
Martin L. Smith tells a captivating story about searching for a centuries old spring. The spring was once known as a holy spring. In the Middle Ages, pilgrims once searched for this spring but all trace of it was lost. The expedition was a failure.
So Smith went out to find it. After hours of probing around he wondered if the cows in the field that we standing in the stinking mud patch might be guarding this special secret. He was right. There he found a carved platform with a wooden pipe. Pure, clean water flowed from it in a steady stream.
"We are reminded here that the home of the Spirit is not found in the intellect, the realm of concepts or ideas, not in a refined interior sanctum of spirituality, but in the 'guts', the deep core where our passions have their spring, the place of conflict, confusion, vulnerability, and desire."
The pilgrims had not found the spring because they hurried past the stinking mud patch and swarming flies. How often do we, on occasion or with our entire lives, pass over the place of the Spirit's indwelling? Are we looking in vain in only the cleaner world of spiritual thought and piety?
The following parable tells us all we need to know. It is about a man who was seen searching for something at night under a street light. "Did you lose something here?" he is asked. "No, over there," he replies, pointing to a dark corner some distance away, "but this is where the light is good."
This is the story of the spiritual quest of so many of us.
The Spirit is found in the core of our own humanity. I find comfort in this. The Spirit is a mysterious wind but we need not get fixed with only this image. The Spirit flows in our heart, the guts of who we are, and it flows there continuously. It just needs to be uncovered.
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