Misunderstanding Mystics

I admire mystics, but I do not understand them. I am an empiricist, almost painfully practical in the way I view the world. Yet I am mesmerized by the words of the mystics, who speak about experiences of God that are tangible in a way I cannot imagine. I read the words of Theresa of Avila, Julian of Norwich, and Bonaventure, and I am transfixed. They write as though they can see with their emotions, hear with their hearts, and smell with their intellect. They describe things that seem to me to be veiled beyond recognition. And they live with confidence in those perceptions; I imagine them as plants growing upside down, their roots planted firmly in midair. They somehow grow strong and blossom out of a foundation that is utterly invisible to me. I cannot understand how they exist that way, and I find their ability to defy my logic frustrating.

A few years ago, at a library sale at my seminary, I picked up a used copy of The Cloister Walk by Kathleen Norris. According to the inscription, the book once belonged to Roberta Bondi, a scholar who has written extensively about monastic spirituality. In light of the monastic connections and deep spirituality of both Norris and Bondi, I feel as though the book somehow fell out of its proper orbit. It should have been picked up by a deeply spiritual student, someone who would be inspired by both the work and its previous owner and go on to write works on mysticism or monastic communities, or at the very least a poignant spiritual memoir. Somehow, though, this book has fallen into my possession.

I view it as a challenge. Norris' words not only challenge me to deeper contemplation, they push me to engage, if only slightly, what Jonathan Edwards and John Wesley referred to as the "spiritual senses". I feel called to quiet my mind as much as possible and try to listen in the depths of my soul. After all, while I am ever skeptical of things I cannot back up with reason and empirical data, my faith is ultimately grounded in mystery, in things that are intangible. As I seek to grow in my faith, I have to face a reality that is beyond my ability to describe, quantify, or prove. So I continue to read the words of mystics, to try to understand Norris' descriptions of encounters with God, and to seek a reality beyond my physical experience.