To practice meditation as an act of religious faith is to open ourselves to the endlessly reassuring realization that our very being and the very being of everyone and everything around us is the generosity of God. For God is creating us in the present moment, loving us into being, such that our very presence in the present moment is the manifested presence of God. We meditate that we might awaken to this unitive mystery, not just in meditation, but in every moment of our lives.
-- James Finley
I read this observation recently and found myself wondering, when are we most awake to God as ultimate generosity?
Is it not when we are most aware of it in practical ways, in the day-to-day lives we live — when we have actually experienced generosity, either by receiving it or extending it?
And, perhaps, nothing makes things more practical to us than when they are directly connected to our sense of need. More obvious examples include times when we know we are in trouble, when we are in over our heads, when our most basic needs in life are somehow at risk.
We need a more comprehensive term when we are in these kinds of moments. Because when we’re not in such particular states of awareness about our needs, we might tend to think of help as something more like assistance or aid. But, when we are in trouble (and we know it), what is given to us is often understood at a much more profound level. We reach for and understand the depth of meaning behind someone’s generosity as both an unparalleled kind of practicality and a more sublime sense of a reality that is bigger than our own — a reality that is needed (maybe even desperately so).
Tami and I have had the privilege this weekend of listening to Conner and Gina talk about their experience with his brain cancer. We marvel, despite the trauma of it all, that gratitude about the generosity they have received is most prevalent in their minds. Though not always, this phenomenon is not all that unusual. The beauty (and healthy part) of it is that they aren't by-passing one thing for another, as they acknowledge and carry both realities.
I can't help but believe that this is a vivid representation of Finley's observation.
