Imagine, if you can, that you have been blind since birth. All your other senses work well, you can smell if the bacon is burning, you can recognise people by their voices, you can reach out and touch things, people – you can know a person by feeling their face. You map out the interior of your home by sound, by temperature, by knowing the surfaces. You navigate outside in the same way, knowing familiar places by their sound or smell. All your senses combine to give you a model in your brain of the world, and using this model you live a complete, non-visual life.
But how will you know if your son is waving to you from a window? How will you know the look of love in your lover's eyes? How will you understand the dazzling beauty of a glorious Summer day? We who have sight take these things for granted, but try to imagine how difficult it must be for a blind person to understand how we know that eight miles above us a plane is silently streaking across the blue sky. But the blind person is unaware of the limit of their perception because they have never known what it is like to not have that limit.
We are all like that blind man. We can look back in time but we can't look ahead. In order to communicate we have to frame our thoughts in words, so that the listener can reconstruct our thought from the spoken words. We can only be in one place, we can only look in one direction at a time. We don’t have a sense for our connectedness with each other and the universe. Our capacity for accepting and giving love is attenuated. But all this is normal to us; we are unaware of our limitations because that is all we have ever known.
Imagine, if you can, how it must be for someone who has known life beyond these boundaries. Well, some people have. It is estimated that about 15 million people in the USA alone have had an NDE, a Near-Death Experience. They tell of a sense of love a million times stronger than any love they have known, they can communicate without words, they have all-round vision, they can be in many places at the same time. But above all they know that they are not separate individuals, but are an integral part of the universe, connected and interconnected with every living being, with every star and every atom. For them it is as though they have lived all their lives in darkness and now someone has turned on the light. St Paul had a similar experience on the road to Damascus; he wrote from personal knowledge about how it will be for us at the end of this earthly life:
“For now we see through a glass, darkly; but then face to face: now I know in part; but then shall I know even as also I am known.”
So this is the first lesson: “We are not human beings on a spiritual journey. We are spiritual beings on a human journey”. (Pierre Teilhard de Chardin).
But it doesn't stop there.
Their brief taste of real love, as a tangible fabric of light that is the substance of all existence, changes their lives forever. They dedicate the rest of their lives to helping other people, in medical care, education, counselling, or any of the caring professions. They are more tolerant, less competitive, less interested in material possessions, more into friendships and Nature. They are full of enthusiasm for life, determined to make the most of each day. They all agree that love is the only thing that matters, the only thing you really can take with you when you go. This is the second lesson.
What sort of world would we have if we all had an NDE? Perhaps a world without violence and war, without addiction or homelessness, without racial conflict, without a compulsion to own more and more things while other people have less and less. It might be a place where everyone would feel valued and wanted. We could have a planet that we cherished and cared for.
NDEs will always be the exception not the rule. Only one in seven who come close to death have an NDE. But the rest of us can learn from them. As Albert Einstein said:
“A human being is a part of the whole called by us universe, a part limited in time and space. He experiences himself, his thoughts and feeling as something separated from the rest, a kind of optical delusion of his consciousness. This delusion is a kind of prison for us, restricting us to our personal desires and to affection for a few persons nearest to us. Our task must be to free ourselves from this prison by widening our circle of compassion to embrace all living creatures and the whole of nature in its beauty.” (Albert Einstein)
Does Love exist? No-one is quite sure. Astronomers have now detected background radiation from the farthest edges of the universe and yet there is no sign so far of Planet Love. Venus was a big disappointment, just a lot of hot air, a celestial body maybe but not one to cuddle up to. “Love all” says the tennis umpire; all that means is nothing's happening.
“All you need is love” sang The Beatles, but try telling that to the rent man. It doesn't seem to make you happy when you have it – witness all those sad blues songs. Love is not dependable; it's always the ones you love who let you down. “Only love can break your heart” sang Neil Young. Love is illogical – you try all you can to keep it for yourself and it disappears, and yet when you give it away it comes straight back to you. Love is messy – just messy. Need I say more?
What does it mean anyway? For a cat it's a matter of stroking of fur; for a dog, throwing a ball. It can mean doing what your Dad tells you or remembering when it's your Mum's birthday. For those in their twenties it just means sex; for those in their thirties it's arguing; for those in their sixties it's company.
All in all it's simply too much effort. Wouldn't it be much better if we forgot all about it? We could have nice, predictable lives doing what we wanted for ourselves, without having to even think about anyone else.
Nice boring predictable pointless lives.
All right then I was only kidding. You can't throw love away, it makes the world go round, it makes you sing, it's “the little thickness of the coin” (E.E. Cummings), it's the fifth element, it's the seventh wave (Sting), it's all around (The Troggs), love is the answer, love is the flower you've got to let grow (John Lennon). Life without love is like a tree without fruit (Khalil Gibran), or like a song with no tune.
“Love is patient,love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It does not dishonour others, it is not self-seeking,it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.” 1 Corinthians 13.
According to the ancients, it is love that holds the stars together.
February 14th is approaching. If you have found love, be thankful; and if you haven't, watch out! St Valentine is coming to get you!
One of the things I
would love to see, but probably never will, is the midnight sun. If I
were to travel North to somewhere like Tromsø in Norway around the
middle of June, I could stand on the elegant bridge across the
Tromsøysundet Strait and watch the sun set over the water, then
around midnight it would hover briefly just above the horizon before
ascending once again to start the new day.
Of course what goes
up must come down, and every year around Christmas time, the sun
never quite manages to rise as far as the horizon. The sky begins to
lighten around midday but then darkens once more and falls back into
night. In Tromsø it requires a special kind of courage and endurance
to keep your spirits as Winter approaches. The days get shorter,
darker and colder and then disappear altogether into perpetual night.
You need to stay strong to survive, but each year some inhabitants
find they no longer have that strength; that is why there is a tall
fence along the Tromsø bridge.
That is also why all
over the world above the Tropic of Cancer, around the middle of
December, there are festivals of light: Christmas, Saturnalia, St
Nicholas Day, Saint Lucia, Hanukkah, Yule. We need the reassurance of
good company, laughter, food, bright colours and light. Some
authorities call it a superstitious attempt to rekindle the sun, but
that is just a metaphor. We are really keeping the light alive in us.
Spare a thought for
those who are alone this Christmas, those whose light has been taken
away, whose loved one has died, those who find no joy in the tinsel
and glitter. For some, Christmas simply adds insult to injury.
For the twelve days
of Christmas the year holds its breath, the days refuse to lengthen,
but gradually at first, then faster and faster as we move towards
Spring, the light returns. For us too, in our lives, like a miracle
out of nowhere, after sorrow, we find peace. May the spirit of peace
bring light into your life this Christmas.
In 1966 the Beach
Boys released the groundbreaking album “Smile”, including two
classic hit songs Good Vibrations and Heroes and Villains. The
multi-part harmonies were a technological wonder, being recorded at
different times and different studios then cut together afterwards.
As so often happens,
the music is so powerful it overwhelms the lyrics, which seem almost
redundant. So it was a discovery for me to read them for the first
time today. According to Vandyke Parks who co-wrote the song with
Brian Wilson, it was about “the Indian thing - we were trying to
exculpate our guilt, to atone for what we had done to the aborigines
of our own place. There’s a lot of things about belief in Smile,
and its very question of belief is what was plaguing Brian at that
time”.
Here's a sample of
the words:
Fell in love years
ago
With an innocent girl
From the Spanish and Indian home
Home
of the heroes and villains
Once at night Catillian squared the
fight
And she was right in the rain of the bullets that eventually
brought her down
But she's still dancing in the night
Unafraid
of what a dude'll do in a town full of heroes and villains
But the US makes
movies like Dances With Wolves, feels guilty, and carries on
regardless. As I write this, the Sioux nation are blockading access
to lands guaranteed to them under treaty, in an attempt to stop an
oil pipeline from being driven through. As the old hymn goes “And
the choice goes by forever, 'twixt that darkness and that light”.
Each age throws up a new set of villains and a new breed of heroes to
oppose them.
Protesters, including members of the Standing Rock Sioux tribe, march to a construction site for the Dakota Access Pipeline, near Cannon Ball, North Dakota, on Sept. 3 Robyn Beck/Getty Images
It sometimes seems as
if it is coming to a showdown. The world is facing critical
challenges, climate change, record numbers of mouths to feed, war and
mass displacement of people, an increasing divide between rich and
poor, all these need urgent attention. On all these fronts the heroes
are in action, developing renewable resources, feeding the hungry,
tending the wounded and distributing aid. And yet governments around
the world seem gripped by some insanity, determined to do everything
in their power to make matters worse.
The recent bombing of
Aleppo in which eleven Red Cross workers were killed is a perfect
example. Those responsible – the U. S. and Russia – have no
regard for death and destruction so long as it is not on their own
soil. They have little regard even for their own citizens. In Britain
our government has made war against the poor and the sick,
withdrawing funds from organisations trying to help. The villains are
getting cocky.
In The Lord Of The
Rings, the ring of power bore this inscription:
“One Ring to rule
them all, One Ring to find them,
One Ring to bring them all and in
the darkness bind them”.
In our own lives we
are seeing Tolkein's words fulfilled.
Faced with the
immense power of darkness in the world, the heroes are facing a
dilemma: whether to give up the struggle and admit defeat, whether to
fight violence with violence, or whether to embody a better way to
be, and hold out against all the odds.
This is the same
choice that faced Luke Skywalker in Star Wars. The Emperor taunts
him:
“Good, I can feel
your anger. I am defenceless. Take your weapon. Strike me down with
all of your hatred and your journey towards the dark side will be
complete! “
What a temptation
that is! But giving way to that anger would mean becoming a part of
the cycle of violence, joining the villains. We can't let that
happen. Luke does not give up. He replies:
“Never. I'll never
turn to the Dark Side. You've failed, your highness. I am a Jedi,
like my father before me. “
We are the heroes, we are the lightbearers. Though we may be few we are powerful. As the writer of John's gospel says: “The light shines on in the darkness. The darkness has not enveloped it.”
At the bottom of the back garden of the house where I grew up there stood a tree. Not a very big tree, about 25 feet or so, but I and my brother could climb up and sit on a platform, which was a bit of wood we had found and fixed between two branches. From there we could see up the garden through the apple trees to the kitchen window, or the other way over the fence and into the park as far as the wood. Looking sideways we had a view over the neighbours' fences and into their gardens as they stretched along the road.
There was a knack to getting up there. First we had to get one foot in an easy foothold a few feet off the ground, and then stretch up and grab the one branch that was small enough for our small hands to grasp and pull ourselves up into the air high enough to reach out for the next branch across. Then we could scramble up to the platform, holding tight in case we fell down.
The day came that I had grown that little bit too much. I reached for the branch and pulled but it suddenly snapped, sending me sliding and crashing down the trunk to the ground.
This sounds ridiculous compared with the giant redwood tree that Julia Butterfly Hill climbed in 1997. That tree, which she named Luna, stood not twenty but two hundred feet tall, and Julia stayed high in a shelter in its branches not for half an hour, but for 738 days, through rain and storms, tossed this way and that.
The wood where I played
My tree was an alder, not a redwood. Alders are supposed to grow by streams, and I always wondered how this one came to be in my garden, until one day my father was digging and found the remains of a well next to the tree. That made sense - there was a stream running through the wood where I used to play, and that stream must have run under my garden.
The stream and the wood and the garden are still there to this day, and that makes me happy. I have moved to the West Country, my brother now lives 150 miles away and my mother and father now tend a garden in Paradise. I think we all outgrow our tree in the end, but nonetheless a part of me is still a small boy, perched breathless and excited in a tree 60 feet away from home.
