Stipes and Patibulum

          A few mornings ago, upon waking, our conversation addressed sorrow, pain and the loss of energy and, hence, usefulness. For her, this grew into an expression of appreciation for the beauty of God and the God of beauty. She suggested even when she is experiencing these, they can be transformed into an expression of that beauty if she responds to them as such. This led to her reflecting further upon the stipes and patibulum, the vertical and horizontal arms of a cross. The horizontal arms, she said, represented humanity it all it's striving and complexity, the vertical arm spirituality, both God and despair as it reached to heaven and is planted in the earth. When I placed the mythological Jesus, both man and God, on that cross, she agreed that it fit perfectly, this joining of man and God. She spoke of Ibn Arabi and his mysticism wherein beauty, the manifestation of God, is all around us and in everyone around us, and that we were made to love this beauty, that God created it in order to share himself. She quoted the Hadith "I was a hidden treasure, and I longed to be known, so I created the universes that I might be known." I mentioned the Westminister Shorter Catechism and it's famous question/answer: Q. What is the chief end of man? A. Man's chief end is to glorify God, and to enjoy him forever.

Both of these quotes fail to mention love per se, though Islamic teaching often equates knowledge with love; Christianity, too. Even so, did God create the universes to be loved or to express his love? That he created them in order to be loved would suggest a need or a lack in God, which is contrary to the theology of both Islam and Christianity. But not mine. This is where theology and religion break down for me: in trying to be ever more specific, to specify the unspecifiable, or categorize the uncategorizable. Even mystics, who are supposed to understand this truth better than most, cannot always resist the temptation to understand rather than simply enjoy. Christian and Islamic mysticism have much more in common with one another than they to with orthodox Christianity or Islam. The mystics of both (and other) traditions are drinking at the same fount, not attempting to fill vessels with contaminated downstream water; and the farther downstream we get, the closer we come to fundamentalism. Those drinking close to the fountain, of whatever tradition, are closer to one another than those drinking downstream, in whatever direction.

In any event, I am the stipes and she the patibulum. I have encompassed more of ordinary American human experience, she more of both God and suffering. Her love of God is natural, mine acquired in desperation, at the crossing, the place we met.