Epiphany Moments
The human need for cosmic connection is one that most, if not all, human beings will experience. Such a desire is a human constant. Modern life has led to reflection upon alienation, the alienation we experience from Space and Time, that is, from Nature and History, that we experience because of the loss of the language of transcendence reflected in the philosophical unwillingness to discuss the Infinite and Eternal that arises because of the dominance of science. Science makes space and time tools for us to manage, and in doing so has improved the human condition. To suppose that we can give rational expression to all things human is to deny the significance of feeling and desire in understanding who we are. The disenchantment of the world that has occurred in modern philosophy and science needs a re-enchantment of the world through all creative, artistic expression, which one could explore in music and art, but is also clearly shown in poetic expression. Poetry reveals that the loss of the language of the transcendence has not meant that we no longer have the desire to connect with that which transcends us. Poetry still expresses that desire for connection with that from which we feel alienated at a universal level. This is beyond our need to connect within or even our connection with other people. It suggests an inter-space that one cannot put into a mathematical formula. This is why the symbol is so important, for meaning and connection occur through the symbol. All creative expressions are symbolic, but poetry is uniquely adept at providing such symbols. Such symbols have a unique power to re-connect, to heal, to inspire. Thus, our lives are part of a picture that exists within a frame much larger than the life we have. We do not see the whole picture, but we long for connection with it. Our lives are more like a word in a sentence that is part of a much larger story being told. In our lifetimes, we will not see the end of the story. Yet, our loss of connection to time, the sense of lost time, often through monotony of everyday life, anxiety over whether our needs will find satisfaction, suffering, guilt over what we have done, and disappointment of unfulfilled dreams, threatens our connection to the meaning and significance of our time. It can lead to the experience of imprisonment and suffocation. Yet, it can be healed. Romantic or sexual desire is also a powerful symbol for connection. We live in a spatial-temporal world, and it is human to not just what it explained, but to connect with it. One needs such expressions to disclose the connection we can re-establish to nature and time. This connection occurs proleptically in a moment that we can aptly call an epiphany, which connects us to that from which we were formally alienated. The experience brings joy, significance, and inspiration. It hints at a higher and deeper reality beyond the everyday experiences of a human life. It seeks to reconcile the alienation between the inner world of the human being the struggles of engaging the external world. On the human side, such experiences can occur through the ways in which we express ourselves in creative works of art: poetry, myth, story, novels, epic fantasy, epic science fiction. Such epiphanies inspire us. It gives a sense that we have received a calling. Such an epiphany repairs the damage caused by modern modes of thought and experience. It does not do so perfectly. It is not another tool, but it can anticipate an eschatological completion of our connection of all things. Science and philosophy can explain how things connect but lack the tools to bring such a connection. Such a moment cannot be reduced to added information, but becomes that which inspires us toward wholeness, meaning, and connection. The inspiration such moments provide are not illusions or fantasies but reveal that this desire for connection with the whole, with nature and time, is what humans bring to the world. Thus, these moments arise from who we are and not from illusion or fantasy. Repairing our connection with the world will have ethical implications. [1]
Among the creative and artistic activities of human beings is religion. As one could explore novels, poetry, and music as expressions of this longing for connection, one could also explore religious texts and expressions to make the same point. In fact, much of what I have said about creative expression in art, music, novels, and poetry could equally well be said of many of the sayings and parables of Jesus.
To use this language, the New Testament proclamation regarding Jesus as the Christ, the coming Son of Man, and Son of God, is designed to bring us to the experience of the risen Lord as the epiphany experience that makes one Christian. To relate this experience to the gospel narrative, the resurrection of Jesus is that epiphany, this revelatory moment, in which the human drive for connection finds its fulfillment. The Christian comes to treasure the risen Lord so much that joy and meaning, that the sense of connection with that which is beyond what human beings can make through their action, is through the risen Lord. Through the risen Lord, one receives a sense of vocation or calling, experiences life as a child of God and as part of the family of God, that the risen Lord is the one who satisfies the deepest longing and desires of the heart, that the risen Lord is the one who brings peace in the midst of the storms of life, and brings the eschatological hope of the healing of all that alienates humanity.
We need to consider what it might mean to have an experience that brings us into a connection with the larger reality that embraces us all. I am not thinking of conversion. I am thinking of an experience that “in some way” deepens our connection with God. Such an experience can give some assurance at a deep and profound level, deeply personal, that one has heard taught is true.
William James famously outlined his understanding of the mystical experience. These experiences have at least four defining characteristics. James referred to them as mystical states of consciousness. Ineffability: these experiences are not precisely in ordinary language but only with the language of metaphor: "It was like . . .” Transiency: the experiences are typically brief; they come and go. One does not live in a permanent state of mystical consciousness. Passivity: they receive them rather than achieve them. Though spiritual practices may help create the conditions for such experiences, they are not under the control of the person. Fourth, these experiences are noetic. People who have them say they involve a knowing, and not just strong feelings such as joy or awe or dread or wonder (though they frequently involve one or more of these as well). Mystics are strongly convinced that they know something they did not know before. What they know is not another bit of knowledge or piece of information, but another reality: they have an experiential awareness of the sacred.
Importantly, such experiences are transformative. They transform a person's way of seeing and being. Mystics see the world differently. Rather than seeing the world as "ordinary," they frequently see it as "suchness," as the playful and wondrous dance of the void. Moreover, mystical experiences also transform a person's way of being, leading to freedom from conventional anxieties and inhibitions and to compassion as a way of relating to the world.
The Christians I know can often think of such experiences. Yet, they do not rely upon them. They know they must live most of Christian life day to day, apart from such high and blissful moments. However, when I read of such experiences, when I reflect upon the few I have had in my life, it reminds me to be alert to every moment. If one can experience God like that, then God is in some sense knowable “right here” and not simply “everywhere.”[2] We need to hold on to time. We need to guard it and watch over it. If we do not give due regard to each moment, it will slip away. In a sense, every moment is sacred. Each moment can have its clarity and meaning. Each moment deserves the weight of our awareness. Each moment has its true and due fulfilment.[3] Overwhelmed with anxiety, we might see a vanity plate on a car that has the word “trust” on it. The ordinary moment can become a revelation. Similar moments occur in worship when we catch some snippet of a phrase, some insight, some vision (which may be extremely difficult or even embarrassing to share with others) and base our lives upon it. Such are the ways of revelation. Such experiences have the intent of genuine transformation.
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[3] -Thomas Mann, from The Magic Mountain, quoted by Joanne Lynn and Joan Harrold in Handbook for Mortals: Guidance for People Facing Serious Illness (New York: Oxford University Press, 1999),
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