Splendor in the Ordinary

A dolmen, an ancient Celtic portal tomb in County Clare   

©A. Rutherford

Celtic people believed there were "thin places" on earth where the veil between this world and the "other world" was like a membrane.  At these places, the spiritual world was very near and you could sense the presence of that world beyond this world.  

The ancient people used to hallow such places.  Groves of trees, grottoes in the mountain side, the mountains themselves were set aside from ordinary life and consecrated to the spiritual, the sacred.  At these places they would build shrines, create holy wells,  and set up temples to honor the gods they believed would then come to commune with them there.  They had a strong sense of place, and of sites which they believed were holy ground. 

Thus the Celts and others acknowledged that they were surrounded by mystery, and they honored it and bowed before it.  They knew they lived their ordinary lives in the presence of the divine.  They developed rites and rituals out of the stuff of their daily lives to honor this mystery. I look around at the way we live our lives today and I wonder where the wonder went . . .

How do I get back my strong sense of living amongst the mysteries of life?

In Anam Cara, John O'Donohue explains, "It is one of the tragedies of modern culture that we have lost touch with these primal thresholds of nature.  The urbanization of modern life has succeeded in exiling us from this fecund kinship with our mother earth.  Fashioned from the earth, we are souls in clay form.  We need to remain in rhythm with our inner clay voice and longing.  Yet this voice is no longer audible in the modern world.  We are not even aware of our loss, consequently, the pain of our spiritual exile is more intense in being largely unintelligible."

In my wanderings in Ireland I have often felt as though I had come upon one of these thin places, a place where the real Presence was so strong it seemed that if I turned around I would see a burning bush, and my heart was filled with a sense of awe.  The deep awareness of the Sublime was overwhelming and humbling, and my immediate impulse was to say a prayer and worship.  The Irish landscape seems to have an abundance of such places.  But I am trying to remember how often I have come upon one here.  Maybe they've mostly been paved over  *smile*

Perhaps those of us in those countries where modern culture is overwhelming have to pretend . . . hmmm what do I mean by that?  Let's see . . . maybe we have to live our lives as though or as if . . . maybe the thin places for us have to be inside ourselves . . . at least until we can order our lives in such a way that we can largely live our lives apart from modern culture . . . at least those of us who are drawn to doing so . . . who long for something more, something deeper, something really real.

I've gathered a few things out of my commonplace book to help me think about developing more of a sense of splendor in the ordinary:

“There is an indefinable, mysterious power that pervades everything. I feel it, though I do not see it. It is this unseen power that makes itself felt and yet defies all proof, because it is so unlike all that I perceive through my senses. It transcends the senses”

-Mahatma Ghandi 

The ordinary acts we practice every day at home are of more importance to the soul than their simplicity might suggest.

                 -Thomas Moore, Irish poet (1779 - 1852)

“Let the Beauty you love be what you do.”   -Rumi

If day and night are such

that you greet them with joy

And life emits a fragrance

like flowers

And sweet scented herbs—

That is your success.

All Nature is your congratulations.

              - Thoreau

An old hymn . . .

Immortal, invisible, God only wise,

In light inaccessible hid from our eyes,

Most blessed, most glorious, the Ancient of Days,

Almighty, victorious, Thy great Name we praise.

Unresting, unhasting, and silent as light,

Nor wanting, nor wasting, Thou rulest in might;

Thy justice, like mountains, high soaring above

Thy clouds, which are fountains of goodness and love.

To all, life Thou givest, to both great and small;

In all life Thou livest, the true life of all;

We blossom and flourish as leaves on the tree,

And wither and perish-but naught changeth Thee.

Great Father of glory, pure Father of light,

Thine angels adore Thee, all veiling their sight;

All praise we would render; O help us to see

'Tis only the splendor of light hideth Thee

6th church ruins at Glendalough, County Wicklow
©A. Rutherford
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