“The soul is like a wild animal, tough, resilient, savvy, self-sufficient and yet exceedingly shy. If we want to see a wild animal, the last thing we should do is to go crashing through the woods, shouting for the creature to come out. But if we are willing to walk quietly into the woods and sit silently for an hour or two at the base of a tree, the creature we are waiting for may well emerge, and out of the corner of an eye we will catch a glimpse of the precious wildness we seek.” 

― Parker J. Palmer, A Hidden Wholeness: The Journey Toward an Undivided Life

Jesus said, “Knock and the door shall be opened. Seek and you shall find.”

This sounds so simple. This sounds so easy. Why does it so often seem so hard?

Parker Palmer suggests that the soul is like a wild animal. The soul is that dimension of each of us that is in communion with our Holy Creator, whether we are in touch with it or not. The soul is that “hidden wholeness” within us, our true selves, deeper than the stories we and others repeat about ourselves. The soul is that place where we each of us shines and we all shine together with the reflection of the image of God.

The soul is like a wild animal. Untamed. Undomesticated. Outside of any cage or leash we could try to use to contain it.

Like a wild animal, the soul is tough and resilient and resourceful. But it is also shy, wary, ready to bolt at any sign of danger.

Have you found this to be true of your soul?

I find this image to be very helpful. It can perhaps be a way to understand why it can seem hard to find the communion with God we may seek. It is also a way to understand how it can be easy when we seek in the right way.

It is important to honor that the soul is an intimate part of ourselves, a vulnerable part of ourselves, and of others, a part of ourselves that when threatened can become fierce and wild and ready to fight.

Part of what can make it so hard in our search for God are the ways that our souls have been hurt or threatened. If someone has been made to believe that their soul is wicked and condemned to hell, that is harmful to the soul, and that soul may well to go into hiding to lick its wounds. It can feel like God is far away.

Or if we ourselves commit some act that violates our integrity, our soul can feel so threatened it goes into the witness protection program.

Or if someone evoking God takes advantage of someone’ trust in spiritual matters, that can be very hurtful to the soul and make it seem like God is far away and hard to find.

But then there are ways that the soul can fight off these threats to avoid being harmed. I know someone who from a young age had such a clear and strong experience of Divine Love that when the Sunday school teacher tried lecturing them about their total depravity and inherent filthiness deserving of God’s wrath, this little girl just matter-of-factly told herself “Well, this lady doesn’t know what she’s talking about.”

Or another example: When I was younger I would often feel my soul bare its teeth when someone aggressively tried to proselytize me. I’d have this deep instinctual reaction of like, “Back off, man! How it is between me and God is none of your business unless earned my trust. I’m not going to open the doors of my soul to your inquisition.” (I guess I do expect the Spanish inquisition).

It’s also funny because yes, as a matter of fact, I have accepted Jesus Christ as my Lord and Savior. But that’s an intimate story, and there’s some subtlety what it all means to me. And I’m not going to tell it to someone I don’t know who suddenly comes up to me wanting to be all up in my business, especially if it’s likely they’re using Jesus as a tool of their self-righteousness or for the thrill of trapping and bagging and tagging souls “for Christ.”  

Now that I feel more secure in my soul’s safety, I handle those situations differently, I’m less reactive by and large. But I say all this to honor the importance of being cautious about to whom we open up about spiritual matters.

The soul is like a wild animal. You have to respect it and give it its space and its time.

For those of you have had soul hurt, please know that the soul knows how to survive. Oh, yes it does. It is tough and scrappy and savvy – it’s a survivor – even if it may feel right now like it is deep in hiding.

If we seek it, we shall find it. It is all about how.

For our soul to emerge, we need to help it to feel safe, and to let it come by on its own terms, in its own time.

We don’t stomp around, beating the bushes, hollering for it.

But rather we learn to be curious and observant and start finding the signs of where the soul likes to be, where it likes to feed or find water or rest or play. And we simply go out to those places and set ourselves down, like sitting under a tree at the edge of a meadow. We let ourselves settle down in that environment where we suspect the soul may feel safe to come by. Smell the breeze. Listen to it play through the leaves. Watch the light change, and the shadows. Just wait.

Whatever happens or doesn’t happen that day, keep coming back.

Then one day we will be out sitting in our spot and we fall into a reverie and forget we are even looking for something or waiting for anything, when, suddenly, like a miracle, there it is.

There it is.

Here. Now.

The truth is, we and that wild creature, our souls and ourselves are not two, but one. And God with whom we commune through the open center of our beings is not anywhere distant, but here and now, among, within, through and beyond, beyond, beyond.

This is always true.

But try to trap it and leash it, and it will elude our grasp.

With that, I’ll fall silent.

(Delivered Sunday, July 30, 2023, at the United Church of Christ at Valley Forge, by Rev. Nathaniel Mahlberg)