Lest we forget

There is a series of ads on TV here in NZ, run by one of our mental health agencies. Each ad features a very ordinary person, as desribed by friends and family. The ad ends with the observation that the person has an identified mental illness, and them saying "know me before you judge me".

Sometimes blogging is like a mental illness, I think. It is an obscuring veil over reality.

For instance: I have just returned from one of my best friend's wedding, 7 hours away in Rotorua, one of New Zealand's tourist meccas. It was inexpressably fantastic. I still feel very, very moved.

But some things defy words, and are diminished when forced into them. I won't attempt to capture the glory and greatness of the event - the majestic sweep of friendship, love and celebration that - under God - is an enormous privilege and a great calling, a truly humbling thing and a thing that sends one out, changed and comissioned to do thou likewise.

For another instance: who would know, reading this, that the most significant things to come out of the comments thread of the post below about the Faith in Focus article occured off the blog? Yet those things go to the heart of the people involved. And they are the truly significant things, without which the rest is a veil.

I think that the sacraments we Christians practice as part of formal worship are like a drawing back of the veil. And the things that happen off-blog are likewise a drawing back of the veil. But in both cases, one must be involved behind the viel to understand the surface appearance. The signifiers are but poor pointers, an indication of what might be real. If we take them beyond their worth, or misunderstand their point, we corrupt both. In fact, we idolise them.

I can think of no other way to describe this weekend than to say it was like the breath of God, permeating all. It was like the most profound sense of place and belonging, of comfort and love. Such times come upon us like unexpected rendings of the veil, glimpses of a yet greater glory which eye has not seen nor ear heard - for which we can only be caught up in thanksgiving and awe.

I started this blog with this post. I continue it now with the same thought: it is but a veil, a mental illness, through which mere glimpses of what might be real - for myself and all who write on it - may be seen.