(TS Eliot Four Quartets)

The two friends are walking slowly along the road from Jerusalem, dragging their feet, not really sure why they’re going this way, not caring whether they ever arrive. The hopes they’d shared have collapsed. The dream has died. The one who gave them hope, who shaped the dream, is dead. Best to let the fellowship of three years die with him, along with the dream, with its deceptive promise.

Too weary to lift their eyes from the dusty track, they don’t notice that a stranger has been for some time keeping pace with them. Until he speaks. Asks them why they walk along, looking so sad…

The question startles them into stillness. They look at him in wonder. “Where have you been these past days? How could you not know? What are you, deaf, dumb and blind, or perhaps an idiot?”

The stranger is none of these things. He resumes his walk. Without knowing they are doing so, they begin to accompany him, listening to his words with disbelief, then with wonder, finally with astonishment stirring embers of hope.

This stranger reminds them of the writings of the prophets, of the stories they have known all their lives, without understanding what they meant. “Don’t you see that the suffering of the Christ was the very path to the new life he promised?”

When they finally turn from the road towards Emmaus. the stranger makes as though to go further. They beg him to stay with them for a meal. In the breaking of the bread, their eyes are opened and they know him, even as he vanishes from their sight…

They look at one another, each seeing a light of reborn joy in the face of his friend.

“Were not our hearts burning within us as he spoke to us, showing us what the scriptures meant?”

And even though it’s late, they set out at once to return to their friends in Jerusalem.

This story is two thousand years old, yet as relevant as today’s news: the latest landfall of Hurricane Beryl, the latest political intrigues, election results, economic downturns, the latest failed peace talks, the deaths from wars, from sinking ships filled with refugees, from weather-related scorching heat and flooding rains, from suicides, from drug overdoses…The dawning awareness that our planet is dying.

Today, should someone dare to express surprise at our sadness, we reply in words very like those of the walkers on the road to Emmaus: “Where have you been these past days? How could you not know? What are you, deaf, dumb, blind, or perhaps an idiot?”

A few days ago, I listened as someone dared to risk hearing that very response, dared to suggest something even more radical: that JOY is what’s needed in this present reality…someone I see as prophet and mystic in our time: Andrew Harvey.

In the past ten years on this blog, Sophiawakens, I’ve offered teachings of the prophets of our time: Teilhard de Chardin, visionary scientist in love with the Universe; Mary Oliver, magnificent poet in love with the earth and the life it nurtures; Thomas Berry and Brian Swimme following Teilhard’s lead to reveal the wonders of the Universe within and around us. The mystics of our time are often the physicists and cosmologists. As well, for the first time in human history, we have access to the sacred writings of all ages, all spiritualities, along with the writings and poetry of their mystics. Words of guidance are as close to us as the small screens on our phones.

Yet, like the two walking to Emmaus, we deserve the stranger’s words of chastisement:

“You foolish ones! So slow to believe the full message of the prophets!”

On July 3, in the first of seven weekly presentations on the Shift Network entitled “The Ultimate Rebellion Against Darkness and Despair”, Andrew Harvey spoke of joy:

We have this opportunity right now to share from the deepest part of ourselves at a crucial moment in our evolution about the real force of evolution that is joy….

All of the constructions we’ve ever had about life, about God, about society, about stability, about the lasting nature of life and of… the Earth, all of these structures are now being destroyed….

The intensity of what we’re living is opening us up to ever deeper divine resources within ourselves. As the illusions burn down, we discover that not only do they not destroy our identity, they reveal aspects of our identity far braver, far more beautiful, far wilder, far more loving, far more passionate, far more compassionate, far, far more joyful than we ever imagined we had. That’s the nature of this stupendous stretching of the entire psyche and spirit of the human race, this great birthing process that is happening.

Do you hear in Andrew’s words a distant echo of the writings of the great 14^th century mystic Julian of Norwich? Julian’s hope-filled words, scarcely known before the twentieth century, were woven by TS Eliot into his Four Quartets:

Quick now, here, now, always—

A condition of complete simplicity

(Costing not less than everything)

And all shall be well and

All manner of thing shall be well

When the tongues of flame are in-folded

Into the crowned knot of fire

And the fire and the rose are one.

As we pass through the fire, let us hold the image of the rose in our hearts, trusting Julian’s words, trusting in the promise that, ultimately, in mystery beyond our power to imagine, All manner of thing shall be well.