Einstein on Religion

"The most beautiful emotion that we can experience is the mysterious. It is the fundamental emotion that stands at the cradle of all true art and science. He to whom this emotion is a stranger, who can no longer wonder and stand rapt in awe, is as good as dead, a snuffed-out candle. To sense that behind anything that can be experienced there is something that our minds cannot grasp, whose beauty and sublimity reaches us only indirectly: this is religiousness. In this sense, and in this sense only, I am a devoutly religious man." 

-- Albert Einstein, from the biography by Walter Isaacson, reprinted in TIME magazine, April 2007



Last night the weather was absolutely perfect. The drive home was late, but the flicker of fireflies in the grassy ditches made it well worth the fatigue. I turned off the music to contemplate another day - and all the wonder that came with it. Silence. I could hear my own thoughts, and the beliefs that were flowing out from them. Some of them were true. Some of them were not.

What is the value of quiet? How much real quiet {stillness, prayer, silence, reflection} do you experience daily? Does it bring about fear or wonder? Is it the reflection and prayer that bring us back to center, or the monster that brings out the fears that we've been running from? How will you know if you never take out those headphones?

When faced with a difficult {work} decision a few years ago, my boss gave me a piece of advice that I will never forget: take an hour or two of solitude and meditation before you decide. Seek God's wisdom and will for your life by just being still before Him. Was it hard to carve out that time? Yes. Did it make a difference in my clarity of thought? Yes. I took an hour to reflect on what had brought me to the NOW, and what God had done since that initial journey into the workforce. It was a lesson in re-centering myself; re-aligning myself with the greater purpose that He has for my life. It's the purpose and focus that so often gets lost in the daily grind, the shuffle of paperwork on my desk and the constant drippings of contention from the outside. It's Monday, and all I can think about is how tired I am.

Why am I here?

What's the best way for me to answer that question?

<(( Lessons from the Lines of Charlotte Bronte ))>

“The loneliness of [Miss Mann's] condition struck her visitor in a new light; as did also the character of her ugliness, - a bloodless pallor of complexion, and deeply worn lines of feature. The girl pitied the solitary and afflicted woman; her looks told what she felt: a sweet countenance is never so sweet as when the moved heart animates it with compassionate tenderness...Reader! When you behold an aspect for whose constant gloom and frown you cannot account, whole unvarying cloud exasperates you by its apparent cause-lessness, be sure that there is a canker somewhere, and a canker not the less deeply corroding because it is concealed.”                                                            -- From "Shirley," by Charlotte Bronte, page 174

We wear the mask. Some days, we'll wear any mask at all that will hide the real things below. The insecurities of this physical life catch us and threaten to choke hold unless we find a solution - and quickly. We paint our faces, cinch waistlines, and smile when our hearts are breaking. The cankers still corroding, we laugh and make merry, certain that what is out of sight can do no harm. If only that were really true. 

The wit and wisdom of Charlotte Bronte is worth reading. Hiding, as it were, behind the pages of her books, she feels at liberty to divulge the secrets of her characters. They're only human, after all. They struggle, hurt, search and find just like we do. They hold onto the wrongs suffered and let them corrode into physical ailments, just like we do. They're fallen human beings, just as we are. The beauty of literary observation is that it's impersonal. To point out the flaws of a fictional character is easy. Far easier than seeing the cankers in our own hearts. Perhaps one thing can lead to another. To put myself in her shoes allows me to see myself with her flaws; to feel what she feels; to be subject to searching out those same things in the depths of my own heart.   {Luke 6:45; Matthew 12:34}

To be honest, I was disappointed to read a happy ending on the last page of "Shirley." Maybe it's because the rest of the book tasted so real in comparison. The struggles and heartaches and frustrations of life can feel so much more intense than joy - and why? Because I focus on the wrongs suffered. 1 Corinthians 13 love has yet to take full root in my heart and actions - I'm still keeping score. There's a canker there... and it's not any less destructive because no one can see. 

My friends, there is a happy ending, and it's beautiful. The story of redemption is wrought with suffering, death, sin, heartbreak and pain. But there's more... there's a happily ever after: being in the Redeemer's presence for all eternity. Like the hero who stoops down and saves Caroline from a life of loneliness and poverty, Christ has paid a high price for our righteousness, peace, joy, and redemption. It's not any less real because it's wonderful. In fact, the beauty of the deep, dark times of life is that they provide a dramatic contrast to the truly joyful ones. 

"O, cease to heed the glamour
That blinds your foolish eyes,
Look upward to the glitter
Of stars in God's clear skies.
Their ways are pure and harmless
And will not lead astray,
Bid aid your erring footsteps
To keep the narrow way.
And when the sun shines brightly
Tend flowers that God has given
And keep the pathway open
         That leads you on to heaven."      

 

- R. Frost, "God's Garden,"