation, by François Mauriac, the 20th century novelist, dramatist, critic, poet and journalist, reads, "Man quickly becomes accustomed to the miracles he performs himself."

And I'm afraid he's right. We are surrounded by miracles which we do not recognise as such, because they are part of our daily lives. I'm writing this blogpost now on my laptop, and took the photo above on my iPhone and sent it to myself by e-mail, downloaded it to my laptop, then uploaded it to this post. Which took less time than the words have taken to type. 

But I can remember the days (not so very long ago) when it was unusual to have a computer in the home and mobile phones did not exist. And in the earliest days of the internet, the only way of connecting with it was dial up - who remembers the gloingle gloingle noise it used to make? - and each page loaded with glacial slowness. The possibility of instant connection to the wider world around me still fills me with wonder. Or, it does when I remember to think about it.

It is so easy to be come blasé about the everyday miracles of our lives, to take them completely for granted. It takes more effort to be sufficiently awake and aware to say "Wow!" occasionally, when something goes right without effort. To remember when the accomplishment of this everyday miracle would have been incredibly difficult, if not impossible, because no-one had invented the technology yet.

I make no apology for repeating once mre the beautiful prayer quoted by Rachel Naomi Remen in her book, My Grandfather's Blessings, as it is a wonderful antidote to this sort of cynical, blasé, seen-it-all-before mindset:

"Days pass and the years vanish

and we walk sightless among miracles.

Lord, fill our eyes with seeing

and our minds with knowing.

Let there be moments when your Presence,

like lightning, illuminates

the darkness in which we walk.

Help us to see, wherever we gaze,

that the bush burns, unconsumed.

And we, clay touched by God,

will reach out for holiness and

exclaim in wonder,

"How filled with awe is this place

and we did not know it."

"Help us to see, wherever we gaze, that the bush burns, unconsumed." Yes, amen, amen.

The Sameness of Sky

 I love this week's quotation, by the American writer and aviator, Anne Morrow Lindbergh, "The sky is the same all over the world, no matter how the world changes."

The truth of this came home to me the first time when I was flying out to Boston Airport, in preparation for spending a magical week on Star Island. As we took off from Heathrow, the sky was overcast. But once we broke through the cloud cover, it was all blue sky and fluffy white clouds - beautiful. I blogged about it here. And I will always remember flying in over Boston Harbour at sunset - the beauty of it took my breath away.

Her words are also true for our spiritual lives - on the mundane level of our everydays, the weather may be changeable, like the world that surrounds us. One day, all may be light and bright and wonderful, the next all gloom, doom, and despondency. At such times, I find it helpful to remember that God is the unchanging power of Love at the centre of everything, unaffected by the ups and downs of my life.

I've also learned that each of us has a deepest part, that is forever innocent, forever unwounded, not affected by our life experiences. The Quakers call it "that of God in everyone". If we can somehow connect with this deepest part of ourselves, it can give us some valuable perspective as we slog through the changing landscapes of our lives.

Every time I see a gap in the clouds, I am reminded of this truth, which helps to ground and centre me as I walk through the story of my days.