Divine Summer

Summer brings out God in me. It sounds strange to put it that way. What I mean is that the God in me (who is also in you) somehow becomes more noticeable to me in the summer. Hmm. That does not sound right either. The statement is not nearly strong enough. Let me try again.

God is in me, and I am in God. The apostle Paul approvingly quoted the Greek poet Aratus, saying, “In Him we live and move and have our being.” Jesus taught, “I am in my Father, and you are in me, and I am in you.” Christianity speaks about the Holy Spirit of God indwelling us. Judaism speaks of the image of God in us. Hindu tradition says that the divine atman in us is identical with the divine Brahman in the cosmos. Buddhists speak of the Buddha nature.

Call it whatever you want, I experience it afresh in summer. It probably has to do with the fact that I have finally escaped enslavement to my hungry woodstove and can get outside and breathe fresh air. In the natural world the Divine Presence consumes me. My sense of separateness and individuality disappears into God.

At such moments I cease to be. My self - my psyche, ego, personality, or whatever you want to call this persona known as Marshall Davis – dissipates. It is a mist that evaporates in the presence of the Sun. A shadow that fades in the Light. A ripple on the lake that dissipates in the morning Calm.

This is not a spiritual exercise that I practice or an experience I try to elicit. It simply happens. I go outside to do some chores around the house or take a walk, and it occurs. I could not stop it if I tried. You could call it grace. It feels like losing consciousness, except that I am more conscious, not less. It feels somewhat like dying, but without any fear of nonexistence. I die, and I am reborn. I cease to exist, yet I am.

At such times my self becomes indistinguishable from God and God’s Creation. Oh my, this sounds like I have been frequenting a recreational marijuana dispensary (legal now, of course) in one of our neighboring states. I assure you I have not. The most I imbibe these days is caffeinated tea or an occasional glass of wine or beer.

It is not a mystical experience. Neither is it a religious experience. I hesitate to even call it spiritual. It is very ordinary and normal. It is not an altered state of consciousness.  It is simply seeing what is - that God is One. It is really not even seeing; there is no seer or seen.

I believe everyone knows this Divine Unity at some level. I certainly have memories of such awareness as a child. But in recent years it has become clearer. These days this unitive awareness never completely leaves. It simply ebbs and flows. It is the background music of my life. It is the ever-present sound of a stream flowing in the distance. But in the summer the stream becomes a flood.

I plant a garden, and I fall headlong into Eden. I take a dip in the lake, and I am immersed in God’s vastness. I take a walk, and I am strolling with the Second Adam in the New Jerusalem. It is summer, and the Kingdom of Heaven is close enough to touch. Summer brings out God in me.