I'm reading about Gregory of Nyssa, a 4th century bishop who helped define our understanding of the mystery we call the Trinity. The Catholic Church (and others) regard Gregory as a saint. From what I've learned of him, I'd agree.

It's easy for me to think of previous lives–especially those lived so many centuries ago–as unsophisticated and primitive. Because their physical reach was shorter (they experienced less in terms of travel and exposure to other cultures and ideas), I assume they also journeyed shorter distances in search of the truth. But that's not the case. Observe Gregory of Nyssa, an individual of expansive vision and wisdom, unhampered by the possessions and "privileges" that we have, without Google or Direct TV or a selection of 100 breakfast cereals at his local grocery store. In the ordinariness of his days, was he far freer to experience that which matters? In actuality, he seems to have had far greater freedom than we do, freedom to range to the heavens, to the depths, to the center.

So often, I can't see around or through the stuff that clutters my life; "things" block my vision; "noise" distracts me. Still, when I slow down and allow myself time with the timeless–like the writings of Gregory of Nyssa (or the words of Jesus, the poems of Rumi, the sacred hours)–something does open, and, even if briefly, I catch a glimpse of what lies beyond, beneath, within…

Text and image © 2010 by Dirk deVries. All rights reserved.