Ravens fed Elijah, when he needed desert time with God. Spirit Raven fed me when I needed a fresh Knowing.
The Bible was cornerstone in my Christian faith tradition. I grew up with a living word that grew right along with me. It was the book I turned to regularly, bursting with stories about people struggling to reconcile inner conflicts with their understanding of God.
For me, the Bible was a measuring rod and an appeal to rational thinking. It also was a proposal to dance in the metaphorical. I accepted the invite by laying the stories and characters onto my own life.
At a point, fights broke out in my denomination over the inerrancy of the Bible. They continued until the whole was divided.
It seemed that for some, giving words supreme authority became a hindrance to a relationship with the Holy Spirit and the whole of self. After all, if the faithful had an outer measurement to attain or even an invitation to stimulating mental jousting, why would they need to let Soul do its inner work?
In the midst of aggression, who needed a love relationship with God, lengthening the table beyond us, to them until there was no other? Those in transformation did.
But what if absolute interpretations were just right for where some were in their journeys? And what if tension creatively motivated others? What if the surety of an interpretation gave a welcomed grounding for some, just as struggling through the conceptual offered courage to others? The tension was mine to hold, not to judge.
I am grateful for foundational teachings and intellectually invigorating discussions. I am especially grateful for the breeze that continually blew through me, ever enticing me to sing Solomon’s Song.
Spirit Raven met me in the song. There together, we took the dive. Up on the high, craggy cliffs, I free fell into a fresh Knowing, the Sacred all around me, and also deep within!