The Shadow-gloom and Weight of the Sacred

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I wrote last week about how we are exploring the book of Exodus and the theme of obscurity at church. There are some in our group reading the book The Dark Night of the Soul by Gerald May and this, I think, is where the theme of obscurity originated. The book didn't sound that interesting, so I'm not reading it (everyone who is reading it seems to be enjoying it so maybe I shouldn't judge a book by its blurb). I suspect my participation in the conversation regarding this theme would be greater if I were reading it, but I'm content with my choices thus far.

We address obscurity on two levels. First, there is the the word defined:

"The state of being unknown, inconspicuous, or unimportant. The quality of being difficult to understand, a thing that is unclear or difficult to understand. Synonyms: darkness, dark, murk, gloom, mirk, opacity, dimness, night, blackness."

The second level is moving from a static definition of a word to the dynamic realities of life. To define a word and embrace its definition is one thing, but to recognize in life and accept it the same way you accept the definition of a word, that's another thing altogether. There is an irony at work here: an attempt to make obscurity relatable. I thought this was all a really interesting and enjoyable exercise until last night.

The point of the obscurity theme, I think, is to stop trying to control everything. There's beauty in the obscure (this is what I wrote about last week; click the link at the beginning of this post to read) so let's all stop trying to avoid or ignore it. Let's embrace it. I definitely see value in doing this. I like it but the ongoing tragedy of what's happening in Japan loomed heavy over my thoughts last night. I can't imagine what looks clear to those people suffering right now. Everything is filterd through the earthquake and tsunami. But, here I am struggling to identify obscurity in purely academic fashion, or something like that. It all seemed so trite. The exercise that seemed interesting seemed like vanity.

I suppose, if I were to truly embrace obscurity, the unknown, I'd give up everything I have for those who have had everything stripped away from them. Then, I'd have nothing but obscurity to embrace. I'd have nothing else for my hands to grasp. Wouldn't it be best to explore obscurity from a position in which my life is really obscure and uncertain?
Japanese Red Cross Society