The mystics have this in common: they try to move us beyond words, and then beyond images into the great stillness—the cloud of unknowing. They do this because of a foundational understanding that God is beyond words and beyond images. It was the great insight of the ancient Jewish people that to create an image of God is idolatry. Of course, words are themselves symbols and when we substitute the symbol for the thing symbolized we have mistaken the use of language. The word “tree” is not the tree itself. The word “lake” is not the lake itself. Words are shorthand symbols for a greater reality. We regularly drive by Cayuga Lake. For those unfamiliar with where we live, Ithaca NY is at the southern end of a beautiful 40+ mile stretch of water. How can all that you see out there be captured in the word “lake”? The word has meaning for us only when we have truly experienced what it is like to be here, to see, to feel, to hear, to smell, to experience, to put you toes in the water, to kayak the lake. The word "lake" points us beyond words to the reality itself.
Today is Trinity Sunday when the church worships God for the wonderful revelation of Trinity in Unity, the One and the Many, the Three and the One. If the idea of Trinity teaches us anything it is that God is beyond words and beyond images. That three are one makes no linguistic sense. (Or should we say that three is one: we do not even have correct grammar for the idea). When well-meaning theologians have tried to popularize the idea of Trinity—St. Patrick’s three-leaf clover, for example, or water, ice and vapor—they distort the idea. By making it accessible they lose the mystery. They turn reality into error. When great artists represent Trinity, the image is invariably of the Three and we lose the One. The idea of the Holy Trinity is to confuse us, to make our brains ache, to have us throw our hands up in exasperation and say, “I can't understand it!” Our dear friends the Unitarians have missed the point. “The Trinity makes no sense,” they say, “so let’s lose the idea of Trinity.” Yet, that is the point. The Trinity makes no sense; the Trinity is, in fact, nonsense. Trinity is mystery. God is mystery. God is beyond words to formulate, God is beyond images to depict. If you can make sense of God, then you have reduced God to your understanding. The ancients insisted that “God is that than which nothing greater can be imagined.” If you can imagine God, then you have failed in your task. You have something less than God. God is beyond your ability to imagine. God is beyond your ability to describe in words.
Forget God for a moment. Let’s talk about a lime. We had delightful Mexican food last night where there was much evidence of limes, to which I am very partial! If you had never seen, touched, smelled or tasted a lime but wanted to know about limes, I could create an image of a lime to show you. Yet, it is not the lime itself. It may help. But it is like a finger pointing to the moon. If you remain with the finger pointing, you will miss the moon. If you say the image is the lime, you have missed it. You might be able to recognize a lime is you came across real one. But you have not experienced one.We could find a philosopher of all things citrus—erudite in the extreme, a true wordsmith—to help us. She describes the texture of the skin, the feel of a newly ripe lime. It is like a lemon, similar in shape but not quite, a little harder usually, the smell is tangy, but not as sharp, a somehow softer smell. Bite into the lime and it is tart, more so than the lemon, but not as much as vinegar. You will never mistake a lime for a lemon . . . and on it goes. A PhD in describing limes! All very good in its own way, but until you experience the lime for yourself, you have missed it.
Back to thoughts about God. If we cannot through words and images do justice to a simple fruit, how could we expect to do justice to the Ultimate Reality of the universe? I do not want to belittle religious art, iconography, theology or philosophy. I think they are all very important, and I am happy (and privileged) to give my life to reading, thinking, writing and teaching. But at best, it is all a signpost—it points the way. Religion or philosophy are not the truth. Both point in the direction of truth (at their best) and are a hindrance to truth (at their worst, and sadly we see so much of the worse).
So, we cannot remain with the words, with the image. We must move beyond to the experience of God directly. And in the words of the old Gloria Estefan song. “I’m trying to say I love you, but the words get in the way!”
It is for these and other reasons that I have tried to build the practice of silence and awareness: exercises that do not feature words or images, but sensations, awareness of breathing and bodies. Christ in you. Without concepts.
I write this on a beautiful Sunday morning, sitting on our deck in the sunshine. There is a deep silence in creation. It is not an auditory silence. It is very noisy! It is like a thousand birds all singing at the same time. Flies buzzing. The wind in the trees. A million leaves crashing into each other. A woodpecker banging the tree trunk. A chipmunk chirping not a yard from my foot. Yet, in it all is a deep silence. Awareness brings us to that. Beyond words, beyond images we find God.
+Ab. Andy