MYSTICAL SEPTEMBER!

MYSTICAL SEPTEMBER!

Come September the mystical spirit creeps over me like ink into blotting paper. In a thrice my attention goes off at a tangent, drawn by the rain cascading down my window panes. I look out on a dew-drop-decked meadow beyond. How much living theology is written in the book of nature.
I see the glory and beauty of the universe with my third eye, the inner eye of the heart, the eye of wisdom, the eye of love.
How verdant and sprightly the grass is! I relish the refreshing smell of damp soil. The air is crisp and clear. It caresses me gently and wraps itself around me like a silken cloak. The trees are washed clean and inviting. I see flowers dancing gaily in gusty monsoon wind. I join in the dancing.
The fruit-laden, arching branches of trees creak and sing gaily as they sway rhythmically. I cannot resist the charm of nature. I enter sheepishly into God’s dance of exuberant joy and fullness of life.
I see herds of cows and flocks of sheep grazing merrily, lazily in the vast expanse of juicy, green, green grass. They surely savour and ruminate the delicious spread. I cannot take my eyes off this relaxing scene. I am in a pensive mood as I walk down a moist, muddy path. I wonder if humble animals can enjoy nature’s bounty, why can I not feel cosy in its encircling arms? It welcomes me too. In fact, I am already enjoying its motherly ways.
I sit silently, lovingly, mystically at the feet of Jesus, in this bracing, invigorating milieu.
I listen to the symphony of chirping, twittering birds in hundreds of leafy trees. What tranquility! Like medicinal balm for the afflicted heart. The birds of the air do not seem to have a care in the world. No fears, no inhibitions, no worries, no stress. They whistle and flit about in glee. What a delight for the eye. A joy to behold! I say to myself. Look and listen and learn to be like the flowers of the field and the birds of the air.
Joining the birds are the amazing, restless butterflies. These delicate fairy-like creatures catch my imagination. They settle down fleetingly, from one flower to the next, in search of delectable, divine nectar. They do not fret for their daily bread or store food for a rainy day. After all, Mother Earth is their home too.
I am reminded of the empty tomb of the risen Lord in the serene garden. Pregnant stillness! Resurrection power! Nature is the womb of God that receives me in silence.
I stand at the foot of an enchanting hillock. Rain water pours sown a steep fall, like a sheet of glass. I touch the icy-cold waterfall and feel a quickening of the spirit. I feel uplifted and empowered. I am at peace with myself, the surroundings and God. I somehow sense the Creator and His creation. This network has a warm centre called the heart, which is my habitation, my home. Ah! My pulse races. My heart gathers momentum.
There is a universal feeling of oneness that envelops me like an encircling morning mist. A time to cry, “Abba, Father!”
I enter an Ashram at the foothills. Thousands of bells chant sweet music. This coupled with the sonorously rich OM bring heaven down to earth. Cows walk leisurely back from their pastures, to a place that is their home, with little bells round their necks tinkling. I enter the hallowed space of the house of God. What quiet! Total serenity. Surely a tranquil place to be in. Peace pours over me like a soft rain falling sedately on dry ground. I enjoy unruffled calm, radiant joy and rest in God’s titillating presence. I am ensconced in the silence of the Master! The still small voice that spoke to Elijah whispers to me. God spoke to Moses “mouth to mouth” (Num.12:6), He speaks to me too that intimately. I know too well I am a mere earthling in an ethereal atmosphere.
I notice a few animals drink from the placid waters of a glistening stream, that playfully runs across the meadow. I grow ecstatic. The type of experience Abraham Maslow called the “peak experience”, the “moment of rapture”, conversion experience or a moment of illumination, something that St. Paul went through on the road to Damascus.
The low bushes almost cling to wet, soft banks and bloom luxuriantly in all their pristine beauty. A feast for the eye! I take in the ambrosial picturesqueness of Mother Earth. I realize I am slowly but surely getting to be one with the universe, the cosmos. I am astonished at how every single creature, animate and inanimate, is interrelated with the one true God. The awareness brings me prosperity, nothing-broken-nothing-missing, shalom! I know I am back in Paradise mankind had once lost.
And this gold nugget. Contemplation shakes the universe, topples the powers of evil, builds a great society and opens the door to eternal life. But, I did nothing to merit this wondrous grace!

LEON BENT