Dwelling Within the Sacred

My piece on The Interfaith Observer blog

Dwelling Within the Sacred

by Sam Allen

Only silence remains. Because I have to listen to him - I have to listen to the silence. I have to experience him.

                              - Interviewee in “I Like the Way You Dream,” from 1 Giant Leap

There are some things that are sacred in every person’s life. Agnostic or Apostolic, we all maintain and create containers in which each of us dives deep or soars beyond reach. No matter what our beliefs, as human beings part of each one of us protects and holds space for things that we simply could not live well without. And, in my language, that is part of you. And the things you protect from within ? That is the sacred.

Music is one of those sacred things for me.

Ever since I was a college freshman, I’d stream songs while I worked, I played, I talked, and I ate – almost every part of my day touched music in some way. It began with muffled computer speakers and now it’s usually from the soundbar on my living room TV. Some would call this background music, but to me, the soundscapes that have exposed themselves have been essential for my well-being and growth, for my musical wanderings mirror, my theological journeys.

When I was enamored with Sufism, I’d stream “Beat the Retreat” by Richard Thompson, a song so indelibly touched by Sufi thought that I recognized it immediately. I’ll follow the drum …. (two silent beats, Richard slapping the guitar) …. back home to you…. fits right into the canon of the Fools of God. I’d play Richard’s drone, the hollow of his guitar, and fall into a trance as I rode BART, the San Francisco Bay Area’s rapid transit line, back home to You. What You I wasn’t sure, but I certainly felt it.

Later, when Hinduism touched my heart, I found Ashla Bhosle singing along with Michael Stipe in “I Love the Way You Dream.” It grounded me as I wandered through the southern rim of Golden Gate Park, pondering the origins of the words guru and pandit. Sometimes I’d venture into silly realms. I mused on the relationship between pandit and pan dicho – no particular relationship between mentors and the sweet pink and white breakfast breads in the glass cases of my hometown’s Latin supermercados per se, except that they both feed you, albeit in different ways.

These days, I have come home to the Christianity of my youth and each morning listen to Christian and secular music. These songs ground me for the day and offer me the chance to reaffirm how well Christianity fits in with my current worldview. We should love others as Jesus has loved us, wanderers can come home, and there’s an overwhelming never-ending, reckless love of God for all of us.

If I’m being honest, I’ll confess that I dabble in a bit of ancestor worship with that last part: my Dad showed an overwhelming commitment to our relationship as he was dying earlier this year, and it touched me in a deeply spiritual way. I remember Dad by listening to Michael W. Smith sing of God the Father’s love because, in an intuitive way, my biological father is heavenly now too.