I used to really dislike this saying. For me “keeping your powder dry” was a way of NOT depending on God. Nowadays I rather like it, because using one’s brain and giving it our best shot is a way of depending on God. Actually, in reference to yesterday's post, I do know some ways of recovering a sense of love when I’ve lost the ability to feel it. Still, these take time, radical truthfulness and intense vulnerability. And so the “inner wall” is really a symptom that I’ve been letting things slide on that front.
So yes, I will sit down and write down all the messy truth. And, each time, I will remember a poem by Rilke that pretty much changed my life:
God speaks to each of us as he makes us,
then walks with us silently out of the night.
These are the words we dimly hear:
You, sent out beyond your recall,
go to the limits of your longing.
Embody me.
Flare up like flame
and make big shadows I can move in.
Let everything happen to you: beauty and terror.
Just keep going. No feeling is final.
Don't let yourself lose me.
Nearby is the country they call life.
You will know it by its seriousness.
Give me your hand.
“Gott spricht zu jedem nur” by Rainer Maria Rilke, translated by Anita Barrows and Joanna Macy. (Sorry for being a snob here, but Rilke's poetry is a million times better in German. The translation isn't very good and that's because it's nearly impossible to render his thoughts in translation. German is a stupendously expressive, nuanced and creative language, English doesn't have words for the notions Rilke uses).
I’m still fascinated by the topic of lack of authenticity in religion. Not long ago, Naked Pastor wrote the following: “For the vast majority of those connected with church in any way, it is one of the most inhumane and soul-murderous thing in their lives”. It is a beautiful post, I loved it.
So yes, I will sit down and write down all the messy truth. And, each time, I will remember a poem by Rilke that pretty much changed my life:
God speaks to each of us as he makes us,
then walks with us silently out of the night.
These are the words we dimly hear:
You, sent out beyond your recall,
go to the limits of your longing.
Embody me.
Flare up like flame
and make big shadows I can move in.
Let everything happen to you: beauty and terror.
Just keep going. No feeling is final.
Don't let yourself lose me.
Nearby is the country they call life.
You will know it by its seriousness.
Give me your hand.
“Gott spricht zu jedem nur” by Rainer Maria Rilke, translated by Anita Barrows and Joanna Macy. (Sorry for being a snob here, but Rilke's poetry is a million times better in German. The translation isn't very good and that's because it's nearly impossible to render his thoughts in translation. German is a stupendously expressive, nuanced and creative language, English doesn't have words for the notions Rilke uses).
I’m still fascinated by the topic of lack of authenticity in religion. Not long ago, Naked Pastor wrote the following: “For the vast majority of those connected with church in any way, it is one of the most inhumane and soul-murderous thing in their lives”. It is a beautiful post, I loved it.
No comments:
Post a Comment