Letter #170: The Habit of the Supernatural

You've Got to Believe it to See It

2.0

Your last email was a genuine delight. Deep, rich and original. On top of which, it links to something I’ve been wrestling with of late.

I believe the habit of sacramental rites is meant to train the mind to mystic meaning, to teach us day by slow day to experience the presence of God in everything. And yet I wonder: can we have that holy experience continually, or can the supernatural only be encountered now and then? As C.S. Lewis said, “You cannot study Pleasure in the moment of the nuptial embrace, nor repentance while repenting, nor analyze the nature of humour while roaring with laughter. But when else can you really know these things?” So then, can we know the sacred depths of life while actually living?

Joseph Heinrich, a Harvard anthropologist, coined the term WEIRD to describe people who are Western, Educated, Industrialized, Rich and Democratic. The purpose of the acronym is to point out that the Western mindset is anomalous. Through much of history and even in most cultures today, people experience things most Westerners do not. Demons, godlings, angels, curses and miracles, and so on. Have we “progressed” beyond these “superstitions” or have we traded depth of vision for the technological fruits of materialist scientism? IPhones in exchange for true awareness.

A year or so ago, while struggling with a professional problem that had spiritual ramifications, I became ill. I was busy and had no time to rest so my illness grew worse and worse until I seriously believed I would have to be hospitalized. Then one night, I went to bed and had a dream. I saw a weak, disgusting blob fighting against a snake that had invaded my house. I woke up, and my illness was gone.

Never in my life had I believed that a dream was prophetic, but I knew this one was. It was not generated by my mind but sent from without. It was a message, telling me that I was trying to fight a demon on my own rather than trusting to God. It was the source of my disease.

Immediately, though, I began to come up with “reasonable explanations,” for what had happened. Hadn’t I taken an antibiotic before bed? Wasn’t it that that broke the fever? I find such explanations often make sense without describing what has actually happened.

I’m not a materialist in any way. I believe in God. I believe in spiritual forces for good and for evil. I believe in the presence of the blessed dead. And yet, like the father in the Gospel, I believe but need help with my unbelief. Because emotionally, culturally, practically, I cannot bring myself to quite believe what I believe.

I wonder: is the supernatural one of those things that we can only know in rare moments? Or are we simply burdened by a habit of mind that makes us blind to what is always there?

Asking for a friend,

Dad