The Ecology of Holiness
By Andrea Lingle
"The notion of 'spiritual perfection' is appropriate rather to a philosopher who, by the knowledge and practice of esoteric disciplines, unconcerned with the needs and desires of other men, has arrived at a state of tranquility where passions no longer trouble his pure soul.
This is not the Christian idea of holiness."
Merton, Life and Holiness, p. 20-21
Have you ever wondered if bees, butterflies, flies, and the like know they are pollinators? They move from apple blossom to tulip, from forsythia to cherry seeking sustenance for their hive. They do not worry, I assume, about the integral part they play in human food systems.
This does not change our dependence on them.
Pollinators gather pollen as a matter of their own need or accidentally while availing themselves of the flower's nectar, but, in so doing, fulfill a vital function for the plant. These pollinators provide locomotion for rooted plants allowing genetic diversity and strength for the plants. The plants, in turn, do not use the nectar they produce. Their veins flow with milk and honey that delight the flitting butterfly and the wispy-haired toddler, not to feed themselves, but to lure the pollinators in. The butterfly would starve without the need of the plant. The plant would be rendered sterile without the hunger of the butterfly. But the generosity of the relationship is not tailored to economy. There is an voluptuousness to the scale of nature's relationship. The amount of pollen the plants require for reproduction is so drastically below the amount produced that the pollen serves to feed generations of bees as well as produce generations of apples.
What does it mean to be holy?
What does it mean to love your neighbor?
What does it mean to incarnate God in the world?
In the world of the apple and the bee, there is but one answer: to be part of the messy, abundant, generous whole. That is why Merton, a man who’s Trappist spiritual discipline gifted him with silence, does not consider holiness to be synonymous with tranquility. To be holy is to live caught up in grace—that throbbing, unbalanced, pressure roiling off the wingbeat of the Spirit. To be holy is not to be inert, but to be becoming ever more permeable.
Merton boldly claims that the Christian idea of holiness is not tranquil. Holiness is not found in the perfectly arranged altar or the gothic capstone. Those things are but a finger pointing. Those are the echoes of the sublime. Holiness can never be placid because we are created by interconnectedness. We are made by and in the pattern of Divine relationship.
“The world that we know, that relates to us, that interests us, what we call ‘reality,’ is the vast web of interacting entities, of which we are a part, that manifest themselves by interacting with each other.” Carlo Rovelli
If we truly believe that we are all one, and it looks very much like we are, then it follows that perfection cannot be tranquil (or achieved) alone. The whole must move toward perfection. This does not mean that everyone needs to be identical or tidy. It does not mean that everyone needs to agree. It simply means that Christian Perfection is a movement, not of individuals, but of the biome of reality. All of it. The whole thing. Moving toward love.
What does that look like? It means becoming attentive to love, and, through that attentiveness, permeable. It means becoming a soaker-hose for love. Not stomping about flooding the world with our thoughts and opinions, but being so saturated in Divine Love that everywhere we go, love puddles up around us.
Like the roving bee and the generous apple blossom, we will not know what graciousness we will invoke through our willingness to become part of the holy, for the apple is just as glorious as the blossom, even if the two can never meet.
If you feel inclined, comment with one word or one sentence that answers: What are you a part of?