The old words “there is a time and place for everything” come as I write the above words. Who determines that time and place and whether it is good, wise, acceptable and life giving?
“Holy Mystery” is a place that my soul seeks for rest, for learning, for embrace, to come more deeply into relationship with the Almighty. One writer speaks of peoples reaction to one of Jesus healing miracles, life back from death stories: “They all realized they were in a place of holy mystery, that God was at work among them. They were quietly worshipful…” Luke 7:16 The Message
This experience of Holy Mystery was in community, or rather in a group place which isn’t necessarily community.
Holy Mystery is an experience that, for me personally, comes more often in solitude, in the cathedral God first gave us - Creation. Where the awe and intricacy of creation, the majesty of nature and the humbling knowledge that this goes so far beyond what one can see, touch, taste, hear, smell, experience from where I stand.. Being surrounded by love yet unable to express how deep and authentic it feels in this place deepens how mysterious living really is.
Good Friday is the day of mourning for Christians, when Jesus was crucified and the world went dark. Many gather in community to sit together with this truth and remember this part of Jesus journey.
I have not been able to understand why, for me, these events are much more deeply meaningful when I remain in solitude. A friend was sharing how they struggled with guilt at choosing solitude on Easter morning instead of community. Solitude presented the gift of experiencing Holy Mystery - Holy Presence that is unexplainable yet continues to call out to the soul for endless pursuit.
|On Good Friday my husband went off to the mid-day service at church and I remained at home. The day was sunny with a gentle wind and the spring air was inviting. I ventured out, rake in hand, to clear up old leaves around the labyrinth and on the path that meanders through our property. Soon this quiet slow task became a holy task, caring for this sacred ground we call home, where others can come for a contemplative meditative walk - our labyrinth. The old leaves are colourless and heavy yet when they are gathered up and heaped in the compost pile fresh new life, tender colours of new growth are waiting within the ground to be revealed and breathe again. Death is heavy and colourless - life is full of colour and absolutely longs to breathe and be visible again! In this solitudinal task, removing death to find life, my tears began to come for reasons I cannot explain, except that I held my face to the Light, up to the gentle wind, to acknowledge Holy Presence and to listen for the gentle teaching of the Spirit as I worked. The deep wind chimes gave out their throaty melody and all nature seemed to be gently sighing in its own way at the acknowledgement of spring after winter, life out of death, and Light that comes through the darkness. It was a place of holy mystery, the Almighty was present and at work and I felt my whole being come alive with quiet worship.
God is present in our community spaces and God is present in our solitude space and each hold space for the Holy Mystery, Holy Presence to be explored and for us to pursue what this looks like in our lives. Life out of death, spring out of winter, light out of darkness, melodies out of wailing, Holy Presence in the midst of its mystery.