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Inscape – Br. Geoffrey Tristram

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Last week, I had a friend staying from England. The weather was glorious, and we went for a walk in Mount Auburn Cemetery. As we walked up one of the small paths, we paused at the top and looked over towards the lake, and we were stopped in our tracks. There was the most beautiful sugar maple, ablaze in color – orange and yellow and gold. Each leaf was shimmering in the breeze, and dazzling in the near horizontal rays of the sun. The tree seemed to be on fire. We just stood there, fixed to the ground, and stared. Wow! We finally said. It’s like Moses before the burning bush. We felt we were on holy ground. I thought of the poet Gerard Manley Hopkins’ words, “The world is charged with the grandeur of God. It will flame out, like shining from shook foil.”

It was an amazing experience – a real sense of God’s presence – a revelation, an epiphany. I expect you have had such experiences in your lives, when you saw God’s presence, perhaps in something astonishingly beautiful – or in something actually quite ordinary. The English mystic Julian of Norwich famously described her experience of gazing at a hazelnut in the palm of her hand, and seeing in it the whole mystery of God’s love for all of creation.

This kind of seeing could be called “spiritual in-sight” – the gift of being able to see an object or a person as God sees them: transfigured, and shot through with the divine.

The poet Gerard Manley Hopkins is one of my favorite Christian poets and I read him a lot. His poetry is exactly about truly seeing what is there. He was heavily influenced by the medieval theologian Duns Scotus, and he believed that the glory of God is everywhere – creation is shot through with it – the world is charged with it. But most of the time we just don’t see it. We are blind to it. Yet every created thing, every person, bears what he called an “in-scape,” a kind of inner landscape, printed on us by God, a stamp of divinity. And Hopkins, in his lyrical, but often difficult poetry, describes those soaring moments when we suddenly do see – when God’s grandeur flames out, like shining from shook foil.

And this mystery of seeing and not seeing is central to the message of the Gospels. The opening chapter of the Gospel of John proclaims that “the word became flesh and dwelt among us…and we have seen his glory.”(Jn. 1:14) And yet throughout that gospel, John goes on to grapple with the mystery of spiritual blindness, of those who do not see his glory. How is it that for some people to see Jesus was to see the Father. And yet others, especially the religious leaders, could not see Jesus’ divine “in-scape,” but just saw the carpenter’s son, or worse, a dangerous trouble maker.

The Gospel of Mark reflects on spiritual sight and blindness by telling two stories of Jesus healing a blind man. The first one is in chapter 8. The disciples are with Jesus in a boat, and they completely misunderstand what Jesus is saying. They’re beginning to see, but it’s still not clear. Jesus finally says to them in exasperation, “Do you still not perceive or understand? Do you have eyes and fail to see?”

And immediately afterwards they land at Bethsaida and a blind man is brought to him to heal. And there is this lovely story of Jesus laying hands on him and putting saliva on his eyes. “Can you see anything?” asks Jesus. “I can see people, but they look like trees walking.” So Jesus has another go – and this time he sees perfectly! Mark, with consummate skill, places the story here to highlight how the disciples, like the blind man, come to spiritual sight in stages – it takes them a long time to see Jesus in his full glory.

And then comes the second story of Jesus healing a blind man. This is the story in today’s Gospel, Mark chapter 10. Jesus and his disciples are nearing the end of their fateful journey to Jerusalem. They come to Jericho, the last town before Jerusalem. It was seething with people on their way to the Passover celebrations. They make their way through the town, and just as they were leaving, sitting by the roadside was a blind beggar called Bartimaeus. He heard the tramp of feet and commotion and asked what was happening. They told him Jesus was passing by. And he at once cried out, “Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me!” They tried to shut him up but he shouted all the more.

The great irony here is that although he was physically blind – he could see. He could see spiritually – “Jesus, Son of David” – he could see Jesus’ divine inscape. And Jesus came to him and healed him and praised him for his faith, for his spiritual insight.

So Bartimaeus gained his full sight, as they approached Jerusalem, and so too Jerusalem, with the cross and resurrection, would be the place where the disciples’ eyes would finally be fully opened – and they would at last see Jesus in all his divine glory.

Just like those disciples of Jesus, I believe God longs to open our eyes. We may each be able to recall particularly powerful moments when we saw in a powerful new way: perhaps as experiences of conversion, or a moment when a maple tree seemed to blaze with divine glory: moments of intensity – a revelation or an epiphany.

But I believe God wants us to practice truly seeing every day. We can, if we desire it, learn to see and expect to see the presence of God each day, even in the most ordinary
things. As we grow closer to God in prayer we begin to see as God sees. “In your light we see light.” (Ps. 36:9) Amazingly, what was just ordinary can be transfigured with God’s glory. The whole world is charged with the grandeur of God. If we ask God to open our eyes, that grandeur will flame out, like shining from shook foil.

There is a wonderful story told by the Trappist monk Thomas Merton about a profound experience he had of this very thing. Merton himself, like Gerard Manley Hopkins, was very heavily influenced by the theologian Duns Scotus, and too was open and receptive to the divine presence breaking out of the ordinary. He wrote about an extraordinary experience he once had on March 18, 1958. He was standing at a street corner in downtown Louisville. It was an ordinary day and ordinary people were going about their business. But as he looked at them they suddenly changed. He wrote, “I was suddenly overwhelmed with the realization that I loved these people…. I saw the secret beauty of their hearts, the person that each one is in God’s eyes.” “To me.” he wrote, “they seemed to be walking around shining like the sun.” He went on to wonder what the world would be like if we could all see each other as we really are. He muses, “I suppose the big problem would be that we would fall down and worship each other!”(Conjectures of a Guilty Bystander)

So how might we grow in our capacity to really see the world and each other, as God sees us? How can we develop our inner eye? I realize that I often have my most powerful experiences of God, and of seeing God’s glory, when I am on retreat. And that’s, I think, because I am paying attention. There is a word in the Gospels of Matthew (Matt. 6:28) and
Luke (Lk. 12:24), which Jesus uses about the birds of the air and the lilies of the field. He says, ‘consider’ them. The word ‘consider’ is a really strong one. It means, don’t just glance at them, but look, deeply, attentively, thoughtfully. Consider them, and you will see.

I think in our day, the opposite to ‘consider’ might be to ‘surf,’ as in ‘surf the net!’ How long do you spend surfing the net? Browsing, scanning – staying on the surface? If you are spending too much time surfing – here’s a challenge. Find a time, every day, when you will ‘consider’ – when you will look deeply, attentively, thoughtfully at one thing. Don’t do anything else but that one thing. It may be looking intensely at the leaf of a tree, or a feather, or an icon, or one or two words from Scripture. Don’t move on. Stay with it. Look into it. Try to see – to see its inscape. You may find it very difficult at first. You may get very bored. But keep looking at it. It’s charged – charged with the grandeur of God.

Today, in this worship, we take very ordinary things – bread and wine – and we bless them, and recognize that they, too, in a very special way, are charged with the very body and blood of Christ. As you receive these sacraments pray that God will open your eyes to see that the whole of creation is a sacrament – that everything and everyone we meet is sacred and charged with God’s glory.

Lord, open my eyes that I may truly see
That the world is charged with the grandeur of God.
It will flame out like shining from shook foil.

Amen.

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25 Comments

  1. Claudia Booth on May 20, 2017 at 19:17

    Yes, I do profoundly understand your message. I was going to say that I meet God everyday in the humility of my patients. However, I realize that I do, also, see God all around in flowers and animals and even in rain. It is more difficult to see God in situations of negativity and conflict. I need help with that.

  2. Rhode on May 20, 2017 at 10:04

    Picture a piece of food you have never tasted, much like the first time I saw chocolate cake dripping with frosting (I grew up eating only Asian food) it looked dark and strange but after that first delicious bite that cake became so much more than flour, eggs and flavoring.
    Taste! and See! that the Lord is good! This graphic invitation to open our mouths and physically experience the deliciousness of the goodness of God is to really begin to ‘see’ the fullness of what is being offered.

    • Rhode on May 20, 2017 at 11:11

      o my I think I just likened God to chocolate cake! Forgive me!

  3. Gary Davis on October 5, 2016 at 23:59

    I praise God for the raising these
    examples of “seeing” !

  4. Allene Taylor on October 3, 2016 at 06:50

    Thank you, Br. Geoffrey, for the gift of CONSIDER – on
    this early October morning. Will take it with me today.
    Your description of the tree brought back a memory of
    a gorgeous late winter sunset – on the road north
    of Albuquerque some years ago.

  5. Leslie on October 3, 2016 at 05:29

    My granddaughter, 16 months, delicately strokes leaves while still on the tree. I am reminded of the innate sense of Holy with which children are marked.

  6. Consider | The Episcopal Diocese of Louisiana on October 3, 2016 at 00:05

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  7. Dee Dee on May 30, 2016 at 22:43

    Thank you, Br. Geoffrey. As a person who experiences a very thin veil from time to time, it makes me feel a little less different to hear that others have these experiences. I have read about people like Merton and C.S. Lewis having this kind of experience, but no one I know has ever talked about experiencing this sort of thing themselves, so I’ve never quite known what to make of it when it happens to me. The one person I did share them with has gone away, and I haven’t shared them with anyone again. Your sermon has helped these moments to seem a little less overwhelming to me. Yes, they are wonderful but they are also a bit scary and make me feel kind of lonely, so I found your words very comforting. Thanks!

  8. Christina McKerrow on November 6, 2015 at 08:13

    Not only the golden and red leaves beautify this fall. The other morning sixteen swans swimming upon an inlet of the St. Lawrence River. What a gift. Christina

    • Christina on May 30, 2016 at 10:40

      This spring: the wonderful Oregon forests. Trees high above us; trees as far below to be seen on a little traveled switch back country road. Then, traveling on the train from Vancouver to Toronto, the sight of the Pyramid Falls. Stunning. What gifts. Christina

  9. N on November 6, 2015 at 08:01

    Another beautiful and modern vision of agape is W H Auden’s poem, ‘Out on the lawn I lie in bed’. Please have a look too at Abbot Jamison’s “Finding Happiness: Monastic Steps for a Fulfilling Life” and his counsel on overcoming acedia or what he terms ‘spiritual carelessness.’ Thank you for reminding me of these works with your wonderful meditation, Brother Geoffrey.

  10. Christopher Engle Barnhart on November 6, 2015 at 06:51

    Below is one of my favorite hymns written by Clara H. Scott::

    Open my eyes, that I may see
    Glimpses of truth Thou hast for me;
    Place in my hands the wonderful key
    That shall unclasp and set me free

    Refrain
    Silently now I wait for Thee,
    Ready my God, Thy will to see,
    Open my eyes, illumine me,
    Spirit divine!

    Open my ears, that I may hear
    Voices of truth Thou sendest clear;
    And while the wave notes fall on my ear,
    Everything false will disappear.

    Refrain

    Open my mouth, and let me bear,
    Gladly the warm truth everywhere;
    Open my heart and let me prepare
    Love with Thy children thus to share.

    Refrain

    • Ruth West on November 6, 2015 at 13:55

      Christopher, this hymn is also one of my favorites. I pray it today. Thanks for quoting the words.

  11. Patterson Keller on July 12, 2015 at 11:18

    Very refreshing and important

  12. Ruth West on May 8, 2015 at 22:46

    Br. Geoffrey, this is a great message. Thanks!
    I dreamed this week of holding a beautiful colored leaf in my hand and handing it to a friend. A leaf, what a treasure of God’s creation!
    “Open my eyes that I may see
    Visions of truth thou has for me…”

  13. Kemp Williams on May 8, 2015 at 15:59

    On our retreat with you last summer, you shared with us the poem “The Blue Iris,” by Mary Oliver, which so beautifully captures the sense of spiritual in-sight. I read it every week or so to remind myself to “see.” Thank you.

  14. Patricia on May 8, 2015 at 14:50

    This compelling quote from Thomas Merton has haunted me for years ever since I read it. To know this love I think would be to know God. Thank you for sharing it today.

  15. Sandra Ahn on May 8, 2015 at 13:00

    I once was blind but now I see……how great thou art. To make time each day to consider – what a peaceful way to taste and see what the Spirit is saying.

    Thank you.

  16. Jean de Jong on May 8, 2015 at 10:53

    Thank you Geoffrey /A beautiful message with which to begin the day especially so in another day of spring sunshine and warmth looking out on all the bursting trees and blossom and wonders of our Maker .

  17. anders on May 8, 2015 at 10:05

    Thank you. I believe it is not with just my eyes I see, it is with my whole spirit infused being that I really see. This being was also numbed by church teachings through shaming and dismissal of the body as weak flesh opposed to rather than channeling spirit. I am learning to see again and am grateful.

  18. Stepheny Houghtlin on May 8, 2015 at 09:38

    Many years ago Fr. Gregory Norris, Church of the Ascension on LaSalle st. in Chicago was my spiritual director and introduced me to the idea of glancing at Jesus throughout the day. I in turn in leading several retreats in NC mentioned how much that has meant to me. Here in your sermon you have added for me another valuable step…considering. I am a writer so words pack a lot of punch for me. Considering, now there is a word that has just taken on more value. Thank you. (I am a lapsed friend of SSJE, still have my cross, which came to me by way of Martin Smith, my friend, and once upon a time spiritual director. You can see how blessed my life has been.)

  19. N on May 8, 2015 at 08:42

    I consider myself blessed to begin the day with such a wonderful meditation. Thank you deeply. I hope that I can take you up on your wonderful invitation to practice less ‘surfing’ and more ‘consideration’.

  20. Carol Lamparter on May 8, 2015 at 07:20

    Thank you for this inspiring message. If we could, indeed, see every person and every thing as God sees them (as he created them to be), it would be a beautiful world. This meditation has motivated me make an effort at living in this way.

  21. Jack McKelvey on May 8, 2015 at 06:37

    Thx. Timeless. Jack

  22. Marian Free on May 7, 2015 at 20:07

    Thankyou

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