Tuesday, August 24, 2004

Moments of Clarity

Moments of clarity. I have had a few times in my life when I have experienced a moment or two of true clarity. Not just where my mind is clear and feels uninhibited. But clarity of life, in the sense that I can glimpse in the world and in life some overarching understanding. There's a pattern of truth sewn into the fabric of life, which, if discernible, reveals the total essence of all the goodness of God in life. There is a wonderful purpose in it all, that in those few moments, very few and very far between, is crystal clear, perfectly understood by some corner of the heart and fully excepted by another corner of the mind. And then it's gone. It's like turning on the lights switch and then there's that time that builds up for your eyes to adjust and suddenly, you can see everything perfectly and you can recognize the position of every object in the room, but at that very moment, the light is again flipped off, and you're in total darkness, with only a vestige of clarification left to guide you. Because, unless you have a perfectly photographic memory, there isn't much you remember about the room in terms of specifics. All you know is that there was an order to it. The little tacks on the floor next to the bed would have explained the pain in your foot that you didn't understand before, but you didn't see them closely enough to fully comprehend what happened. You only got a glimpse, so that you knew in one moment, that there was reason behind everything that had happened to you before you could see.
To me it seems that we only live life in the darkness. For some reason, though we can turn on the light, it seems that we are only allowed to do so in order to get our bearings, and then we must turn it off again, if we wish to continue on our way. I do not know how to leave that light of understanding and clarity on as I go about the days.
"Do not forget in darkness that which you knew when you were in the light."
For some reason, that is a difficult thing. Hard enough when you take it literally, but when you follow the metaphor to life, it becomes more confusing. But there is good wisdom in it. The Silver Chair is about deception and a slavery to the darkness. People must delve into the darkness and trust in what they have known all their lives. They must remember the sun and believe that it exists, though they are far underground, and they cannot see the dawn. Otherwise, the terrors that await in the darkness will steal from them those things in life that are good and true, and they will bind them to a life of slavery, never again to taste the sweetness of ripe berries or see the beauty of the painted sky or feel the rushing power of the great wind. In their slavery, they would accept all that is foul as fair, and all that is low must be accepted as high. All that is evil would be the best. We too, must remember that there is a glory, the wonders that we have glimpsed and held on to for dear life. We must remember the greatness of life, the eternal life that is good and pleasing and holy and alive! Hold unswervingly to the hope we profess. And perhaps, if we persevere, we will see all things, clearly, wonderfully, for eternity.