You might say we were engaged in a sort of ‘interfaith’ conversation whereby I was questioning my friend’s decision to embark on the path of Christianity. When I had first met her, a year after graduating from high school, she was a declared denier of Anglicanism–the church of her parents–not to mention all other forms of religion. Eventually, curiosity drew her to re-examine religion, and she subsequently found a place for herself in the United Church. I, however, still had not found a structure to house my robust ‘metaphysical’ inclinations, and continued to assume that what I believed simply could not satisfy or be satisfied by the principles of any organized religion.
The outlook I adopted back then is what appears to characterize many of my twenty/thirty-something peers today: a perception that something transcends the dominant scattered worldly narratives in which we find ourselves (at times haplessly) planted, yet which cannot be adequately explored or expressed through a single established way.
I was reminded of all this the other day after participating in a visualization exercise with a group of friends and colleagues. One of the objectives of the exercise was to help us get in touch with our individual views and feelings around how our group–a community-building solidarity cooperative called Le Milieu–could grow towards greater sustainability. During the visualization, one image that insistently presented itself to me was the fibonacci spiral. The fibonacci numeric sequence that underlies the spiral is rather remarkable in its omnipresence; it is one of the basic building blocks of our visible world.
Later, when I searched online to see what correlations may have been made between this sequence and the belief in/concept of God, I was hardly surprised to find many posts referring to it as ‘God’s fingerprint’. What an arresting image! Nautilus shells, sunflower heads, pine cones, dragonfly wings, Greco-Roman statues, even the ears on our heads: we are irresistibly drawn to and reflected in this subtle yet pervasive ‘fingerprint’.
So despite our fragmentation, a thread, almost imperceptibly, weaves itself through us all. As one online author writes: its beauty is “God’s love song, intended to woo us to Him.” All those years ago, seeking to crack the code of my friend’s decisive faith commitment, I heard that subtle and nearly imperceptible voice ask me to look at the shape of my own faith just as it was–unbutressed by church walls, uninformed by scriptures, unglorified by altar sacrifice–and validate it as worthy alongside all others.