The Still Point of a Believer’s Life
Recurrent themes are opportunities to go deeper and measure change.
Life in general is linear. It starts at birth and ends at death. Along the lines there are bumps and smooth places, deserts and lush forests, times of plenty and times of emptiness. This is our common situation.
Solomon puts it well in a very honest Old Testament book entitled Ecclesiastes. I say it’s honest, because it doesn’t hold back or sugarcoat life.
It’s a deep and important work. Let’s talk about it sometime in the future.
Life with God, however, (and this is a big point in Ecclesiastes) is not linear.
It’s cyclical.
And it doesn’t end with death, it ends with resolution.
It ushers those who trust this God described in the Bible into life beyond death where every tear of sadness is dried, and this only can happen, when everything wrong that we experience here is set right.
Which brings me back to my own starting point in this still point project, talking about T. S. Elliot and the Four Quartets.
These four poems written over many years, and after Elliot became a Christian, cover the same material as Ecclesiastes. They are about Time and Death and what we are to do about them.
As I stated in my very first blog post, Eliot spoke of a “still point of the turning world,” meaning that all of us living on this globe are in motion, but also that there is a center point where no motion exists.
Here is that part of the first poem, Burnt Norton, where he talks about the still point.
At the still point of the turning world. Neither flesh nor fleshless;
Neither from nor towards; at the still point, there the dance is,
But neither arrest nor movement. And do not call it fixity,
Where past and future are gathered. Neither movement from nor towards,
Neither ascent nor decline. Except for the point, the still point,
There would be no dance, and there is only the dance.
T.S. Eliot, Four Quartets, Quartet No. 1: Burnt Norton.
“Neither flesh nor fleshless” Not the result of the actions of man (flesh) or the actions of anything else (luck, Karma, physical laws of the universe, accidents, phases of the moon,…).
“Neither from nor towards” This point exists, but it didn’t get there by any movement into its position. It cannot be described by anything that has anything to do with movement at all.
“at the still point, there the dance is” This is intended to sound odd, I think, in that it is equating stillness with dancing. Eliot likes to keep us guessing as to what he is talking about. This is what life is all about much of the time – trying to figure out where we are without any good reference points.
“But neither arrest nor movement.” This is similar to “Neither from nor towards.”
“And do not call it fixity” This still point is not fixed onto something else. It exists because it exists. You can’t nail it down.
“And do not call it fixity, where past and future are gathered.” It isn’t the summation of time.
“Neither movement from nor towards” This is repeating the same idea for the third time. The still point cannot be described by anything that moves.
“Neither assent nor decline.” He is hammering home the idea that there is no movement up or down, forward, backward, in any direction imaginable and in the process, do you sense, as you read the rhythm of his words, that everything begins to slow? He is rocking us into stillness.
Except for the point, the still point, There would be no dance, and there is only the dance.
Of course, there is so much more here than I can personally see or feel, which means, your sense of things is as good as mine. (So share your thoughts).
Here is what I take from this last line.
There is a place, outside of time, where God is. He is in the center of everything, but do not call it fixity. This is the still point of the turning world. And where we enter into His presence, vast beyond our understanding, but personal, God invites us into His dance, to dance with him
and enjoy him forever.
So many points to ponder......