Frederick Buechner, Patrick Murray, Carl Jung: Synchronicity

Frederick Buechner, Patrick Murray, Carl Jung: Synchronicity

“I remember sitting parked by the roadside once, terribly depressed and afraid about my daughter’s illness and what was going on in our family, when out of nowhere a car came along down the highway with a license plate that bore on it the one word out of all the words in the dictionary that I needed most to see exactly then. The word was TRUST. … The owner of the car turned out to be, as I’d suspected, a trust officer in a bank, and not long ago he found out where I lived and one afternoon brought me the license plate itself, which sits propped up on a bookshelf in my house to this day. It is rusty around the edges and a little battered, and it is also as holy a relic as I have ever seen.” —Frederick Buechner in Telling Secrets (HarperOne, 1991).

Frederick Buechner so beautifully relates this incidence of synchronicity, or coincidences, or serendipity. Many believe such an experience is an occasion when the unconscious speaks to our consciousness. How this happens is a mystery that Jung and Patrick Murray describe as “a relationship between an inner psychic experience and outer physical event.” A synchronicity is “a meaningful coincidence that contributes to one’s sense of wholeness.”

In spiritual direction, we talk about looking for times of synchronicity, the occurrence of meaningful coincidences, being aware of them and pondering them—not letting them just slip by. Patrick Murray calls these “moments of transformation, embracing us with a profound sense that life is ultimately purposeful.”

We sense a holy connection. A friend happens to call just when we needed it. We turn on the radio and hear a musical piece that brings back pleasant memories of a time we heard it when we were with a loved one or dear friend. We feel peace. There are moments like that every day if we just step out of our routine to be aware of them.

At our food pantry I usually stand in a certain place inside and talk to those coming by for food. Today we came a little late and there were people sitting outside already, just waiting for the bags filled with their orders. For some reason, I decided to go outside and greet people there. Suddenly I saw a friend I had worked with for thirty-three years, who had just lost her job. We hugged and she told me about her struggles finding another job. I saw courage and faith as I have never seen before. She had a plan and was not giving up, and she still felt very cared for by a loving God. For me, this was synchronicity—that we ran into each other and could support each other just for a few moments.

I will put this visit in the memory book of my imagination and hope to remember to be on the lookout each day for times like this—when the Holy calls us and offers to us an opportunity to share the Christ in each other.

[See Patrick Murray, “Jung’s Concept of Synchronicity,” The Haden Institute, December 2002.]

Joanna joannaseibeibert.com

De Waal: Trinity Connected

De Waal: Trinity Connected

“If I am estranged from myself, then I am also estranged from others too. It is only as I am connected to my own core that I am connected to others.” —Esther de Waal in Living with Contradiction: An Introduction to Benedictine Spirituality (Morehouse, 1997).

Esther de Waal’s writings make accessible to us the Celtic way of life. It is a life in which we learn about ourselves in relationships to others, in relationships to ourselves, in relationship to nature and to daily life in the world outside. This life calls for almost constant prayer and connection to God and awareness of each precious moment. De Waal reminds us how easy it is to walk or drive rushing from one task to another, without any awareness of the people we pass by in our paths. All too often, instead of silently sending love to them, we make snap judgments and label them by their appearance or the clothes they wear.

I am indebted to de Waal for one more book on Celtic spirituality, The Celtic Way of Prayer: The Recovery of the Religious Imagination. Today I am rereading her chapter on Celtic prayers about the Trinity as we prepare for Trinity Sunday. She reminds us of the Celtic tradition of placing three drops of water on an infant’s forehead immediately after birth to remind us that the Trinity is now indwelling in the infant.

In the Celtic tradition, the Trinity is a natural part of the daily songs and prayers at work, and is praised through the changes in the seasons. The day of the Celtic life begins with splashing three handfuls of water on the face in the name of the Trinity. The day ends as the embers of the household fire are spread evenly on the hearth in a circle divided into three equal sections, with a square of peat laid between each. This is called the Hearth of the Three. A woman then closes her eyes, stretches out her hand and softly sings this prayer:

The sacred Three

“To save,

To shield,

To surround,

The hearth,

The household,

This eve,

This night,

Oh! this eve,

This night,

And every night,

Each single night.

Amen.”

—Carmina Gadelica I, “The Trinity” in The Celtic Way of Prayer (Doubleday, 1997).

De Waal describes what she has learned from the Celtic Trinitarian tradition: “It allows me to be at ease with a mystery that no longer threatens but supports, refreshes, and strengthens me.”

The Threeness and connectedness of the Trinity also remind me of a prayer that is anonymous, and sometimes attributed to William Blake—but sounds so Celtic:

“I sought my God;

My God I could not see.

I sought my soul

My soul eluded me.

I sought my brother

And I found all three.”

Joanna. Joannaseibert.com

Celtic Spirituality and Nature

Celtic Spirituality and Nature

“There is no creature on the earth

There is no life in the sea

But proclaims your goodness.

There is no bird on the wing

There is no star in the sky

There is nothing beneath the sun

But is full of your blessing.

Lighten my understanding

Of your presence all around, O Christ

Kindle my will

To be caring for Creation.”

—Phillip Newell, “Wednesday Morning” in Celtic Prayers from Iona: The Heart of Celtic Spirituality (Paulist Press, 1997).

Canada Lake. Cricket time

The late Native American producer and musician, Jim Wilson, recorded the chirping sounds of crickets at regular and slowed-down speed, which is said to match “the average life span of humans.” In the slowed-down version, the crickets seem to be singing alleluias. (https://youtu.be/jk5gibBg-4g)

It is an impressive sound of praise from nature. No one else to my knowledge has been able to reproduce the sound, so it may be manipulated in some way; but nevertheless, I have listened to the recording so often that when I am outside in the night sky with the crickets, I hear an angelic chorus.

There is no question that birds, especially in the early morning, seem to be singing a new oratorio to Creation each day as the sun comes up. The stars at night are like fireworks from millions of miles away reminding us of a spectacle beyond our comprehension. The waves at the ocean are like a percussion instrument that keeps us aware of the constant, steady heartbeat of Creation—sometimes crashing like cymbals, sometimes tinkling softly like the ring of a triangle. I also hear from so many pet owners that they have experienced unconditional love for the first time from their pets, especially from dogs.

The love and praise of God is all around us, but especially in nature. Listen for it.

Joanna joannaseibert.com