Father Richard Rohr reflects on the painful consequences of feeling disconnected from God, self, one another, and the earth. Understanding the Trinity as the source of reality’s interconnectedness leads to healing:
I’m convinced that beneath the ugly manifestations of our present evils—political corruption, ecological devastation, warring against one another, hating each other based on race, gender, sexual orientation, religion, or nationality—the greatest dis-ease facing us right now is our profound and painful sense of disconnection. We feel disconnected from God certainly, but also from ourselves (especially our bodies), from each other, and from our world. Our sense of this fourfold isolation is plunging humanity into increasingly destructive behavior and much mental distress.
Yet many are discovering that the Infinite Flow of the Trinity—and our practical, felt experience of this gift—offers the utterly grounded reconnection with God, with self, with others, and with our world that all spirituality, and arguably, even politics, aim for, but which conventional religion and politics fail to access.
Trinity overcomes the foundational philosophical problem of “the one and the many.” Serious seekers invariably wonder how things can be both deeply connected and yet clearly distinct. In the paradigm of Trinity, we have three autonomous “Persons,” as we call them, who are nevertheless in perfect communion, given and surrendered to each other with Infinite Love. With the endless diversity in creation, it’s clear that God is not at all committed to uniformity but instead desires unity—which is the great work of the Spirit—or diversity united by love. Uniformity is mere conformity and obedience to law and custom; whereas spiritual unity is that very diversity embraced and protected by an infinitely generous love. This is the problem that our politics and any superficial religion are still unable to resolve.
Trinity is all about relationship and connection. We know the Trinity through experiencing the Flow itself. The principle of one is lonely; the principle of two is oppositional and moves us toward preference and exclusion; the principle of three is inherently moving, dynamic, and generative. Trinity was made to order to undercut all dualistic thinking. Yet for all practical purposes, Christianity shelved it because our dualistic theologies could not process it.
God is not a being among other beings, but rather the Ground of Being itselfwhich then flows through all beings. As Paul says to the intellectuals in Athens, this God “is not far from us, but is the one in whom we live and move and have our being” (Acts 17:27–28). The God whom Jesus reveals is presented as unhindered dialogue, a positive and inclusive flow, and a waterwheel of outpouring love that never stops! St. Bonaventure called God a “fountain fullness” of love. [1]
Nothing can stop the flow of divine love; we cannot undo the eternal pattern even by our worst sin. God is always winning, and God’s love will finally win in the end. Nothing humans can do will stop the relentless outpouring force that is the divine dance. Love does not lose, nor does God lose. That’s what it means to be God!
The Pain of Separateness
In this homily, Father Richard describes the pain we cause ourselves when we choose to live from a sense of separateness:
We go through our lives, our years on this Earth, thinking of ourselves as separate. That sense of separateness basically causes every stupid, sinful, silly thing we ever do. The little, separate self takes offense when people don’t show us proper respect. The separate self lies, steals, and does unkind things to other people. When we’re separate, everything becomes about protecting and defending ourselves. It can consume our lives.
One word for overcoming that false sense of separateness, that illusory self, is heaven; quite frankly, that is what death offers us. It is simply returning to the Source from which we came, where all things are one. The whole gospel message is radical union with God, with neighbor, and even with ourselves. I think that’s why so many people are drawn to church each week—to receive communion and eventually, hopefully, realize that we are in communion.
Probably no gospel story says this more clearly and forthrightly than the parable of the vine and the branches (John 15:1–10). Jesus says, “I am the vine, God is the vine grower, and you are the branches.” As long as we remain in that relationship, we are in love and in union. Whenever we do anything unloving, at that moment, we’re out of union. Even if it’s just a negative, angry, or judgmental thought, we’re doing that out of a sense of disunion—always! And Jesus is very clear. He says that state is useless. Once the branch is cut off from the vine, we might as well throw it into the fire because it will not bear any fruit. He’s not making a threat; he’s just talking practically as if he were the vineyard owner.
That’s a pretty strong statement about us and the choices we make from that unnecessary state of separateness. We have never been separate from God except in our thoughts, but our thoughts don’t make it true! Nor are we separate from anyone else. Whatever separates us from one another—nationality, religion, ethnicity, economics, language—are all just accidentals that will all pass away. We are one in God, with Christ, and with one another. “I am the vine and you are the branches” (John 15:5). If only we could live that way every hour!
We all pull back into ourselves. We pout and complain and resent and fear. That’s what the little self does. The little self, the branch cut off from the vine, can do nothing according to this gospel. So Jesus says, “Remain in me as I remain in you” (John 15:4). The promise is constant from God’s side. The only question is from our side. Do we choose to live in that union? Every time we do something with respect, with love, with sympathy, with compassion, with caring, with service, we are operating in union.
| Learning from the Mystics: John of the Cross |
| Quote of the Week: “Some spiritual fathers are likely to be a hindrance and harm rather than a help to these souls that journey on this road. Such directors have neither understanding nor experience of these ways. They are like the builders of the tower of Babel. When these builders were supposed to provide the proper materials for the project, they brought entirely different supplies because they failed to understand the language. And thus nothing was accomplished. Hence, it is arduous and difficult for a soul in these periods of the spiritual life when it can’t understand itself or find anyone else who understands it.” – Prologue of The Ascent of Mount Carmel Reflection: The Dark Night of the Soul, the experience of having all of one’s idols and certainties stripped away is incredibly difficult. It is not an experience that people search for, but it often happens to people. Here, St. John of the Cross offers some profound wisdom… Just because someone is a religious leader, that does not mean that they will know what you are going through or how to speak to it. They may give you a look as if you are speaking a completely different language from them. And so, the admonition here is to be incredibly careful who you speak to about your own Dark Night of the Soul. Your vulnerability may not be treated with care, and you may be subject to “advice” that shames you for going through a long season of doubt, silence from God, loss of the “sweetness” of faith experiences, etc. That being said, there are spiritual directors and other sages that can speak to these things. These wonderful people may not be in the pulpit but instead found in the pages of figures similar to St. John of the Cross, sitting quietly in the pew near you, or a small group at a retreat center. Be careful who you talk to about your Dark Night of the Soul, not everyone will understand. Treasure your experience like a pearl, and share it with people that will receive it as such. Prayer Dear Lord, help us to find your saints. Grant us the grace to find people that can not only speak to but empathize with our own Dark Night of the Soul. We recognize that to follow you deeply might be a lonely and exilic experience, yet we trust that you are leading us into deeper waters for the sake of greater love and union with you. Grant us courage during the Dark Night of the Soul. In the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Amen and amen. |
| Life Overview of St. John of the Cross: Who Were They: Juan de Yepes y Alvarez, later known as Juan de la Cruz (John of the Cross) Where: Born in Fontiveros, Spain. Died in Ubeda, Spain. When: June 24, 1542-December 14, 1591 Why He is Important: Understood as a prime example of scholasticism and spirituality. What Was Their Main Contribution: John of the Cross is most known for his commentary on his own poetry, of which the Dark Night of the Soul is one of a few main texts. He was jailed and beaten by his religious superiors and escaped to only then write some of his most enduring work. Click here for The Collected Works of St. John of the Cross. |
