At the center of our being is a point of nothingness which is untouched by sin and by illusion, a point of pure truth, a point or spark which belongs entirely to God, which is never at our disposal, from which God disposes of our lives, which is inaccessible to the fantasies of our own mind or the brutalities of our own will….It is like a pure diamond, blazing with the invisible light of heaven. It is in everybody, and if we could see it we would see these billions of points of light coming together in the face and blaze of a sun that would make all the darkness and cruelty of life vanish completely …the gate of heaven is everywhere.”
Thomas Merton, Conjectures of a Guilty Bystander
Two places come to mind when I read the above quote: the shower and rock concerts. I’ll focus on the latter. A few weeks ago, some family members and I went to see Porter Robinson’s “Smile” tour in Seattle. The experience was transcendent. While it might sound like high praise for Mr. Robinson, God’s presence isn’t confined to the talent of a performer. We already loved Porter’s music, and he, in turn, gave of himself to the crowd in a way that felt like love. In this mutual, open-hearted exchange, I sensed God had entered the picture.
I’ve been to Rush, Purity Ring, Van Halen, and many others. Most of the time, I felt God’s presence and got a glimpse of what heaven might feel and look like.
God? Why would God be at a concert? Isn’t there profanity, drugs, and heathens? Is the performer a false idol that the throngs are worshiping?
We misunderstand God if we think he avoids people because of their lifestyle. Morality is important, but God is a God of Grace and Love. We often mistake growing closer to God for becoming more moral, but if taken to its limits, this sort of sainthood is likely not at all what God wants for most of us. Taken to its extreme, an obsession on “moralness” is the ultimate denial of self. The philosopher Susan Wolf, professor of Philosophy at UNC at Chapel Hill, says that what she calls a “moral saint” may not even be a desirable state for most of us:
…In other words, if the moral saint is devoting all his time to feeding the hungry or healing the sick or raising money for Oxfam, then necessarily he is not reading Victorian novels, playing the oboe, or improving his backhand. Although no one of the interests or tastes in the category containing these latter activities could be claimed to be a necessary element in a life well lived, a life in which none of these possible aspects of character are developed may seem to be a life strangely barren.“
Susan Wolf, https://www.jstor.org/stable/2026228
The move to a more moral life is not being judged here, but it would likely preclude any Porter Robinsons, Beethovens, or Einsteins from emerging. Considering Christianity’s history is replete with geniuses who have “non-moral” interests, we must conclude that there is no direct religious or spiritual mandate to disregard creative action.
Yet we know, from the Bible and tradition, that we are to live holy lives. I would remind the reader that we’re also told that above all things is love, and even that God is love, and whoever abides in love abides in God, and God in her (1 John 4:16).
Perhaps it is not the life of the moral saint that is the goal, but living what I’ll call a godly life, which would include both moral and creative action. A godly life points us to love—love of self, love of the gifts that God has given us and that we’ve worked hard on, love of the people who listen to our music, read our stories, make our movies, or even score that touchdown. Have you seen big, burly football players cry, hug each other, and then jump into a crowd of strangers? Believe me, love is there.
At Porter’s concert, I saw all sorts of folks – from grown men in Pikachu outfits to old rockers, people in colorful pajamas, or moms dressed for a night out. Together, this diverse group of 18,000 people was one, jamming to EDM-infused pop rock and shaking the stands of Climate Pledge Arena. I’m a stodgy old Rush fan, and even I was dancing, or some approximation of it. While I hold that the creation is often greater than the creator, I believe the attitude and spirit of the artist have everything to do with it. A cocky, self-confident artist who doesn’t treat his audience with love will likely not have God there with him.
As I’ve mentioned on this blog, we’re going through the change of empty nesting. I feel God often, in the quiet of my smaller life now, a meditative whisper of His presence, in contemplation of releasing, and the joy of simple things. Yet, God’s presence is different from that of the awesome presence of a mass of people all loving and laughing together. I felt God’s overwhelming love as one among the masses, and for a moment, I caught a glimpse of what a different reality would be like, one with massive-scale love and God in it.
Of course, no one can stay on the top of the mountain. The emotional wave of these performances fades, and so we need God in the shower, the garden, and the rock concert. The gates of heaven are everywhere.
True talk here: I hesitate to use the word heaven. The word is so laden with images of humans with wings, harps, and clouds that it distorts the concept of our future; in the same way, the theologically sketchy concept of hell distorts what it means to be disconnected from God. This idea has more to do with Dante than with the Bible. Yet, there is something heavenly about these mass events like concerts. There is love at scale, and that is where God is. God doesn’t come to those pure, but those who love.
It’s interesting to evaluate the physical manifestation of a typical concert: a form of love shared between performer and attendee, generous use of color, music, excitement, and light in dark places. Richard Rohr states that we are “Christ-infused” beings, and we simply can’t help but seek God through our creations, from great architecture to celebratory music to the phone, a modern technological miracle.
This brings me to my last point – why create? Why do we toil, often in obscurity, on passion projects, on things that may not even feed us or our families, but we have to do it?
I believe humankind is always trying to recreate heaven to fill the unconscious need for a home we’ve never seen but feel in the depths of our souls. Shakespeare spoke of the afterlife as an “undiscovered country,” but in a context of fearfulness, I say we dream of this country in our creations.
To complete this analysis, I juxtapose a few videos and images and ask you: What elements do they share? Why would we seek such experiences? What does it say about human nature’s yearning?
Since comments are crazy spam food, shoot me an email at joe@happywisdom.com and I’ll share your contribution in the next post anonymously.
I leave you with the master, CS Lewis, on heaven.
Creatures are not born with desires unless satisfaction for those desires exists. A baby feels hunger: well, there is such a thing as food. A duckling wants to swim: well, there is such a thing as water. Men feel sexual desire: well, there is such a thing as sex. If I find in myself a desire which no experience in this world can satisfy, the most probable explanation is that I was made for another world. If none of my earthly pleasures satisfy it, that does not prove that the universe is a fraud. Probably earthly pleasures were never meant to satisfy it, but only to arouse it, to suggest the real thing.
17 C.S. Lewis, Mere Christianity, Signature Classics, 76.
Until next time…
Finally, Taylor Swift’s Era’s tour. What could be more spiritual than being so radically loved and accepted by your hero?
During this show and others Taylor takes the opportunity to show love to those who are suffering, like this little girl with cancer:
Certainly one place where you’d never feel alone is at a Taylor Swift concert. At the same time, Swift’s approach to stagecraft and live production has somehow managed to make the experience feel personal.”
https://www.berklee.edu/berklee-now/news/taylor-swifts-global-popularity-explained-berklees-version