Bishop John Shelby Spong: “The older I get the more deeply I believe but the fewer beliefs I have,” he said, citing an adage once relayed to him by an older bishop. ‘And I think that’s probably where I am. I have a sort of mystical awareness (of God) that’s indescribable, but I can’t avoid it. When I’m asked to define God I’m almost wordless.’”
When I fall into something awesome, or the deeps surge up or I am surrounded by a mist of satisfaction, I experience the Presence of God. I can’t explain it and I can’t define it. It sustains me, challenges me, and pushes me forward. I don’t get the mechanics of it.
A Native young adult posts something that makes me smile because it is so taking a hold of his future.
A homeless man recognizes me and waves.
Two friends take the risk of a marriage and are so happy at the result.
I see a picture of a sunrise or an ocean or a tree and I melt.
The Holy keeps happening and I don’t care what other people think of how bad their experience of religion has been. I am enraptured by the sacredness of the moment.