Father Richard describes how both knowing and not-knowing can be trustworthy paths on the spiritual journey:
Each of us must strive for the internal spiritual balancing act between knowing and not-knowing. Perhaps the most universal way to name these two spiritual traditions is light and darkness. The formal theological terms are kataphatic (affirmative way)—employing words, concepts, and images—and apophatic (negative way)—moving beyond words and ideas into silence and beyond-rational knowing. I believe both ways are good and necessary. Together, they create a magnificent form of higher consciousness called biblical faith.
The apophatic way, however, has been largely underused, undertaught, and underdeveloped since the Protestant Reformation and the Enlightenment. In fact, Westerners became ashamed of our “not-knowing” and tried to fight our battles rationally. For several centuries, Christianity in the West has been in a defensive mode—a “siege mentality,” where we needed certainty and clarity, and where there was little room for not-knowing and the mystical tradition. Christians are still often in that regressive position today. It is crucial that we reintegrate these two streams of knowing and not-knowing in our time.
If we are going to talk about light, then we must also talk about darkness, because they only have meaning in relation to one another. In much of the world’s art, the sun and the moon are pictured together as sacred symbols. The solar light gives glaring brightness but paradoxically creates defined shadows. It can sometimes be so bright and clear that it actually obscures or blinds. Patriarchal religions usually preferred “sun” gods and the worship of fire, light, and order. While order and clarity are good, they also give us an arrogance about that very order and clarity.
Lunar light is much more subtle, filtered, and indirect, and in that sense, more clarifying and less threatening. Note that when God first divided light from darkness, God did not call it “good” (Genesis 1:3). From the very beginning, we are warned that we cannot totally separate light from darkness, or the two have no meaning. The whole of Creation exists inside of one full cycle: “Evening came and morning came and it was the first day” (Genesis 1:5). Separating them is apparently not good! All things on earth are a mixture of darkness and light.
I hope we can recognize how Jesus is more of a “lunar” teacher, patient with darkness and slow growth. He says, “The seed is sprouting and growing but we do not know how” (Mark 4:27). He seems to be willing to live with not-knowing, surely representing the cosmic patience and certain freedom of God. When we finally know we are not in charge, we do not have to nail everything down along the way. We can work happily and even effectively with “mustard seeds” (Mark 4:31).
Reference:
Adapted from Richard Rohr, Things Hidden: Scripture as Spirituality, rev. ed. (Franciscan Media, 2022), 123–125.
Image credit and inspiration: Niko Tsviliov, untitled (detail), 2023, photo, Ukraine, Unsplash. Click here to enlarge image. Just as the moon dances with shadow and light, remaining herself throughout, we also dance with shadow and light, reflecting her wisdom rhythms.
Story from Our Community:
We were heading into the sunset on our way to put Mercy, our 14-year-old beloved yellow lab, to rest. In my utter sadness I realized that my tears produced magnificent colors as I looked through them toward the sun. I felt the power and love from God wash over me in the brilliance. Peace enfolded me in the midst of grief.
—Ellen P.
