I have known the breathless feeling of a sponge that has been wrung thoroughly and roughly above my life’s chipped sink, squeezed to the point of tearing by the chapped hands of God until my shape was nothing. Until I could not think.
I have known the way one squishes at the crushing of one’s foam, have felt the curious balling of a thing without a spine. But all of it led to a hope I do not hold alone: that when my water’s all pressed out, I might soak in his wine.
I prayed for wonders instead of happiness, and You gave them to me. —Abraham Joshua Heschel, The Ineffable Name of God: Man
Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel (1907–1972) is known for his prophetic action and commitment to “radical amazement.” Theologian Bruce Epperly explains:
Heschel lived out a holistic balance of delight and awe, radical amazement, and prophetic challenge.
At the heart of Heschel’s mystical vision is the experience of radical amazement…. Wonder is essential to both spirituality and theology: “Awe is a sense for the transcendence.… It enables us to perceive in the world intimations of the divine.” [1]
Wonder leads to the experience of radical amazement at God’s world. Created in the image of God, each of us is amazing. Wonder leads to spirituality and ethics. As Heschel noted, “Just to be is a blessing, just to live is holy. The moment is the marvel.” [2]
Heschel considers the significance of a worldview of radical amazement:
The world presents itself in two ways to me. The world as a thing I own, the world as a mystery I face. What I own is a trifle, what I face is sublime. I am careful not to waste what I own; I must learn not to miss what I face.
We manipulate what is available on the surface of the world; we must also stand in awe before the mystery of the world. We objectify Being but we also are present at Being in wonder, in radical amazement.
All we have is a sense of awe and radical amazement in the face of a mystery that staggers our ability to sense it….
Awe is more than an emotion; it is a way of understanding, insight into a meaning greater than ourselves. The beginning of awe is wonder, and the beginning of wisdom is awe.
Awe is an intuition for the dignity of all things, a realization that things not only are what they are but also stand, however remotely, for something supreme. Awe is a sense for the … mystery beyond all things. It enables us … to sense in small things the beginning of infinite significance, to sense the ultimate in the common and the simple; to feel in the rush of the passing the stillness of the eternal. What we cannot comprehend by analysis, we become aware of in awe.
Faith is not belief, an assent to a proposition; faith is attachment to transcendence, to the meaning beyond the mystery.
Knowledge is fostered by curiosity; wisdom is fostered by awe. Awe precedes faith; it is the root of faith. We must be guided by awe to be worthy of faith.
Forfeit your sense of awe, let your conceit diminish your ability to revere, and the universe becomes a market place for you. The loss of awe is the avoidance of insight. A return to reverence is the first prerequisite for a revival of wisdom, for the discovery of the world as an allusion to God. [3]
References:
[1] Bruce G. Epperly, Mystics in Action: Twelve Saints for Today (Maryknoll, NY: Orbis Books, 2020), 81; Abraham Joshua Heschel, I Asked for Wonder, ed. Samuel H. Dresner (New York: Crossroad Publishing, 1983, 2022), 21.
[2] Epperly, Mystics in Action, 81; Abraham Joshua Heschel, “To Grow in Wisdom,” in The Insecurity of Freedom (New York: Schocken Books, 1972), 82.
[3] Abraham J. Heschel, Who Is Man? (Stanford, CA: Stanford University Press, 1965), 88–89.
Image credit: A path from one week to the next—Madison Frambes, Untitled 4, 1, and 7 (detail), 2023, naturally dyed paper and ink, Mexico, used with permission. Click here to enlarge image.
When we are in awe, there are no deeds to be done or words to be said; a simple, ecstatic surrender.
I have recommended numerous books on this blog–many are listed under the “Books to read” tab. I realize that not every book that speaks to me personally will necessarily do the same for others, but I would like to at least mention a few books by Joshua Elzner that have greatly impacted my spiritual life over the last couple of years. I would even say that my relationship with the Lord has been significantly transformed as a result of reading his writings. So I offer them here knowing that there might be the possibility of them impacting your spiritual lives as well.
This first book is set up to be read over the span of 40 days. It begins with a short autobiography written by Joshua in order to situate his writings within his own spiritual development. The chapters are short, just enough to chew on for a day. So many things from this book have impacted me. Here’s just a snippet from what I read a couple of days ago:
“All that I am, all that I have ever felt, known, had, or desired–all shame and fear, all desire and effort, all failure and guilt, all capacities and incapacities, all experience and expectation–everything, absolutely everything, is to be laid before him in trusting nakedness, and to be opened wide, in unconditional poverty, to receive his gift as he wishes to give it. And this gift is ultimately his very Self . . . ”
This next book is, as the cover indicates, a commentary on the Song of Songs. I have read many books on the Song of Songs, but this one by far opened up the Song in a way that no other had. If you are longing for intimacy with God, this is the book for you.
These next two have just been recently released and are the first two in the Dawnbringer series. They are written in the style of Tolkien and other great myth creators. This is an incredibly beautiful, well written story that has moved me to tears numerous times by its beauty and goodness.
When I found out that St. Peter’s keeps their Christmas tree and crèche up in the square until February 2, I decided (as our Superior) that we would keep our crèche in the chapel and all our Christmas lights up until then as well. I always felt gypped that there were not 40 days to celebrate after Christmas as there are after Easter. Then I discovered that February 2, the Presentation of the Lord (Candlemas), is indeed 40 days after Christmas. So, to me, it makes total sense to keep those Christmas lights lit. If you drive past our house right now, you will still see our candle lights in the windows. I personally love clusters of little white lights. When we begin the Salve Regina at the end of night prayer, the guitarist dims all the lights in our chapel. During this season, that leaves only the Christmas lights and the sole candle lit before the icon of the Mother of God. Yet the chapel still seems bright.
In the beginning of his 1999 Christmas message, Pope Benedict spoke of how God “loves to light little lights.” I found that particularly encouraging as I thought of all of us who are desiring to be God’s witnesses to hope. May it encourage you as well, and may you call it to mind whenever you see Christmas lights and candles:
The liturgy of the Mass at Dawn reminded us that the night is now past, the day has begun; the light radiating from the cave of Bethlehem shines upon us. . . . At first, beside the manger in Bethlehem, that “us” was almost imperceptible to human eyes. As the Gospel of St. Luke recounts, it included, in addition to Mary and Joseph, a few lowly shepherds who came to the cave after hearing the message of the Angels. The light of that first Christmas was like a fire kindled in the night. All about there was darkness, while in the cave there shone the true light “that enlightens every man” (Jn 1.9). And yet all this took place in simplicity and hiddenness, in the way that God works in all of salvation history. God loves to light little lights, so as then to illuminate vast spaces.
May we allow God to light each of us, little lights in this darkened world.
They have brought gold and spices to my King,
Incense and precious stuffs and ivory;
O holy Mother mine, what can I bring
That so my Lord may deign to look on me?
They sing a sweeter song than I can sing,
All crowned and glorified exceedingly:
I, bound on earth, weep for my trespassing,–
They sing the song of love in heaven, set free.
Then answered me my Mother, and her voice
Spake to my heart, yea answered in my heart:
‘Sing, saith He to the heavens, to earth, Rejoice:
Thou also lift thy heart to Him above:
He seeks not thine, but thee such as thou art,
For lo His banner over thee is Love.’
Epiphany has traditionally been the celebration of three mysteries: the coming of the Kings, Jesus’ baptism, and the wedding feast of Cana. Here’s a beautiful little extract from “Hymn for Epiphany” by Paul Claudel, celebrating the wedding feast. I can’t help that what Christ did with the water is the very same he would do for each of us, without hesitation. Changing our impure water into incredible wine.
The third mystery truly is at Galilee’s wedding repast (For the first time that we see Thee, it is not as Host but as Guest) When Thou dost change into wine, on Thy Mother’s whispered word, The secret water there in the ten stone water-jars stored, The bridegroom lowers his eyes. He is poor and oppressed with love: For cistern water is hardly drink for a marriage, you know, Such as it is in August when the reservoirs are low, All filled with the impurities and with insects, not fit to show.
Witnesses to Hope 