Speaking is antithetical to God insofar as language – an instrument of exquisite human workmanship – in its determining process – every proposition is a determination – can only be but inadequate in facing the indefinable.
If one wishes to join God, it is not the utility of the medium in itself that needs attention; or, conversely, a language that is built on economic needs – when God is money, and money is God – it is no ‘narrow gate’ that leads to the Kingdom of Heaven (Mt 7:13).
However, by grace, that same God who we have understood as He who cannot be thought of as the greatest, is still there, regardless of language.
As a matter of fact, the choice of this medium is misplaced, anaemic. Especially because anyone involved in the process of evolution towards God experiences silence; the silence of God, the silence of wonder, the speechlessness of the (re)discovery of the divine.
Since the medium one uses is compromised, how is it possible to tell you about His passage that is sharp as sickle, about wanting to embrace God?
The eternal re-proposition of the relationship with God, the fascination of God, who with his voice draws us to him – not with his words – in an infinity that is languor, in an interpenetration that allow ourselves to be loved.
Teachers are not those who merely teach but give their entire selves in order to nurture the disciple well. “No man can come to me except the Father which hath sent me draw him: and I will raise him up at the last day” (John, 6:44, KJV).
If we think about it, every time we enounce “God” it is nothing more than a warble, a baby’s raspberry experiencing his or her voice; that is why the greatest thinkers avoid speaking when proposing a path to Him:
My propositions are elucidatory in this way: he who understands me, finally recognises them as senseless, when he has climbed out through them, on them, over them (He must so to speak throw away the ladder after he has climbed up on it).
He must surmount these propositions; then he sees the world rightly.
Whereof one cannot speak, thereof one must be silent. (Wittgenstein, Tractatus, 6.54, 7)
There is no desire to ‘clench our lips by congesting them with words’ – only by keeping silent can we speak of God – but rather a will of a silence of an interior nature that does not exclude the possibility of shouting to God our daily joust. It is the attempt to encompass the self while waiting to become wholesome; the eternal re-proposition of the relationship with God, the fascination of God, who with his voice draws us to him – not with his words – in an infinity that is languor, in an interpenetration that allow ourselves to be loved.
I furthermore do not deny that the relationship with the divine is also a hermeneutic relationship of Truth – the first trembling steps ‘shaken by the fires that crackled in me and now blaze’ – and it is certainly different for everyone from that of others. A wanderer’s way of moving solitarily unselfish.
Like stretching before a race, Merry Del Val’s litanies are an exemplary exercise in this regard. I say ‘unselfish’ because once again, we are faced with such a well-known paradox, that it is not even remembered: everyone is your neighbour. There is no action carried out towards the other person that is not an action towards ourselves and towards God. There is nothing new in this, and the Ecclesiastes presents us with its truth:
The thing that hat been, it is that which shall be; and that which is done is that which shall be done: and there is no new thing under the sun.
Is there any thing whereof it may be said, See, this is new? It hath been already of old time, which was before us. (Ecc. 1: 9-10, KJV)
Encompassing the Self means leaving a space within oneself that is – at the same time – filled; in a game aimed at letting go physical aspect with its demands during our meditations, and, by doing so, be able to welcome beauty.
It is obvious that this implies an effort and is this perhaps our destiny?