In connection with the foregoing post, I wrote the following two months ago, and while not having used it in a ‘stand-alone’ form at the time, I include it here as part of my rather lengthy unravelling of the overlapping stages of a disquieting theme.
In coming closer to others as our paths converge, I have realized that two travellers (Wisdom and Hope), both of whom are known to me, have come close enough for us to acknowledge each other. I begin to think they may have been beside me for the last twenty years of my journey, even when I thought I was completely alone. Alone, that is, apart from a constant Presence whose existence I can never deny. Perhaps our meeting will lead to a revived fellowship: a meeting of two or three in His name, which will bring His presence to life in more powerful ways for each of us; the beginnings of a gathering which, though answering longings of my own, would come about for as yet unknown and greater reasons.
My longing may have been my experience of an ongoing call to take my place as part of something new about to be done. My waiting too, may have been part of something greater; it may have been shared by others for whom, like me, nothing seemed to be happening; or even, as I have recently learnt through this renewed contact with friends, shared in by those for whom doors have failed to open, or have closed in front of them. Perhaps many small fires have been lit, but have been deliberately maintained as no more than a slowly spreading glow; in place, though not recognized as being so, and ready and waiting for the right time: God’s time. Perhaps that time is close, and we are being called to move closer to one another. In doing so we may disturb the air around us just enough to fan our waiting embers into flames. “Where two or three...” again. Our waiting has ensured that the kindling within us is bone dry, and what happens next can go only one way.
I cannot separate these thoughts from my awareness of where we are in the Church year. Could our lead up to Pentecost have any bearing on this? All we can do, and must do, is follow our leading, and wait; come together – at the very least, not remain out of touch with each other – and wait for the right time. We will know it when it comes.
Do I really need anything other than Jesus?
In reality, no; but in my continuing frailty and uncertainty - yes. I need His presence in others as company on my journey. I have need of them. We have need of each other. The truth underlying such feelings is that, in my weakness, my need for Him is not always, nor in all ways, satisfied by my knowledge of His unseen presence within me, and at my side. There are times when I need my awareness of Him to be heightened by His presence in other people with whom I can share that awareness.
We are called to allow ourselves to become vulnerable in His presence, and I have recently been brought within earshot of His call to vulnerability in the presence of those who have played a part in leading me to Him. I still fear making any approach; even after being blessed by the potential invitation contained in those three words: "We miss you." The amount of time passed since they were spoken is witness to that fact, but, despite all my foregoing thoughts, until I change something, the situation (for me at least) will probably stay the same. If I am missed by those with whom I long to have more contact, what can possibly hold me back? One thing only; that multi-faceted enemy of so much that is good: my own fear.
‘We can help one another to find out the meaning of life, no doubt. But in the last analysis the individual person is responsible for living his own life and for “finding himself”. If he persists in shifting this responsibility to somebody else, he fails to find out the meaning of his own existence. You cannot tell me who I am, and I cannot tell you who you are. If you do not know your own identity, who is going to identify you? Others can give you a name or a number, but they can never tell you who you really are. That is something you yourself can only discover from within. ... Although in the end we alone are capable of experiencing who we are, we are instinctively gifted in watching how others experience themselves. ... we are too prone to welcome everybody else’s wrong solution to the problems of life. There is a natural laziness that moves us to accept the easiest solutions – the ones that have common currency among our friends.’ (Thomas Merton. No Man Is An Island.)
