"Whoever fights monsters should see to it that in the process he does not become a monster. And if,” continues Nietzsche, "you gaze long enough into an abyss, the abyss will gaze back into you."
Over this past year, I sometimes worry that the Abbey has become an exercise of staring into the abyss. There has been a lot of dark subject matter —metaphorical monsters, if you will —covered over these past weeks and months, from the negative impact of AI and social media to political division and the rise of Christian nationalism. It's all been a lot of end-of-the-world kind of stuff.
It has never been my intention to bring more distress into the lives of those who come into this place. I had always hoped this service could be a reprieve from a lot of that. Much of the writing I've done this past year has been difficult; I’ve been spending too much time in a negative information space.
I kept telling myself the next week I would move on to more hopeful things, but with each passing day, it became increasingly difficult to shake off the feelings of dread that our current times seem so adept at nurturing. It is then difficult not to have those feelings be reflected in our time here. Sometimes it seems I'm not only gazing into the abyss, but the abyss is beginning to gaze back at me … and also into this service.
With this in mind, I keep asking myself, is it time to step out of the metaphorical darkness and into the light? To leave behind talking about the problems that plague the world, and shift our gaze to things that bring simple joy and easy peace for those who come. But I don't believe that is the solution either. That line between blissful ignorance and wallowing in despair is not a thin one. There is a world of meaning in between those two poles.
As I reflected on this, it has been helpful to differentiate between a philosophical concept of darkness and Nietzsche's use of the word abyss, as they are not interchangeable terms.
Darkness is not evil or antithetical to good. It's easy to forget that everything that exists in the light is also present in the dark. While many things are more difficult to see, it does not mean they are not there. And in fact, there is a lot of beauty that cannot be seen in the light. This sanctuary is a perfect example.
The abyss, on the other hand, marks an absence of what exists in the light. It can be best described as a deep void of nothingness. When staring into the abyss, what stares back at you is not hidden meaning or a hard-to-find hope but a nihilistic emptiness.
The book of Ecclesiastes captures this in its opening chapter:
“Meaningless! Meaningless!”
says the Teacher.
“Utterly meaningless!
Everything is meaningless.”
Or the more recognizable translation:
“Vanity of vanities,”
says the Preacher.
“Vanity of vanities!
All is vanity.”
This is a place where none of us wants to find ourselves! But Feeling overwhelmed by darkness is not the same as gazing too long into the abyss. Sometimes I do feel overwhelmed by everything that is happening in the world. This service is often a tangible expression of that feeling, and sometimes it can be hard to differentiate between the two.
The last song we listened to in our Easter service, “O Hope”, was written by Joshua Luke Smith, who also wrote the blessing poem we heard earlier tonight. He captures the idea of coming close to the abyss, but not yet being there.
I saw a light burning dimly in the distance
But it meant the darkness had not overcome
And I heard a voice, oh so quiet I could hardly even hear
But that whisper meant that I was not alone
And I didn't feel so far from home
How much easier life would be if there could be one big bright light leading us out of this darkness, or at least a clear message from above that would make sense of it all. So many are waiting for a saviour, a life-changing revelation, a personal transformation to banish the darkness forever.
But life is rarely easy, and the dawn can seem to never come.
In truth, I don't mind the darkness. The deepest meaning, the most profound moments, so often happen in the dark. I've always believed that inspired voices speak most emphatically in troubled times, and the messages of hope resonate loudest against the backdrop of despair.
People spend so much time and energy trying to escape the darkness, believing that they'll find happiness and beauty on the other side, that they miss one of life’s fundamental truths. You don't have to leave the dark to see beauty and to experience joy, you just have to linger long enough for your eyes to adjust, and your heart to calm.
Flecks of light begin to appear and become brighter! It is in moments such as this that we meet the bearers of these lights, reflectors of divine love and grace present in the darkness. They are the poets and composers, the writers and huggers, the quiet listeners and the healers. It is in these moments that their creativity is life-inspiring, their small acts of kindness are life-saving, their grace becomes life-changing, and their hope becomes the life-giving force we so desperately need.
As we adjust to the darkness, we not only see constellations of small lights, but we start noticing the places where the light doesn’t penetrate. I don't believe God is calling us out of the darkness and into the light. Most days, I like to think the divine call is to go deeper into the darkness and to light it up. A call to expose the beauty goodness all around us. In doing so, we are there not to protect other from the dark, but protect those in danger of falling into the abyss.
Closing
Last winter, I had to drive to Charlottetown to pick up a new flute for my daughter and then drive from Charlottetown to Mount Allison to deliver that flute. The trip was about two and a half hours long. I had been listening to several different podcasts the morning I left. Some were related to the work I had been doing for the AI series here, others were political and current event stuff. By the time I arrive at Mount A, I must have consumed close to 5 hours' worth of media that day.
As I got in the car to go home I felt like a zombie. So, instead of listening to yet another podcast, I decided to put on my own music playlist, something I hadn’t done in months. I remember as the music played it was like having my soul awaken up from a restless sleep.
Music has played such an essential role in this service. It is possible that some of you would not have stuck with us this past year here without the counter-balance that these songs provide.
I read a Facebook quote the other day that said this”
“If you want to believe that the world is terrible, watch the news. If you want to believe that the world is incredible, spend time in nature.”
I'd add one more, if you want to believe that humanity is beautiful, listen to music!
Interesting!
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