Thomas Merton's three epiphanies

Theology Today, Apr 1999 by Commins, Gary

At Polonnaruwa, Merton saw Nothing, nothing but God, nothing but God in all things, all things as no-thing: nothingness and emptiness, and God, divinity, and compassion; the whole earth filled with the glory of God like Moses' tent and Solomon's temple. As each person was a temple of the Holy Spirit, so the whole world was the temple of God. All matter was transfigured. Sparks were always flying. Sometimes someone noticed.

A SPIRALING JOURNEY

Each epiphany left Merton with rippling emotions that did not subside for days. Each had the power to heal-his sin, his separation from others, his semi-blindness. In moments, he had actualized what he had written: every moment of every day in everyone's life contained seeds of contemplation.72 If in Havana, he saw heaven, in Louisville he saw heaven on earth, and at Polonnaruwa heaven in earth. His epiphanies revealed the divinity of Christ, the humanity of Christ, and Christ in whom "all things hold together" (Col 1:15-20, John 1:1-3). These epiphanies punctuated his life and vocation as he entered the church, the monastery, and the priesthood; as he went out to humanity in his politics of the desert; as he engaged other faiths as ecumenist; as he contemplated creation as artist, photographer, monk, and hermit.

Merton often proclaimed the truth of his epiphanies far in advance: His spiritual journey was more a spiral than a linear development. These moments of consciousness confirmed years of spiritual development. He had heard, now he had seen; he had known through faith, now he knew through revelation; he had walked by insight, now sight confirmed his faith.

The biblical witness bears conflicting notions on the relationship of faith and sight. Job's firsthand seeing is superior to secondhand hearing (Job 42:5). But for John of Patmos, clarity comes only when words explain what is seen (Rev 7:13-14). The Gospel of John praises "those who have not seen, and yet have come to believe" (John 20:29), and Paul asserts that "we walk by faith, and not by sight" (2 Cor 5:7). Merton insisted that his epiphanies were gifts unnecessary to faith. He could derive, and had demonstrated, the same knowledge through ordinary faith. Still, this did not diminish the power of his epiphanies, as they assured, challenged, purged, and illumined him. They united him to others, the Other, and all things.

Merton's epiphanies illuminate his immature piety, his discovery of his own-and everyone else's-humanity, and his long latent intuition of the glory of God in all things. Moving him from insight to sight, they gave form, substance, and full maturity to amorphous and undeveloped intuitions. Each epiphany confirmed his beliefs, unveiled the power of his faith, and edged him toward sanctification.

There can be moments of clarity in any and every life, epiphanies when we experience what we already partially apprehend through Scripture and tradition, in human contact, and half-developed reflections. We are surprised and rejoice when-in the eucharist, on the street, in inert matter-we stumble face first into the divinity that we always thought was there. These sparks of divinity have the power to redeem us, awaken us, and make us conscious and whole.