Last night I spent an hour in the dark transept of St. Patrick’s Cathedral where I go now & then in my more lonely moods. An old argument with me is that the true religious force in the world is not the church but the world itself: the mysterious callings of Nature & her response. In the cathedral I felt one presence; on the highway I felt another. The priest in me worshipped one God; the poet another God. The priest worshipped Mercy & Love; the poet, Beauty & Might. As I sat dreaming with humanity, I felt how the glittering altar worked on my senses stimulating & consoling; I went tramping through the fields & beheld every leaf & blade of grass revealing or betokening the Invisible……Wallace Stevens
it’s the awesomeness, the daunting past & the intricate human language of connection that calls us to bow our heads to cross & mountain….we find healing in the flickering candles, the tiny leaf, & the truth of the senses…
and yet, we can’t always reconcile our place…can’t allow love’s mysteries….we separate our God from each other…..remove our hearts from experience….disengage soul from faith….
Don’t you ever,
You up in the sky,
Don’t you ever get tired
Of having clouds between you & us?
let hope work its tiny miracles….
Music is being played to the cows in the milking barn. Rules have been made & confirmed: only sacred music is to be played to the cows, not ‘classical’ music. The music is to make the cows give more milk. The sacred music is to keep the brothers who work in the cow barn recollected. For sometime now sacred music has been played to the cows in the milking barn. They have not given more milk. The brothers have not been any more recollected than usual. I believe the cows will soon be hearing Beethoven. Then we shall have classical, perhaps worldly milk & the monastery will prosper. (Later: It was true. The hills resounded with Beethoven. The monastery has prospered. The brother mainly concerned with the music, however, has departed.)
How do we convince ourselves of the illusion when it seems so real to us? We must step outside and look within…
That’s clearly the intellectual answer, yet it continually eludes the heart…deepening our mindfulness & prayer is our hope….& poetry which bypasses the mind:)…thanks g.f.s….
I agree, as much as I think about it, nothing changes until the heart compels it … Thank you …
The music of hope plays in great cathedrals and in milking stalls alike.
Beautiful visual…..remembering the beauty of humility…thanks Granbee…
Priests and poets alike, if they give any thought to the vast Mystery of life, understand that worship happens anywhere and everywhere, dependent entirely on the heart’s condition.
Open hearts simply love….thanks for reminding us Mark….