The following was taken from molma.indigo – Musings from a Spiritual Wanderer
I finished reading Teilhard’s “Hymn of the Universe” (thank you William Ockham) about 2:30 AM this morning. I was so taken by the outpouring of emotion that I felt as I was reading it – I felt as if I were reading my thoughts on the page. It was as if Teilhard had somehow gotten into my head and what I was feeling he was so eloquently and passionately writing down and then he took those feelings to another height. I felt like I had been taken back into the womb of creation itself and I couldn’t put it down because it haunted me to continue. From the writing page 17:
“All of us, Lord, from the moment we are born feel within us this disturbing mixture of remoteness and nearness; and in our heritage of sorrow and hope passed down to us through the ages, there is no yearning more desolate than that which makes us weep with vexation and desire as we stand in the midst of the Presence which hovers about us nameless and impalpable and is dwelling in all things.”
How long must I wait? How long must I endure this endless longing? The opening of a poem I wrote somewhere along my path. I flip back and forth from being Catholic to trying to find another path to bring me closer to Spirit and then back again. What do I want? Throughout the Bible Jesus was always asking people what they wanted from him. What is it I want? I want to get beyond the mediocrity of my feelings and see the rawness of God. To get beyond the sacrifice that is a part of Paul’s Church and get to the love that was and is a part of Jesus. I want to know what James knew and know that “Church”. I want to see with eyes that can penetrate all the way back to the realization of who was the Christ then and who is the Christ now. The Christ that was and is in all things at all times surrounding us with a nearness so close we can feel his breath at every moment and yet a remoteness that makes us weep.
This is why I wander knowing he is so close and yet I find comfort in the knowing as I collapse into the bliss of prayer.