Recently I have had the pleasure of returning to one of my
favorite books of all time, Annie Dillard’s Pilgrim
at Tinker Creek. This Pulitzer Prize
winning work was initially published in 1974, so it is getting some age on
it. By now it probably can be called a
classic. The first time I read it, I was
captivated. And I experience that every
time I read it. Dillard has an amazing
facility with words to express and elaborate a world of nature she sees so much
more intricately than I ever have seen.
Dillard’s classic is a great example of what I might call,
subtle spirituality. You read her book
and God seldom appears clearly and without obstruction. Rather God dances on the margins of her
narrative about experiencing God. God is
behind the scenes. It seems that God does
not reveal as much as peek and peer into our reading of the text. Dillard teases us with hints of the
Divine. She wants us to read, pause and
reflect. Maybe this is the way the
biggest truths of life really come to us.
In my recent reading of Dillard, I was in the chapter she
entitles, “Spring.” So much of her
writing can seem like some banal description of the stuff in nature. It is easy to get bored or even dismiss her
details as so much stuff about nothing.
I know this tends to be the conclusion of my students. And in the process, they claim she is hard
reading. They are correct! But that is where the fun begins.
We have to learn to read Annie Dillard. We have to learn to slow down and soak it
in. I like that word, soak. It takes time. It requires a kind of lingering over what we
read. If God is going to peek out from
the words we are reading, we cannot go so fast that we will miss the Divine
hints. A trick I have learned over many
readings of this book is to pay close attention to the end of the chapter. There is where Dillard seems to be the most
revelatory. There glimpses of God and of
truth seem to be the easiest.
In that “Spring” chapter, Dillard finishes with a story with
a look at monostyla rotifers! She made
me laugh when she talks about the “tiny career” of these little creatures.
(122-3) She gets more serious when she notes, “These are real creatures with
real organs leading real lives, one by one.
I can’t pretend they’re not there.
If I have life, sense, energy, will, so does a rotifer.” And in this moment she sneaks in the
Divinity.
She talks about the fact that we humans were created and
“set in proud, free motion.” She assumes
the same thing for the rotifer. Then she
asks about the point of it all? For
humans and for rotifers? And boom, comes
a question, which I think is a rhetorical question. She speculates on the purpose of humans and
rotifers: Ad majorem Dei gloriam? Luckily, I know Latin: “to the greater glory
of God?” is how this phrase translates.
Interestingly, she chooses to put this phrase in Latin and
to italicize it. I can guess that to
many of our ears (Catholic ears used to hearing much of Mass in Latin) this
signifies holy language---the language of the Church. I suggest this is a rhetorical question
because I think she wants us to say, “Of course, we are created to the greater
glory of God.” “And so are
rotifers!” I am ok with that reason for
my being. It certainly is something to
live up to. It is a mighty calling in
life. Sadly, it is too easy to aim much
lower and squander life.
Dillard is not done with us yet. She says, “If I did not know about the
rotifers and paramecia, and all the bloom of plankton clogging the dying pond,
fine; but since I’ve seen it I must somehow deal with it, take it into
account. ‘Never lose a holy curiosity,’
Einstein said…” (123) I love that short
phrase: never lose holy curiosity.
Normally, our culture simply talks about “curiosity.” I hear this language among innovators and
entrepreneurs and, certainly, among scientists in their quest for truth. But “holy” curiosity? Holy curiosity is my willingness to join Dillard
and Einstein in chasing down new things and new truths.
It is more. It is my
willingness to be available in those times and places where God may choose to
peek out from the normal. It is to be
available when and where God may move from the margins of my world straight
into the middle of my awareness so that I may see and claim the truth that I,
too, am here ad majorem Dei gloriam---to
the greater glory of God.
If I can come to be clear that I am living my life to that
end, I would be humbled and glorified in the same breath. I hope it’s true. I want to live into that truth. And I am grateful for the holy curiosity that
propels me to be in quest of that truth for my life.
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