Religious experience

It has been said that all religion is based upon the human experience of the “beyond and the beckoning,” and religion’s “coin” is ecstasy.

The human experience of the “beyond and the beckoning” -- what in the world is that? That’s the experience of “the edges of our human existence” that seems to point beyond to Another Shore. Or that’s the experience of mystery in our lives, i.e. that dimension in our lives that says to us, “There’s more here than meets the eyes.” The experience of the “beyond and the beckoning” is sometimes called the experience of transcendence or simply religious experience. The whole human race has such experience, and that’s why religion is so universal and also so difficult to stamp out.

The experience of the beyond, the experience of mystery or transcendence, might be wrapped up in some spectacular event, like a magnificent sunrise or a panoramic view of the Grand Canyon or the birth of one’s child. Or it could be wrapped up in some unspectacular event <<(privileged and endowed with aura)>>, e.g. like an encounter with an incredibly unselfish and heroic human being. In such events, spectacular or not, a curtain is drawn back for a brief moment, and we are given, as it were, a peek through to the Other Side and a glimpse of glory. With the glimpse of glory comes the “coin of ecstasy;” we cry out, "Oh how good it is for us to be here!"

"Ecstasy" is a rich word which needs some rehabilitation in our drug-addicted society. "Ec" means "outside" and "stasy" means "to stand." In ecstasy we stand outside ourselves. In ecstasy we are beside ourselves. To use the vernacular of our drug-addicted society, when we peek through to Other Side and catch a glimpse of glory, we experience a "high."

Mt Tabor

There are many mountain experiences in the life of Jesus, and also in our own lives. There is the Mount of Temptation with its allurement of cheap glitter and instant gratification. The devil tempts Jesus saying, "Fall on your knees and adore me, and I will give you all the kingdoms of the earth." (Mt 4: 1-11). Toward the end of his life, there are the Mount of Olives where he sweats blood, and the Mount of Calvary where he becomes "a worm and no man" (Ps 21:7; Lk 22:39-44). Mounts of Disfiguration they are.

Finally there is the Mount of Transfiguration, called Tabor in Christian tradition. On that mountain a religious experience is taking place. There, a spectacular event is happening: the face of Jesus becomes "as dazzling as the sun and his clothes as radiant as light" and "whiter than any bleacher could make them" (Mt 17:2; Mk 9:3). There, up on those heights, the apostles Peter, James, and John are hearing heavenly voices. On Tabor, with that spectacular event, there is ecstasy. Peter is emoting as he cries out, "Oh how good it is to be here!" So good that he wants to stay up there on the heights, and linger on in the glow of glory. In fact, he even wants to dig in for good and hunker down. “Let’s build three shelters up here, one for you, one for Moses, and one for Elijah (Mk 9:5). Not only is Mt. Tabor high, but Apostles also are high with ecstasy.

Sabbath Rest

“Oh, how good it is for us to be here on this mount!” “Oh how good it is for us to be here, in the Sunday Assembly at Old St. Mary’s !” Whether we are aware of it or not, this is true: we come to Sunday Mass for Sabbath Rest. For rest from what? This might sound strange at first but it is true, we come weekly for rest from the non-mystery and the non-ecstasy (the ho-hum) of human life, which constantly beat all week long against our human spirit, and tears us down with its relentless chant: "What you see is all there is, is all there is, is all there is."

We come to the Sunday Assembly where the eucharistic Bread raised on high announces to us the good news, “There's more here than meets the eye. There’s more here than meets the eye. “ A different chant, indeed! We come to Sunday Mass, as to Mt. Tabor, to feed upon mystery and ecstasy, and to set our hearts singing and emoting, “Oh how good it is for us to be here.” And though we can’t dig in and stay here forever (we’ve got to go to work tomorrow ) we are set on coming back next week for more

Expectation

We must come to the Sunday assembly with expectation. True, we are disappointed when our expectation is not met, but let me tell you, there is one thing worse than that: to come expecting nothing, to receive nothing, and not to be disappointed!

Karl Jung, the father of modern psychology, powerfully describes an event in his life filled with non-mystery and non-ecstasy. That is to say, filled with nothing. Because of what had been told him, he waited anxiously for the day of his first Holy Communion. It finally dawned. In familiar robes, his father, the minister of the celebration, stood behind the altar, reading the prayers. On the white altar cloth lay large trays filled with small pieces of bread which came from the local baker (whose goods were nothing to brag about). He watched his father eat a piece of the bread and then sip the wine which came from the local tavern (not famous for good wines). His father then passed the cup to one of the old men. “All were stiff, solemn, and it seemed to me, uninterested,” he writes. “I looked on in suspense, but could not see or guess whether anything unusual was going on inside the old men… I saw no sadness and no joy.” Then came Jung’s turn to eat the bread which, he says, tasted flat, and to sip the wine which tasted sour.

After the final prayer, no one was heard to cry out, "Oh how good it is for us to be here!" No one was seen to tarry or linger on in some glow of glory. Instead, Jung writes, "All poured out of the church with faces that were neither depressed nor illumined with joy but which seemed to say, `Well, that's that.'" Only gradually in the course of the following days did it dawn on him that nothing had happened; that what he had seen was all there was. No mystery and no ecstasy all week long, and even on the very Sunday of his first Holy Communion! Jung found himself saying, "Oh how bad it was for me to be there! I must never go back again." And he didn't. His first Communion was deadly; it was his very last! (Memories, Dreams, Reflections)

We should come weekly with expectation. There is only one thing worse than expectation not met: it is to expecting nothing, receive nothing, and not be disappointed! Only one thing worse: faces that are neither depressed nor illumined with joy.

Conclusion

We always think that Sunday mass is for God; no it is for us. God doesn’t need it but we do. We need it to be replenished and refreshed by Sabbath Rest, so that when the sun sets again on our Sunday, we will be ready Monday morning to take on another week-long bout with non-Mystery and non- ecstasy. For Tabor is not a mountain for itself; there's no digging in and staying up there. Jesus says to Peter, "We're getting off this mountain, and we're descending into the valley of real life." The high of Mount Tabor is for the low of Mount Calvary that lies ahead. The high of Sunday is for all the lows of Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday, when exhausted we cry out in relief “TGIF.”

And whatever those lows that lie ahead might be, after Tabor we know for sure that everything is going to be all right. Speaking of Mt. Olive and Mt. Calvary that lay ahead for him, towards the end of his life Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. said, "I don't know what's going to happen to me and it really doesn't matter. I'm not old, and like any man I'd like to live a long life, but I'm not concerned about that anymore. I just want to do God's will now. For you see, I've been to the top of the mountain, and God has allowed me to peek through to the other side. And now, with that glimpse of glory, no matter what, I know for sure that everything is going to be all right.”